Page 59 of Breaking Free

“Let him catch his breath, AJ. He just got here.” Lydia pushed the screen door wider and waved him in. “I have something on the stove. Come in and make yourself at home.”

He didn’t notice the apron until she mentioned the stove, but he would have known something was cooking from the glorioussmell as soon as he stepped into the house. After a weekend of Lydia’s cooking, he always left a pound or two heavier.

“Can I get you a beer? Or is it too early?”

“Ice water is fine. But I can get it.”

“No, sir. You sit, and let me serve you,” she said before disappearing into the kitchen.

Those words usually stirred his dominant juices. Spoken by a woman who was like a sister to him, and he knew for a fact was vanilla, they didn’t elicit so much as a spark.

He heard footsteps then her head appeared as she peeked around the doorjamb. “How long are you staying?”

“Through Sunday. That’s when AJ’s tournament ends, right?”

“If they make it that far. He’s got a game at six today and two tomorrow, then we’ll see. But I don’t want you spending your time off drudging for me. You should relax, maybe hit the beach. AJ is dying to show you the progress he’s made on his windsurfing.”

“Can we?” he asked, positively brimming with excitement. “I hardly fall anymore. It’s not riding twenty-foot curls like you do, but when my friends saw how fun it was, they all wanted boards.”

“Sure, we can. I’ll tackle the repairs on your mom’s list tonight.”

“Cool!”

“Lunch is almost ready. Go wash up,” she told him, before disappearing again.

Despite his appearance, AJ was never one to skip a meal or miss a snack. He did as his mother asked and dashed down the hallway, making enough noise for a herd of nine-year-olds rather than just one.

Lydia emerged from the kitchen with his drink in hand. “I appreciate your offer to be my maintenance man, Tris, but I can call someone. Really.”

“I’m happy to do it. Besides, you know me. I can’t sit still and never sleep, so I might as well help out while I’m here.”

Her smile faded. “You’re still not sleeping? Have you seen someone?”

“Don’t start, Lydia,” he softly insisted.

“I can’t help it. I worry.”

“I don’t want you to. You have enough on your plate.”

An alarm went off in the kitchen. “Sit and unwind after your drive. Lunch should be ready in ten minutes.” Walking away, she delivered some good news. “I made calzones, your absolute favorite. How’s that for a coincidence?”

“AJ must get his soothsaying from his mother,” he teased.

“He must,” she agreed with a grin as bright as the sun streaming in through the window behind her. Then she vanished into the kitchen once more.

As Tristan gazed after her, a sudden realization washed over him. Tall, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smile that could light up a room, Lydia bore a striking resemblance to Piper. Not just in looks but personality. Both women possessed an inherent sweetness and vulnerability he wanted to shield from the harshness of the world—himself included. It explained his visceral reaction to Piper, but not his intense desire for a girl who was the spitting image of his dead best friend’s wife.

He should have run to a shrink then and there. Instead, he tipped his glass up and drained it.

After the drive, sitting was the last thing he wanted to do, so he moved around her living room, taking in several new framed photos. Lydia decorated with pictures of friends and family. The mantel was so jam-packed with them, he didn’t think she couldsqueeze in another. He picked up the one in the center of her and Nolan on their wedding day.

Lydia always had a spark for life, and her eyes were filled with hope for the future that long-ago day. That spark had dimmed with the death of her husband, but it hadn’t extinguished. She had AJ to take care of.

She hid it well from her son, but Tristan could see the pain of her loss and grief. He felt it too, and the unfairness. Every time he walked into his best friend’s house and he wasn’t there to greet him was like a punch in the gut. Nolan should be the one fixing a loose gutter, getting a kiss on the cheek from his wife, and teaching AJ, who would be ten in a month, to windsurf. It should be Nolan playing catch with him, cheering him on from the stands at his ballgames, and shooting hoops with him in the driveway. Instead, he was gone, taken in an endless violent conflict on the other side of the world.

He tried to pick up the slack for Lydia, who’d never remarried, and with AJ, who wasn’t old enough to remember his dad. But he paled in comparison to the real thing.

Lydia joined him in the living room, cheeks flushed from the heat of the kitchen. She collapsed onto the couch, letting out a deep sigh. “Ten more minutes. It’s still doughy. You’d better add replacing the oven elements to your list.” She patted the cushion beside her and invited, “Sit and catch me up.”

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