Page 62 of Crave

I turn my attention back to Tristan who is looking up at Jake in awe. I’m so lost in how much they look alike, I don’t hear what they’re saying. It’s only when Jake squats down and Tristan jumps on his back that I realize he was asking for a piggyback ride.

“You okay, Dee? You look a bit flustered.”

“Um, yeah. I’m fine. It’s just that Tristan looks a lot like you, Jake.”

“Uncanny, isn’t it?”

“And how old are you, Tristan?” I ask him.

“Almost five,” he says proudly. “Are you coming to my party this year, Uncle Jake? You never come, and I really, really want you to come this year, okay?” Uncle Jake doesn’t respond, but that doesn’t deter Tristan, who yells to Troy, “Daddy! I want Uncle Jake to come to my birthday party this year. You have to make him come since you’re the big brother. You told me I have to look out for the new baby, so you have to look out for Uncle Jake, okay? Daddy can come pick you up, Uncle Jake. He always used to go pick up Emma but now she lives with us.” And on and on he goes. With his little hands wrapped around his Uncle Jake, Tristan Clark continues to talk without taking a breath or giving his uncle the opportunity to respond.

After a few minutes, Troy calls Tristan and he reluctantly leaves to go to his father, but not before telling us he’d be right back.

“I don’t think he came up for air once,” Jake says to me. I give him a small smile, unsure of what to say. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. It’s just that he looks an awful lot like you. An awful lot. Like a lot.” Instead of answering me right away, he puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me to his side, walking me towards the side door to the house.

“He’s not mine.”

“He’s about the right age.”

“He’s not mine. It’s been verified. Come inside and let’s find my aunt and uncle. I want to introduce you.”

“Verified? As in paternity test?”

A curt nod is the only response I get, and I drop the subject.

“And who is Emma exactly?” I ask, looking back at the little girl.

“She’s Tracy’s niece. Her brother’s daughter,” he says curtly.

On our way to the house, we walk by Tracy, who is sitting on a loveseat, her swollen feet propped on an ottoman. She doesn’t try to hide her interest in us as we walk past her on our way inside the house, but Jake doesn’t acknowledge her and neither do I.

We step into the kitchen, filled with people and catering staff. I spot Jake’s parents talking to another couple, and upon a closer look, the other man looks just like Jake and his dad. The only difference being his lack of facial hair. Next to him, is a younger woman with clear, beautiful brown skin and a short, cropped hairstyle with smatterings of gray. Her eyes light up when she sees Jake.

We walk over, and he introduces me to his Uncle John, his dad’s twin brother, and his wife Theresa.

“Sandy’s a margarita girl just like us, Terry. Let me pour you one, dear. Jakey, do you want a beer?” Lilian Clark, without waiting for either of us to answer, turns towards the refrigerator.

“Your mom’s been telling me about you two, Jake. Why has it taken you this long to bring Sandy over here? Sandy, you don’t have to wait for this one to come over here. We have an open-door policy in this family. I heard you two met at Lil’s birthday party?”

“I didn’t want to scare her away, Aunt T, and we did, but it wasn’t that simple. I had to chase her for weeks. I wanted to keep her to myself for a little while first,” Jake says.

“Too bad we couldn’t make it to the party.” I search her face, but she smiles at me as Lil walks back with the drinks. “I had a death in my family so we were out of town. Let’s toast,” she says as she hands me a glass.

Lilian Clark’s eyes are glued to her son as we toast, a smile on her face. She only looks away from Jake when the sliding door opens.

“Here’s my firstborn,” Lilian says, and we all turn around to see Troy and Tracy enter through the house. Troy walks over and Tracy waddles behind him. “Where are the kids, honey?” Lilian asks, walking over and hugging her son.

“Luke just got here. They’re with him.” His eyes turn to me, and he smiles.

“Hello, Sandy. You remember Tracy, my wife?” Just the sound of Troy’s voice causes Jake’s body to go rigid. His grasp on my hand tightens, and his body language goes from friendly to hostile. I gently prod my hand from his grasp to shake Troy and Tracy’s hands, but the minute I finish, his vise-like grip returns.

The conversation suddenly dries up and we all stand there awkwardly. I chastise myself for the knot that’s suddenly in my stomach. I take a huge sip of my drink to drive out the thoughts of shaking Tracy’s hand. The same hand that used to roam my man’s body.

“Let me get you a drink, Troy.” Lilian turns toward the fridge, and says over her shoulder, “I’ll grab some water for you, Tracy,” she says, her voice void of the warmth she had earlier.

“Sandy,” Lilian says as she hands Troy a beer and Tracy a water bottle. “Did Jake tell you about the Fourth of July party? It’s at our summer home on Martha’s Vineyard, so save the date. We also celebrate Labor Day there too. We have a huge lobster bake on the beach, weather permitting.”

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