Lovely Trigger (Tristan & Danika 3)

“Yeah, it’s hard to take, that we were there and didn’t stop it.”

“Yeah, it is.  I can guarantee Cory and Kenny were clueless, too.  None of us would have let a thing like that slide.  You have to know that.”

I had.  I’d just needed to hear it out loud.  “Ignorance is no excuse.  We owe that poor girl, Adair, and that kid doesn’t have a father.  The least we can do—“

“I couldn’t agree more.  I’ll call her today.  I just, I don’t know, I thought there was something between the two of you.  I know she always had a thing for you, right from the start.  Didn’t want to step on your territory.”

“She’s like a kid sister to me.  I have no claim there.  Not my territory.”

“So you don’t mind if…?”

“You can ask her out.  But treat her right.  I would take it real personal if you put her through more pain that she’s already been through.  You understand?”

“Yes.  I’m not how I used to be, man.  I’ve grown up.  I’ll treat her right, if she’s interested, I swear.”

That suited me fine.  Dahlia needed to find a new focus for her infatuation.

THREE YEARS AFTER THE ACCIDENT

DANIKA

The stars had aligned, and Bev threw a huge neighborhood BBQ in her backyard during one of my business trips to Vegas at the same time that Dahlia was visiting her least favorite town on the planet.

I got to spend the afternoon in the pool with Mat, Ivan, and little Jack.  It was a charmed day, and so rare that I knew to savor every second of it.

The boys were nine and eleven now, and I still saw them often, but every time I set eyes on them again, I couldn’t believe how much they’d grown and changed.

They hadn’t seen much of Jack, but they went out of their way to be nice to him, and spend time playing games with him.  They were darling boys, and they loved me almost as much as I adored them, and since Jack was my family, they treated him like their family.  Bev and Jerry did it too.  It was heartwarming.

Dahlia hung back a bit from it all, but I knew that it was rare for her to get a break from caring for Jack, and so she enjoyed an afternoon of sunbathing, headphones keeping her from even so much as hearing the loud pool party going on around her.

I didn’t mind a bit.  I was only too happy to get in all the time I could and grateful that she trusted me to care for Jack amidst the chaos.

I played pool games for hours with my three boys and several of the neighbor kids.  I was still good in the water.  Better than I was at walking, in fact.  My knee, with all of its lost cartilage, was lighter there.

I had a blast with those boys.  More fun than I’d had in ages.  And all the while, I had to keep my mind from agonizing over the fact that I’d never get to have any of my own.

I’d always loved kids, always had such a knack for caring for them.  I tried not to rage against the unfairness of it all.

The dark thoughts never lasted long, as the boys were always pulling me back into their games.

It was such a wonderful day, but it was ruined by the most unlikely source.

Bev and Jerry’s relationship was stronger than ever, and very occasionally, they had random moments of PDA.

The boys had grown a lot, but upon seeing their parents kissing, they still howled in disgusted dismay.

I was holding Jack when it happened.  He was getting big, but not too big to perch on my hip and carry around the pool.

“They kissin’?” Jack asked me.

I glanced back at Bev and Jerry.  They were really going at it.  “Yeah, Cap’n Jack, they are kissing.  Probably giving each other cooties as we speak.”  I demonstrated by giving him a big smacking kiss on the cheek that made him dissolve into giggles.

“Mommy and Unca Twistan kiss, too,” he gasped out when I let up.

It goes without saying, I didn’t take that well.

I had to sit down, suddenly feeling weak.  I’m not proud of the fact that I then had to interrogate a three year old.

My sister was just so secretive that I didn’t expect to get enough answers out of her to satisfy me.  I’d rather go into a conversation with her with some answers already in hand.

“You have an Uncle Tristan, Jack?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.

He nodded happily.  “He’s stwongest man in the world.  He tells me to eat my bwoccoli, and takes me to the park.”

I had a few insane moments where I tried to reason to myself that it could be a different Tristan, but I was an odds player, and what were the odds?

“He has magic.”

Any hope I’d had disappeared in a puff of smoke.  “What kind of magic?”

“He teaches me card twicks and can make anything disappear.  Anything.”

“Do you see him often?”

He nodded vigorously.  “All the time.  I wish he lived with us.  And you.  I wish you lived with us.”

“I live close enough, cap’n.  I visit all the time too.  Would you say he visits you more or less often than I do?”

Jack, a three year old that was quickly growing bored with the conversation, didn’t even hear that last question.  He was pointing across the yard, where Ivan had begun to fill up a ridiculous amount of water balloons.

Sighing, I let him run over to help.