He started down the walkway. Oh, no. Oh, no, she didn't!
'Hey, Owen?' I called after him.
He stopped and turned. 'Yeah?'
'Did Sophia put you up to this?'
He started walking again and called back, 'Just doing my job, Alexis.'
Son of a witch! She had Owen checking up on me. And he'd conveniently shown up right after Tristan left, as if he'd been watching. A babysitter?! Seriously?!
But then I wondered if it had been Owen whom I heard outside last night, checking on me. That would be a good thing. He gave good vibes and Mom trusted him, so I should, too. Right?
Tristan showed up at the door at ten the next morning with coffee, croissants and his backpack in hand and we spent the morning studying. By one o'clock, he'd had enough. He strode over to the backdoor and gazed out the window.
'It's a beautiful day for a ride,' he hinted. When I didn't answer, he came over to my chair, dropped on his knees, clasped his hands together and stuck his lower lip out deliciously. He lowered his voice. 'Please?'
Like I could resist that. Or the offer.
'Why not? My brain's fried, too.'
He grinned. 'You'll want to put on jeans and real shoes. No flip-flops for this ride.'
We cruised the streets of Cape Heron, and then headed for I-75. Holy crap! What am I thinking? I panicked at the realization of having absolutely no control—I put my life into his hands. I squeezed my eyes shut and held onto Tristan tightly, my muscles tense as the wind rushed against my face and the sounds of cars and trucks seemed way too close. Exhaust fumes and the smell of hot rubber filled my nose. My body was welded to Tristan's back by the time we left the highway only a couple exits later. I breathed a sigh of relief that we survived.
At the slower speed, the ride was spectacular. The sun shone brightly in the clear October sky and the smell of oily warmth rose off the pavement. After a while, we crossed the causeway to Gasparilla Island. I rested my chin on Tristan's shoulder as we cruised along the tree-lined boulevard, catching an occasional glimpse of the Gulf of Mexico on one side and the bay on the other, between the large houses. We rode through the quaint little town of Boca Grande, which reminded me a lot of Cape Heron. He stopped the bike in a parking lot at the end of the island and we gazed over the sugary sand and steel-blue water as pelicans dive-bombed for their dinner. Two dolphins jumped and twisted in the air, playing with each other.
'Nice, huh?' Tristan asked.
'Perfect,' I breathed. I was still close against him, my arms wrapped around his waist. He held my hands in front of him.
'Let's take a walk and stretch our legs, then I'll take you out to dinner.'
As we rode down my street later, sadness grew within me, knowing our perfect day was coming to a close. Night had fallen and the street was quiet except for the Harley's distinct rumble. As we pulled in front of the cottage and I saw Mom's car in the driveway and a light on inside, I was sadder still that our perfect weekend was over. We both took a deep breath and sighed heavily after he cut the engine, knowing the next few minutes, at least, wouldn't be pleasant. I leaned against the backrest, not wanting to get off yet.
'Do you know why she doesn't like me?' Tristan asked.
'No, not really.'
He was quiet for a moment, then said, 'I'm sure she's worried about you because she loves you. And she has valid reasons for feeling the way she does, so you should probably listen to her.'
That sounded like a warning. Of what, I wasn't sure and I didn't want to know. Not now.
I leaned my forehead against his back and whispered, 'Please don't.'
'Don't what? Don't be honest?' His voice was low and heavy.
I sighed. Why should we start now? But that's not what I'd meant.
'Tristan, I don't know what will happen as soon as we walk in there. I've never seen her like this. But I had an amazing weekend with you and that's how I want to leave it. Let her be the one to ruin it. Not you. Please?'
He didn't respond right away.
'Understood,' he finally said. I reached my arms around him and he took my hands in each of his and gave them a squeeze. 'Just one thing, though. Just remember it's your life, Alexis. Do what you need to do for you. Not for me, not for her. Okay?'
'Yeah, of course,' I answered simply, but what he suggested was impossible. I didn't like upsetting Mom. I wanted her to be happy. And I wanted Tristan to be happy, too, because that's what he gave me. I couldn't do anything for me without some kind of consequence. I had to find a way to reconcile these differences. Mom just needs to get to know him. That was the answer. Surely she'd come around then, when she realized he was nothing like Lenny or his other relatives. If only she'd give him the chance….
'You had an amazing weekend with me, huh?' Tristan asked, his voice light and lovely again as we walked up to the cottage hand-in-hand.
'Very amazing.' I smiled at him. 'No matter what happens, it was worth it.'
'I agree.' He squeezed my hand, smiling back. 'And thank you for telling me how you feel.'
The door flew open before we reached the front porch. Mom stood in the doorframe, crossing her arms and glaring at us.
'Alexis,' she said curtly. 'Tristan.'
'Hi, Sophia, how was your…uh…convention?' I asked, trying in vain to sound relaxed and nonchalant.
She glared at Tristan and I saw him shake his head out of the corner of my eye, answering her silent question.
'Not what I hoped it would be,' she answered coldly, still staring at Tristan. Her eyes softened just a bit, though, as if his keeping her secrets meant something to her.
We all stood there awkwardly in deafening silence.
'I think I better go…' Tristan broke it first. It was almost a question, though.
'That's a good idea.' Mom leaned inside the door, picked something up, and held his backpack out to him.
He took the bag and squeezed my hand. 'See you in class tomorrow.'
Mom closed the door and followed me to the kitchen table, where my books were still spread out, waiting for my return.
'Alexis, I need to talk to you.'
'I really need to study. Mid-terms tomorrow.'
'Please. Just listen for a minute.'
I plopped onto a chair and looked at her expectantly, waiting for the lecture or tirade or whatever was coming. But she surprised me.
'Listen…there are apparently things I just need to work out with myself. There's obviously nothing I can do about this.' She threw her hands in my direction, but I knew she meant 'this' to mean Tristan and me together, as a couple. 'Did you spend a lot of time with him this weekend?'
I hesitated before answering, but I couldn't lie. 'Yes.'
'And you obviously still like him?'
'Yes.'
'Anything more?'
'I don't know. Maybe.' I sighed. 'I think so.'
She pursed her lips together and stared at me for a long moment. 'Just don't rush into anything too serious, okay?'
I didn't answer and she sighed.
'Never mind. I shouldn't have said that. You do what you feel is right and I'll just have to accept it. I knew it was coming. It was just a matter of when.'
She lost me. 'Is this specifically about Tristan or just about me getting serious with anyone in general?'
She pondered this question. 'Both. But, in the end, it doesn't matter. You're going to do what you want and so is he. I know everything will go the way it's supposed to. It will be good.'
