Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

EMILY

A couple of days later, Ethan and I met Tristan and Nazarene for breakfast at Sparky's.

After we were seated, Tristan crossed his tattooed arms and aimed some questions at my boyfriend. "So, Ethan, what do you do for a living?"

"I work for my father's construction company, Mills Construction here in town."

"Nice. Family business. Will you take it over someday?"

Ethan played with the wrapper to his straw. "That's the plan." He nudged me with his elbow. "I'm trying to get this one here to work for us, but she doesn't want any handouts."

"Well, I can't blame her for wanting to be her own person. She probably wants to use her degree for something she's, you know, interested in."

"I just meant in the meantime. Instead of waiting tables," Ethan clarified.

"There's nothing wrong with waiting tables," Tristan challenged. "As long as she's happy doing that. It's her choice."

You could cut the tension with a knife. Ethan had never had to endure being questioned by my mother. She wasn't the type to intimidate or interrogate. This inquisition seemed like the closest thing to that, and, yes, the irony of Tristan being the daddy figure was not lost on me.

A server came by and set down a carafe of fresh coffee. By some miracle no one had come to bother Tristan for an autograph, but that was probably because he was wearing sunglasses.

You know the awkwardness between Tristan and Ethan had to be bad if I intentionally struck up a conversation with Nazarene. "So…how did you end up working for the band?" I asked.

"Well, I'd worked for them once before. And when Veronica left before the European tour, they called me back since I'm based in France and already had the experience."

So this was Tristan's second go-round with her…

"You live in France full time?" I asked.

"I divide my time between New York and Paris. But I will probably be moving out to L.A. when Tristan's stay in Shady Hills is over."

My stomach tightened. Of course. "I see." I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked down at my menu. "We should pick what we want."

Even as I pretended to focus on the menu, I snuck glances at Nazarene's touchy-feely behavior with Tristan. She always had to be touching him, whether it was a hand on his knee or her head on his shoulder. It made me want to jump out of my skin.

Tristan cleared his throat and attempted to lighten the mood. "I'm thinking…literally anything but waffles with pickles and bacon." He flashed me a hesitant smile.

I managed to smile back, but after we ordered, the awkward conversation continued.

"This town is so cute," Nazarene said. "Anywhere in particular I should explore while I'm here?"

"What did you have in mind?" I asked.

"Is there a spa?"

"There is one. It's called Dandelion. I know the owner. It's more of a full-service salon, but it's the closest thing we have."

"Do they do Brazilian blowouts?"

I scrunched my nose. "What's that?"

"It's a keratin treatment to straighten hair. You've never heard of it?"

"No. I don't really get my hair done. I don't think I've cut it in three years."

"No offense, but I was going to say..." She looked down to where my hair fell over my chest. "I can see your split ends. You could probably use a trim."

Tristan's brows furrowed as he flashed her a dirty look. He turned to me. "Don't listen to her. Your hair is beautiful."

The table went silent. I didn't know how to respond to that. I doubted either of our significant others thought much of it, but it rendered me speechless.

Nazarene backtracked. "I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sorry if it came out that way." She switched gears. "What else is there to do here?"

"Not that much, aside from the few bars and restaurants we have," Ethan answered.

"The beauty is in what you don't do here," Tristan countered. "It's more of an escape than anything, if you ask me. That's why I like it so much. It reminds me of the small town where I grew up in Iowa. You don't need to go anywhere to enjoy it. That night we went to the karaoke bar, after we came home, I sat on the deck, listened to the trees, and gazed at the stars. Can't remember the last time I did that."

Nazarene looked confused. "I didn't know you went outside that night. What time was that?"

"After you went to sleep, around two in the morning."

I realized that was when he'd texted me. I had to stop myself from analyzing why he'd thought of me while gazing up at those stars.

After we ordered, the food came fairly quickly, and at least then we were able to bury our heads in our plates rather than continue the conversation.

That is, until Ethan let the cat out of the bag.

"What are you two doing the rest of the day?" Nazarene asked as she picked at the sunny-side-up eggs she'd barely touched.

"Well, I'm taking the birthday girl here shopping to pick out a present."

Tristan's eyes went wide. "Birthday girl?"

"Today is my birthday," I admitted.

Nazarene's mouth dropped open. "Oh wow! How old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

"Aw…" She tilted her head. "So young."

Not too young for your boyfriend. I shook that from my thoughts.

"How did I not know it was your birthday?" Tristan frowned.

"Well, I never told you." I shrugged. "Now you know."

Tristan said almost nothing the rest of the time at Sparky's.

Before we parted ways, Nazarene planted a kiss on each of my cheeks, European-style. And Tristan left with a lingering scowl on his face.

***

Ethan took me to a fancy Italian restaurant in St. Louis that night. He did everything in his power to make me feel special, and I felt guilty, because I couldn't stop thinking about Tristan. I felt so guilty, in fact, that I decided not to go home with Ethan, but have him drive me back to my mother's house instead.

After I got home, about eleven thirty, Tristan texted.

Tristan: Are you alone or is he with you?

Emily: I'm alone.

Tristan: Can I call you?

Emily: Sure.

The phone rang a minute later.

I picked up. "Hey."

He spoke softly. "Hi."

"What's up?"

"Did you have a nice birthday?"

"Yeah. It was a great day, actually."

"I'm sorry I didn't know. I feel so dumb."

"How could you know if I never told you?"

"Still not cool. I should've investigated on my own."

"It's not a big deal. I don't understand why you're upset."

"I don't understand it myself, but I felt like shit all day because I couldn't celebrate with you. It made me feel like we were strangers. I couldn't stop thinking about you." He sighed. "I guess old habits die hard. Or maybe…" He paused. "Sometimes they don't die at all."

I didn't know what to say to that, even if I knew exactly what he meant.

"Can I come over?" He exhaled. "I got you something."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to. Is it okay if I stop by and give it to you?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Okay. I'll be there in about fifteen."

I did nothing but nervously rearrange things until I saw Tristan's car pull up in front of my house.

Opening the front door, I watched as he exited the car and approached holding what looked like a large basket. The moment I saw what it was, I covered my mouth in disbelief. "What the heck?"

"I can explain…" He laughed.

Staring back at me was the biggest rabbit I'd ever laid eyes on. It had long floppy ears and was the size of a large cat. It was sitting on a pile of pink flowers.

Oh my God. Pink peonies.

"Let me preface this by saying my idea was to get you a cute little bunny to mimic the dream you told me you had when you were thirteen."

I continued to look down at the rabbit in shock.

"Anyway, I called a bunch of shelters, and one finally assured me they had a bunny. I told them it had to be little and have floppy ears. Those were my main conditions. They obviously lied about the little part. So I committed to coming to pick it up, not knowing how damn big she was." He sighed. "I felt bad, so I took her anyway."

" She ? Does she have a name?"

"Bertha."

"Oh my gosh. She looks like a Bertha."

"Pretty sure she's half dog or something."

I snorted as I lifted the rabbit out of the basket. A bunch of the peonies flew around, falling to the ground as Bertha resisted being held. I took her into my arms anyway. "This rabbit is several pounds bigger than the one in my dream."

"I figured that." He sighed. "I can take her back. I-"

"No way! I would never allow you to do that. I will love on this creature for as long as I live. She's staying with me."

"You don't have to keep her."

"How the heck did you remember that dream anyway?"

"I've paid attention to everything you've ever told me. You've opened up in bits and pieces, so when you do, I make sure I'm listening. That dream left an impression on me. It made me feel a little sad but proud of you at the same time. You're right that your dad doesn't deserve the time of day or your tears." Tristan scratched between Bertha's ears. "I always had it in my mind that someday I was gonna get you that damn bunny and the peonies, too. Your birthday seemed like the perfect opportunity. And it would've been really great if the shelter hadn't fucked me over."

I giggled. "Even if she's not the bunny of my dreams, she's the rabbit of my life."

He looked back over at his car. "Well, good. I brought you everything else you need for her. But I couldn't carry it all in because it would've ruined the effect."

"Pretty sure Bertha herself ruined the effect."

He nodded. "She is bigger than the basket."

"I don't know what to say. This is so sweet, yet so bizarre."

"If it turns out you can't handle her, I'll take her."

"And how are you gonna take care of a rabbit while you're on tour?"

"I'll hire someone to do it."

"I forgot you can just do that. But it shouldn't be necessary." I kissed between her ears. "We should be fine, huh, Bertha?" The rabbit tried to wriggle out of my arms. "But you'd better grab the other stuff so I can take her inside. She's getting a little rambunctious."

"On it," he said, running back to his Range Rover.

After a moment, Tristan carried in a three-foot exercise pen, along with a bunch of food, alfalfa hay, and other supplies. He'd apparently spent the afternoon researching what I'd need.

After we arranged everything in a corner of my bedroom, he asked, "Where's your mom?"

"She's sleeping."

"I'm surprised we didn't wake her up."

"She's a pretty sound sleeper. She uses a white noise machine."

He poured some pellets into a bowl. "Did you ever tell your mom the truth about us?"

I nodded. "Yeah. She knows everything."

"Shit," he muttered.

"She doesn't care."

"She must hate me for messing with you."

"She doesn't."

"Well, then I got really lucky."

"Where does Nazarene think you are right now?" I asked.

"I told her the truth."

My eyes widened. "You told her you were bringing me a rabbit for my birthday?"

"She was with me earlier when I went to pick everything up."

"She doesn't think it's weird that you bought your son's ex-girlfriend a rabbit?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure she's wondering about a lot of things right now. Especially after the way I reacted at the restaurant earlier. She's not very happy in general. I'm having a hard time with this, and it's showing."

"With what in particular?"

He stared into my eyes, taking a few steps closer. "What am I having a hard time with? Pretending you're just some friend of my son's and nothing more to me. Pretending it doesn't hurt to see you with another guy. Pretending I'm a better person than I am. Pretending I don't practically taste you on my tongue whenever I'm close enough to smell you." He shook his head. "Pretending I can make all of this go away if I just act responsibly."

The space closed between us, and my hand had a mind of its own as I ran my fingers through his silky hair. It felt like forever since I'd touched it.

He closed his eyes and groaned before pulling away. "I should go."

"Yeah…" The air suddenly felt cold. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"You're good. It's nothing you did, beautiful. I just don't want to leave, and that's exactly why I should."

"Okay. I understand." I walked him to the door.

"Happy birthday, Emily."

"Thank you again for my surprise. I'll cherish her."

He rubbed his hand along my cheek. "I cherish you ."