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“No. They've both closed that chapter and are just moving forward. They're actually doing really well just being friends. It's kind of admirable given the circumstances.”
“Do you know why they broke up?” I knew I sounded like a gossip, but all of a sudden I needed to know everything.
“They just realized they were unhappy and not bringing out the best in each other. They wanted to move on before any bad feelings of resentment set in. This way, they can both find partners who are a better fit, but still keep their family somewhat intact, even if it looks a little different from what they had originally hoped. It's life. Sometimes it sucks and you just have to make the best of it and move on.”
Wow. It all sounded so…mature.
“Well, that still sounds like it must have been a really tough time,” I said, feeling sympathy for everyone involved. As mature as it was, I’m sure it was still painful.
“I’m sure spending the summer here will help,” Mason said.
We ate in silence for a few moments. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Tristan was looking at me earlier today. He was so attentive, and it made me wonder if maybe, just maybe, he wanted me the same way I wanted him.
“Tell me something,” Mason said suddenly, dragging me out of my thoughts. “Do you still like Tristan?”
I could only describe the smile on his face as mischievous. But I was reeling from the shock of the question, and my heart instantly started racing. Was I that obvious way back then?
“What do you mean? Do I still like Tristan?” I said. There was no way I could admit to my feelings right now. I wouldn’t hear the end of it from Mason. I also didn’t know how any relationship between me and Tristan would affect the relationship between Mason and Tristan. I hadn’t thought about it until this very moment.
So, no, there was no way I was having this conversation with my brother tonight.
“C’mon, you know what I mean,” he said, rolling his eyes so hard I was worried for him they’d get stuck. “Everyone knew you had a crush on Tristan.”
Mason had the nerve to chuckle as I sat, trying to remember every moment of my early teen years.
“Who’s everyone?” I asked, suddenly embarrassed.
“Well, Tristan, for one.” I internally groaned. “Me, Mom, Tristan’s parents, William, Grace, the high school principal–what was his name again? Oh, and old Mrs. Shaw from down the street, remember her? She always said you were so cute and wouldn't it be nice if something worked out between the two of you someday? Let's see…the cafeteria lady at school, the librarian… Should I continue?” He looked at me with a raised eyebrow and his eyes danced with the laughter he was holding back. I’m sure my face betrayed how mortifying this conversation felt.
I cleared my throat and tried to gather my dignity.
“I was what, thirteen or fourteen when he left? It’s possible I may have had a small crush on him, but it was just silly teenage stuff,” I valiantly defended myself. But I could feel my cheeks warming with a blush. I felt so stupid, especially when Mason broke out into uncontrollable laughter.
“Look, I’m a little embarrassed about all of this,” I pleaded with Mason as he rested his head on the counter, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
I opened my mouth to continue my defense, but decided there was no point. So I sipped my wine instead because, unfortunately, Mason wasn’t wrong. And I may have told myself a long time ago that I was over Tristan, but today showed me that I most certainly was not over him.
Not even a little bit.
Tristan
I loved these lazy days of sleeping in–which was unfortunately never very late for me–and waking up to a slower-paced day. The early morning coffee on the porch, while I watched the sunrise. The sunsets with Shiloh and my grandparents. Shiloh was obsessed with chasing fireflies and it gave all of us some child-like wonder.
This was the break I had been needing for a very long time. Summers typically just slipped away from me with most of my time spent working.
Shiloh and I both needed to slow down. Since I worked a lot, her schedule was also filled with activities. Regina and I had shared custody, but she had her own busy medical career and practice. Most of the time I had the driver and Shiloh's nanny take her where she needed to be.
We had made some time on the weekends to spend together as a family, but it hadn’t been enough. Our careers pulled us in different directions and our marriage suffered because of it. The divorce had been a difficult time, but we were finally in a good place and back on track. Family therapy had helped us get to a place where we could be friends, but most importantly, we could co-parent successfully.
Regina had been surprisingly supportive of me and Shiloh visiting Kentucky for the summer. She knew the bond I had with my grandparents and understood my wanting to be here with my grandmother’s worsening osteoporosis. Regina knew that with my expertise and success as an orthopedic surgeon, I could likely help my grandmother. She also knew that I needed time with Shiloh with the increasing demands of my franchise corporation. I had to smile that we did indeed seem to be friends now.
Iwasworried about my grandmother, but I couldn’t get Arya out of my head. She had dominated a good portion of my brain cells since I met her in the kitchen. I spent the previous night out with Mason, trying desperately not to bring Arya up. I really wasn’t ready to have that conversation with him.
But here with my grandmother, I thought maybe I could get some more information about Arya and what she had been up to here.
“I couldn’t believe how much Arya had grown when I saw her. I think she was around 14 when I left town.” I said to my grandmother as she sat on the back porch while I watered her small garden. The late morning sun was starting to feel warm, and the cicadas were buzzing with a warning of a hot and steamy afternoon ahead. Satisfied with the watering, I shut off the hose and sat down in the chair next to my grandmother.
What I really had meant to say was, how the hell had Arya become such a gorgeous woman? But I didn’t think my grandmother needed to hear that.
