“And if life isn’t always happy?”
“We’ll face it together.” John leaned back in his chair and stared at his brother with a gaze that saw too much. “Is this about Mom?”
Was Tristan really so transparent to everyone around him? “I suppose it might be,” he said, feeling sulky and ridiculous. He was a grown-ass man. This wasn’t a very macho conversation to be having with his brother, or any guy for that matter. He felt like he was losing control. Of his life. Of the situation at work. Of everything.
John finished his wine and poked at what was left of his cinnamon donut dessert. “We both went through hell with Mom. Dad did, too. But in some ways, you took the brunt of it. I was too little to understand it all. Dad was too wrapped up in helping her get through treatment. But you, Tristan, you carried the emotional weight. She used to ask you to sing to her. Do you remember that?”
“Of course I do. It was the only way she could fall asleep in the afternoons when she needed rest so badly. I watched her slipping away, and I hated it. I didn’t want to love her anymore because it hurt so much.”
“And that made you feel guilty and helpless.”
“Yeah.”
John sat up and leaned forward, his expression urgent. “You’ve got to get a handle on this. Before it interferes between you and Daley. You’ve shut yourself off from the deepest part of life because you think having surface relationships with women will protect you. But Daley has made it past your defenses. I can see it. You know it’s true.”
“So you’re insinuating I need to see a shrink.”
“It’s not a bad idea. But no. Not necessarily. I do think you need to ask yourself if it’s better to be alone and not deal with any emotions or to take a chance and go all in with how you feel about her.”
“I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?” Tristan said, looking at John helplessly.
“Our feelings are our feelings. We’re stuck with them. But look at the facts. Mom is still with us. Tabby is going to have a good pregnancy. Daley seems to care about you despite all the odds.”
“Very funny.”
Before John could throw any more verbal punches, the women returned to the table.
The men stood.
John kissed her cheek. “Better, my love?”
“Yes. But I’m flat-out tired. This has been great. Thank you both for dinner.”
Daley kissed Tabby’s cheek. “Go to your nice bed and get some rest, little mama. We’ll have lots more time for partying.”
John rolled his eyes. “At least until this kid gets here.”
Tristan noticed that his brother didn’t look at all upset about the prospect of a curtailed social life.
In the parking lot, they said their goodbyes.
When John and Tabby pulled away, Tristan looked over the hood of the car at Daley. “You ready to go home?”
Her smile hit him in the gut. “I am,” she said. “I’ve looked forward to it all day. My significant other has been on my mind.”
“I’m gonna be on more than your mind,” he muttered. “A week is too long, Daley. And I guess you’re going to sputter and wring your hands if I suggest moving in together.”
Her jaw dropped. Her cheeks turned pink. “How much have you had to drink?”
“One glass of wine. Not even all of it. I’m dead sober. I don’t like having to be apart for days at a time.”
“Wow. Okay. Maybe we can talk about this later.”
“After sex?”
She smiled. “Sure.”
He tucked her in the car, leaning in to kiss the side of her neck beneath her ear. “I’m going to make us both very, very happy,” he whispered.