Page 57 of The Tryst

I nod earnestly, needing the hope.

“It’s that true love has taken root between you and Trey, and that one day, you’ll marry my boy, be my daughter for real, and give me pretty grandbabies. I try to hold on to a glimpse of that future to keep me from falling apart right now. I’m going to suggest you do the same.”

My heart hurts and mends at the same time. I pull Fi into a tight hug, squeezing her with all my might. “I hope I grow up to be as strong as you one day.”

I can feel Fi nod, but then she starts sobbing and I hold her tightly. We stay like that for what seems forever, and then she’sback to being strong again. She grabs tissues from a box on the back counter and we wipe our faces and blow our noses.

“Want a cinnamon roll?” she asks.

I don’t. My stomach feels like I would hurl it right back up, but I know Fi provides comfort by baking and I want her to think her efforts make a difference to me. “Sure,” I say, and move to the coffee pot. “Want another cup of coffee?”

“No thank you, love,” she says, turning back to the task of icing the remaining rolls.

It’s quiet in the kitchen as Fi hums a soft tune and I doctor up a cup of coffee at the kitchen window. Again, so bright outside as the back pastures sparkle with morning dew. I wonder if Trey can even see color right now, or is he stuck in a world of depressing gray?

I want to know. I want to pester him to let me in and let me make things Technicolor for him, but I need to exercise patience. I’ll do it because Fi asked me to, and wild horses couldn’t drive me away.

All of a sudden, a loud snort comes from Fi and I turn to find her head bowed. I move to her side, lay a hand on her arm. “Are you okay?” I ask, ready to comfort her through another sob fest.

She lifts her head and those eyes reddened by hours of tears sparkle with amusement and she starts laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I ask hesitantly.

“I was thinking about that time when Wade was ten, and he got it into his head that he was going to build the grandest treehouse Shelbyville had ever seen. He enlisted you, Kat and Abby to help him.”

I chuckle. “I totally remember that. We spent days gathering wood and supplies.”

“And Wade, bein’ the enthusiastic leader, climbed the tree to start buildin’ the foundation. Halfway through, he realized he’dnever actually learned how to build a treehouse. Ended up stuck in the tree, with the ‘foundation’ fallin’ apart beneath him.”

Fi laughs harder and I can’t help but join in. “We had to go get Trey to help us get him down. He had to climb up and rescue Wade.”

“Got a stern talkin’-to from me, he did,” Fi says, her laughter fading into a fond chuckle. “That boy was always up to no good.”

Fi picks up the pan of cinnamon rolls and carries it to the table. I grab my coffee and follow her. We sit across from one another, and she pulls a piece from the pan. As she pops it in her mouth, I do the same. Admittedly, my empty stomach needed it because I feel a little better.

“Remember when Wade went through a phase where he was obsessed with magic tricks?”

Fi grins wide. “Practiced for hours in his room, convinced he could become the next great magician.” Her face screws up into a frown. “It was all cute until he decided to perform that trick where he’d make my favorite vase disappear.”

I nod with a laugh, remembering the great show he put on one evening after Sunday dinner. “I remember the look on his face when he opened the box up after it supposedly disappeared, only to have it fall out and crash to the floor.”

Fi shakes her head, her smile faltering. “What I wouldn’t give to have him here breaking all my favorite vases right now.”

“Me too,” I whisper, the loss once again pressing down on me.

Until Fi giggles. I lift an eyebrow in silent question. “County fair, sixteen years old.”

I snort so loud I cover my nose with my hand, holding back a guffaw. I mumble through my fingers. “He wanted to impress Kimberly Darfan and entered the talent show.”

“Borrowed his da’s old guitar, he did, and practiced a song for weeks. The day of the fair, he got up onstage, nervous as acat in a room full of rockin’ chairs. Started playin’, but halfway through, he forgot the lyrics.” Fi’s smile remains but her eyes turn sad and reflective. “Stood there, strummin’ the guitar, and then he just started makin’ up words, singin’ about everything he saw in the crowd. By the end, everyone was laughin’ and cheerin’. The girl he was serenading? She thought it was the funniest and sweetest thing ever. That was our Wade—always turnin’ mishaps into joy.”

We eat cinnamon rolls and share more stories. Tommy comes in to join us for a bit, the kitchen feeling a little warmer, a little brighter. The strain of tragedy looms heavily, but for a beat, we’re able to find comfort in the memories of Wade’s vibrant spirit.

CHAPTER 20

Trey

Two days ofavoiding everyone, holing up at my house, and sleeping in Wade’s bedroom hasn’t done much to dull the pain or guilt. It’s like a heavy cloak I can’t shake off. The house feels too quiet, too empty, and every corner holds a memory of Wade. I lie in his bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the events that led to his death over and over in my mind.

---