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.
I had no intention of letting the subject go, though. I had to know what this meant. My very sanity depended on it.
He would not do that, I told myself. He would not go near my sister, not like that, not after everything we’d been through together. He’d have known that would kill me.
No, I told myself again. He just wouldn’t. There has to be some explanation.
I tapped her bare shoulder.
She was sprawled out in a tiny yellow bikini, her pale skin gleaming in the sun. I didn’t know how she wasn’t burning, she’d been laying out so long.
She lowered her shades to peer at me, but didn’t take out her headphones.
I tapped my own ear, feeling impatient.
She took one ear bud out, raising her brow at me. “What’s up? Is Jack behaving?”
“He’s fine,” I told her tersely. “Bev is keeping an eye on him for a few minutes. We need to talk.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not right now. I’m relaxing.”
“Right now,” I shot back.
Her eyes widened at my tone. I usually treated her with kid gloves.
I didn’t drag her out of her lounge chair, but it was a close thing.
I took her all the way to my old room, shutting the door behind us.
“Are you seeing Tristan?” I asked her, voice shaking. I couldn’t keep my cool for even a second about this.
She sighed and sat on the bed. She reminded me of a sulky teenager, with the way she curled her lip at me. “Jack said something,” she guessed.
I nodded, mouth tight, fists clenched. “He said he saw you kissing. Tell me the truth. Are you seeing him?”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about this. You and Tristan! God! I refuse to talk about him with you.”
“Are you seeing him?” I asked again through clenched teeth.
I wanted to shake her, or worse, though I knew the true source of my anger wasn’t her. It was him. She was my sister, but it felt like the real betrayal was coming from him.
Logic had left the building.
She let out an annoyed little grunt, exactly like a teenager. “I’ve started seeing Adair, okay? Tristan still comes around, helps with Jack, gives him some of the male attention he needs, but anything that happened, anything between us, ugh, it’s over.” She grinned suddenly. “I know what you’re thinking; I’m making my way through the entire band.” She laughed like that was funny.
My eyes were wide on her and filled with horror. “That is not what I was thinking. Is that what you’re doing?”
She laughed again. She was way too amused by all of this, when I wanted to tear my own hair out. Tear her hair out.
“No, that’s not what I’m doing. It’s just, you know, how it probably would look to some people.”
“I’m not asking how it looks. I’m asking how it is. What happened between you and Tristan? Why did Jack tell me he saw you kissing?”
She waved that off. “I don’t want to talk about it, and like I said, whatever it was, it’s over now.” Her eyes narrowed on me suddenly. “You don’t get to throw him away and then decide who he gets to see. I never would have thrown him away.”