“We have to start somewhere,” he said, laughing a little. “I’m glad this worked. I’ve missed you. You’re good company.” On a deep sigh, Dylan closed his eyes and forced himself to treat Tristan like he would any of his buddies.
“Thank you for understanding everything,” Dylan said. They didn’t have much in common. Maybe Tristan golfed—he’d never thought to ask that question. So they were going to be friends. All right, he’d play along. Worship from afar and figure his shit out when the time came.
“Of course, no problem. I’ll message you details as I know them. I’ll see you Friday,” Tristan said.
“Thanks for calling,” Dylan offered, not sure how to end the call.
“Thanks for answering. We’ll talk more later. Goodbye.”
“Bye,” he said, hanging up the phone.
Friends. Okay. He could try friendship. He already knew how to long from afar. Ambien had become his friend where that was concerned. Maybe seeing Tristan in this capacity was better than not seeing him at all, because he knew how bad that prospect sucked firsthand.
“You look good,” Teri said, leaning against the doorframe between their bedroom and bathroom. Dylan stood at the sink wearing nothing but his boxers while shaving. He moved his eyes from the swipe of the razor and looked over at Teri then focused his gaze back on the blade sliding across his face. Once done, he rinsed and answered.
“Are you making fun of me?” Dylan asked, bringing the blade back to his cheek for another swipe.
“Not at all. Your hair’s perfect. The tan looks great. I saw the clothes on the bed. You’re gonna impress,” Teri exclaimed, grinning big. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you this way.”
“The best I can hope for is passable. You should see him,” Dylan mumbled, rinsing the blade again.
“You’re gonna hold your own, trust me. Is there any chance you’ll be seen?” she asked. Over the years, Teri had been a professional at being seen out without being noticed. Dylan not so much. He’d be too skittish. He was just never any good at lying. It was why he stayed quiet so much of the time.
“We’re having dinner in his room. No big deal. It’s not like that anymore.” Dylan bent over the sink and ran water over his face to wipe away the remnants of the lather.
“I’m glad you’re doing this,” Teri piped in. Dylan checked his face, made sure he got everything off, and dried himself before he scooted past her in the doorway.
“I don’t know. It’s been a hard couple of weeks. I don’t want to put the kids through all my moods again.” Dylan pulled his slacks on.
“I think they’re sturdier than you give them credit for,” Teri countered.
“Not now, it’s not fair. This should be the time of their lives. Their only focus should be graduating and starting college. Not that their father’s gay and can’t keep his emotional shit together,” he repeated. This time out loud, the other million or so times had been a running chorus through his head.
“That’s not the way we raised our children. We’re a family and stick together no matter what,” Teri started, but Dylan stopped her as he carefully pulled the polo over his head, trying not to mess up the nice cut his hairdresser had given him.
“We’ve had this talk. When did you become such a fan of Tristan’s?” Dylan asked, tucking his shirt inside his khakis before fastening them. The belt was last. He pushed the leather through the loops as he walked across the bedroom to the dresser mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing out the ends, satisfied with what he saw.
When he realized Teri hadn’t answered, he looked back over his shoulder. She stood there, staring intently at him. She was fighting something; she had the look. He knew her too well.
“What’s wrong?”
“You look good, I promise,” she said, snapping out of whatever held her thoughts. She walked over to him without giving him any clue. “What about cologne? I think the Armani Code Ultimate I got you for Christmas last year.” She fingered through the different scents until she found the dark bottle. “It’s unusual.”
He didn’t question the selection—she always knew better about these things—and gave himself a couple of sprays. He grabbed his wallet, dropping it in his back pocket, and then his keys and money clip—those went to his front pocket.
“Perfect. Are you wearing a jacket?”
“I thought my bomber,” he replied.
“Good. I like that one the best on you. You’ll look like a classic movie star,” she said dreamily as he grabbed the jacket from his closet. Once done he went to stand in front of her for better inspection. She grinned at him, fixing his collar under the jacket.
“He’s not gonna know what hit him,” Teri stated confidently, her smile growing broader.
“We decided we’re gonna be friends. I keep telling you that.”
“Take his picture if you can tonight. Damn, I wanna see him when he opens that door.” Teri winked at him.
“You’re good for the ego, even if you do lie,” he chuckled and watched another round of something he couldn’t explain cross over her face. “You all right?”
“I’m fine, why?”
“You’re being weird.” He shook his head at her continued silence. “I need to get going. I’m gonna be late.”
“Have fun,” Teri exclaimed before opening their bedroom door.
“I’ll be home early,” he responded, walking down their hall. The kids’ rooms were on the other side of the house. A catwalk separated the two areas.
“I hope not,” she whispered, taking the back staircase down to the first floor. Dylan rolled his eyes at her. “Stay for the weekend if you can.”
Cate entered from the side garage door as he was headed out. “Dad, you look handsome!”
“Thanks, baby,” he leaned in for her kiss.
“Mom, you shouldn’t let him go out like this. Miranda’s dad left her mom for a twenty-year-old. They said it’s a mid-life crisis,” Cate stated-matter-of-factly.
“Wait a second. Miranda’s dad’s like fifty. I’m only thirty-seven. I’m not old enough for a mid-life crisis. You give me a compliment, then insult me by saying I’m old?” Dylan teased, walking out into the garage. That got Cate laughing. “Sheesh!”