Because he’d never really been there.

What did I just do? How could I do such a thing? What is the matter with me?

Pulling myself up from the sheets, I headed to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I stepped inside with my bra and panties still on, and I fell to the ground as the water washed over me. I begged the water droplets to drag my guilt down the drain, to make the disappointment I’d been feeling leave my body. But it didn’t.

The shower rained over me, mixing with my own tears, and I stayed there until the water ran cold. I shivered in the tub and closed my eyes.

I’d never felt so alone.

Chapter Thirteen

Elizabeth

Despite Tanner’s protests, I chose to keep having Tristan come to care for the lawn. Every Saturday he would come over, cut the grass, and head into town to work with Mr. Henson. Sometimes he worked in the mornings, other times, late into the night. We hadn’t spoken since my drunken night, but I thought that was all right. Emma always played with Zeus in the front yard as I sat on the porch, reading a romance novel. Even when your heart was hurting, there was something so hopeful about reading a book filled with love. The pages were somewhat of a reminder that maybe one day I would be okay again. Maybe one day I would be all right.

Each week, I tried to give Tristan money, but he declined it. Each week, I invited him to stay for a meal, and each week he said no.

One Saturday, he arrived right as Emma was in the middle of an emotional breakdown, and he stood at a distance, trying his best not to interrupt.

“No! Mama, we have to go back! Daddy doesn’t know where we are!” Emma cried.

“I’m sure he does, baby. I think we just have to wait a little while. Give Daddy time.”

“No! He never takes this long! There’s no feathers! We have to go back!” she hollered as I tried to pull her into a hug, but she yanked away from me and hurried into the house.

I sighed, and when I looked up at Tristan, I saw his scowl. I shrugged my shoulders. “Kids.” I smiled. He kept his grimacing look.

He turned to walk back toward his house.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m not going to sit out here and listen to your damn kid whine all morning.”

Mean Tristan was back in full force. “God. Sometimes I start to make believe that you’re a decent person, but then you just go ahead and remind me of how much of a jerk you are.”

He didn’t reply, but disappeared once more into his darkened home.

“Mama!” The next morning I was awakened to a hyper Emma bouncing up and down on my bed. “Mama! It’s Daddy! He came!” she screamed, pulling me up to a sitting position.

“What?” I muttered, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Emma, we sleep in on Sundays, remember?”

“But, Mama! He showed up!” she exclaimed.

I sat up straighter when I heard a lawnmower outside. Tossing on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, I followed my excited girl to the front of the house. When we stepped outside, a small gasp left my lips as I stared at the porch, which was covered with white feathers.

“See, Mama! He found us!”

My hands covered my mouth as I stared at the white feathers that were starting to float around the space from the bursts of wind.

“Don’t cry, Mama. Daddy’s here. You said he would find us and he did,” Emma explained.

I smiled. “Of course, honey. Mama’s just happy, that’s all.”

Emma started picking up the feathers and smiled. “Picture?” she asked. I hurried inside to get Steven’s old Polaroid camera to take the usual picture of Emma holding the feather for her ‘Daddy and Me’ box. When I came back, Emma was sitting on the porch with her bright smile and dozens of feathers surrounding her.

“Okay, say cheese!”

“Cheeeeeseeee!” she screamed.

The picture printed out, and Emma ran inside to add it to her collection.

My eyes looked out at Tristan, who was cutting the grass as if he had no clue what was happening. Walking over to him, I shut off the lawnmower. “Thank you,” I said.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Tristan…thank you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Can you just let me be?”

He went to turn it back on, but I placed my hand over his. His hands were warm—rough, but warm. “Thank you.”

When our eyes locked, I felt his touch grow even warmer. He smiled a true smile. A smile I hadn’t known his lips were capable of creating. “It’s no big deal. I found the freakin’ feathers in Mr. Henson’s shop. It didn’t take much work.” He paused. “She’s good,” he said, gesturing toward the house, speaking of Emma. “She’s a good kid. Annoying as all get out, but she’s good.”

“Stay for breakfast?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“Stop by for lunch.”

He declined.

“Dinner?”

He bit his bottom lip. He glanced down at the ground, debating my request. When our eyes met again, I almost fell over from the single word he spoke. “Okay.”

The neighbors all gossiped about what it meant, me having Tristan work on my lawn, but I was slowly starting to care less and less what others thought of me.

I sat on the porch, surrounded by the feathers as he finished the lawn work. Emma played fetch with Zeus.

And every now and then, Tristan remembered how to smile.