The Air He Breathes
Page 57

“Oh! And your mom somehow talked me into taking a workout class with her because she worries about my healthy diet of Doritos and soda. So I showed up to the class—turned out I was the only man there. I ended up doing Zumba for an hour straight. Lucky for me my hips don’t lie and I was a natural.”
I snickered.
He talked to me late into the night as I moved from room to room, listening to him tell me stories, listening to him talk about sports and how the Packers were still the top team in the NFL. At one point he cracked open a beer, and I opened one too. It almost felt as if we were drinking together.
When it was past midnight, he told me he needed to get to bed. He told me he loved me and would always be on the other end of the line if I ever just needed someone to talk my way.
Right before I went to hang up, my lips parted. “Thanks, Dad.”
I heard his voice crack and emotion take over him. “Anytime, Son. Call whenever you need to, day or night. And when you’re ready to come back, we’ll be here. We’ll be right here when you’re ready. We’re not going anywhere.”
The world needed more parents like mine.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Elizabeth
“You have four seconds to open this door before I come busting in to find you, woman!” Faye shouted on my front porch. When I opened the door, she gasped. “For the love of God, when was the last time you showered?”
I was wearing pajamas, my hair was in the messiest bun of the century, and my eyes were swollen. I raised my arm a little and smelled my underarm. “I put on deodorant.”
“Oh, honey.” She frowned, stepping into my living room. “Where’s Emma?”
“Friday night sleepover,” I explained, plopping down on the couch.
“What’s going on, Liz? Your boyfriend came into the café saying you haven’t been talking to him. Did he hurt you?”
“What? No. He’s…he’s perfect.”
“Then why the silent treatment? Why do you look like a homeless person?” She sat down next to me.
“Because I can’t talk to him anymore. I can’t be with him.” I went on to tell her about the accident, to explain why things with Tristan couldn’t work out. The seriousness that filled her stare was something I didn’t get often from Faye, which attested to how serious and real the situation was.
“Sweetie, you have to tell him. He’s falling apart trying to figure out what he did wrong.”
“I know. It’s just…I love him. And I know because of this, I’ll lose him.”
“Listen, I don’t know much about love, and when my heart was broken, I threw shit. Literally threw shit. After I got done throwing the shit, I was still heartbroken and sad. Someone told me that the heartbreak was worth it, because in the end at least you got to experience the love.”
I nodded and lay down, my head in her lap. “When does life stop hurting?”
“When we learn to tell life to fuck off and we find the littlest reasons to smile.”
“I’m sorry Matty broke your heart.”
She shrugged, pulling my hair tie out of my hair before starting to comb her fingers through it. “It’s okay. He only cracked it a little. So, what are we going to do for the rest of the night? We can be totally girly and watch The Notebook or some shit, or…we can order pizza, get some beer, and watch Magic Mike XXL.”
Magic Mike won.
The next afternoon, Emma and I walked into Needful Things to find Tristan smiling behind the coffee counter. “Hey, you guys!” he said with the widest grin ever.
“Hey, Tick!” Emma exclaimed, climbing up into one of the chairs.
He bent down and bopped her on the nose. “Hey, Tock. Hot cocoa?”
“With extra marshmallows!” she yelled.
“With extra marshmallows!” he echoed, turning away. His happy demeanor was a bit off-putting. I wasn’t sure what it meant, or how to take it. We hadn’t spoken in days, yet he was acting as if everything was perfect. “Elizabeth, can I get you something?”
He’d called me Elizabeth, not Lizzie.
“Just water,” I said, sitting beside Emma. “Is everything okay?” I asked him as he poured me a glass of water and handed Emma her ‘semi-hot’ cocoa, which he always added a few ice cubes to. She hopped out of her chair and hurried over to find Zeus.
“Everything’s fine. Everything’s good.”
I raised an eyebrow. “We should talk. I know you’re probably upset because I’ve been avoiding you…”
“Have you?” He smirked. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Yeah, it’s just—”
He started wiping off the counter. “That your husband killed my family? Yeah, no, that’s cool.”
“What?” My throat tightened and my ears rang as I replayed the words that had just left his mouth. “How did you…?”
“Your best friend Tanner stopped in for a bit yesterday. He wanted to, you know, try to talk Mr. Henson into closing his shop. So then he and I had a talk. He thought it was sweet how I was able to look past the fact that, you know, your husband killed my family.”
“Tristan.”
He placed the rag down on the counter, stood across from me, and leaned in. “How long have you known?”
“I—I wanted to tell you.”
“How long?”
“Tris…I didn’t know…”
“Dammit, Elizabeth!” he shouted, slamming his fist down. Emma and Mr. Henson turned toward us with looks of curious concern. He was quick to usher Emma into the back room. “How long? Did you know when you told me you loved me?”
I stayed quiet.
“Did you know at the wedding?”
My voice shook. “I thought…I thought I would lose you. I wasn’t sure how to tell you.”
He smiled a tight grin and nodded. “Awesome. That will be two dollars and twenty cents for the hot cocoa.”
“Let me explain.”
“Two-twenty, Elizabeth.”
His stormy eyes were cold once again. There was a coldness I hadn’t seen in his stare since the first day I’d met him. I reached into my pocket, pulled out some change, and placed it in front of me. Tristan picked up the money and tossed it into the cash register.
“We’ll talk later this week,” I said, my voice shaky. “If you let me, I’ll explain everything the best I can.”