He squints at one photo in particular of me at the beach, striking a cheesy pose. “You look adorable in this one.”
“I look like a dork.” I signal for him to go into the kitchen. I can’t take the vulnerability any longer. “Now, come on. Let’s get this show on the road.”
***
Two hours later, the six of us are playing soccer outside in the backyard. Everyone is laughing, happy, bellies full of good food. Mason seems to adore everyone, including Tristan, who is a lot better with kids than I thought he’d be. All three of them are, really. Even though their time in my life will be brief, I learned through the experience that living a lonely life is unfulfilling.
And right now, I feel… full.
And guilty.
Worried.
Happy.
Confused.
Sad.
Between people being here for my birthday, the call from Taylor, and life in general, I’m verging on an emotional overload.
“So, not so bad, right?” Jax asks as he jogs up to me on the grass, panting from all the running around.
I shrug as I watch Tristan kick the ball to Mason who then punts it to Nova. “I think he might have a crush on Nova,” I remark, amused when Mason winks at her. “Five years old, and he’s already a flirt. God, I’m going to have my hands full when he becomes a teenager.”
“You already do, don’t you?” Jax asks as he glances at everyone. “But in a good way, right?”
“Yeah, I think so.” I stare at Tristan as he runs around, celebrating with Mason over a point he scored. Then I straighten my shoulders and focus all of my attention on Jax because there’s something I need to say. “I think you should stop watching Mason so much,” I announce.
He winces like I’ve kicked him in the face. “What?”
“I don’t mean that in a bad way,” I hastily add. “I’m just starting to realize how much you probably need your own life.”
“Avery, I’m happy to help out,” he swears. “You’re letting me live with you for crying out loud. It’s the least I can do.”
“And I’m fine with you helping out, but not so much. You need your own life, too.”
“But you can’t afford daycare,” he presses. “You need me to help you.”
“I’ll figure something out.” I smile optimistically, even though I’m uncertain how I’m going to back up my promise. However, I vowed to myself I’ll find a way somehow. It’s time.
Before he can argue anymore, I step away from him and toward the wooden deck decorated with cheap patio furniture. “I’m going to go set the ice cream out so it can thaw, and then we can have cake.” I slip inside the house and wander over to the freezer, humming under my breath as I dig around for the three different ice cream flavors we picked up at the store. As I’m reaching for the cookie flavored one at the back, the back door slides open.
“I’m not going to argue with you, Jax,” I say, elbow deep in freezer food. “Things are going to change whether you like it or not.”
“That’s really great, but I’m not Jax,” Tristan says, causing me to jerk back and drop the two tubs of ice cream I had in my arms.
I whirl around then press back against the fridge when I note how little room Tristan has left between our bodies. “Sorry, I thought you were my brother.”
“Yeah, I got that when you called me Jax.” His cheeks are tinted pink from the sun, his blond hair unruffled, and he smells manly, like cologne and sweat. “You want me to pass along the message to him?”
Shaking my head, I bend down to scoop up the tub of ice cream. “No. I just thought he followed me to argue about something.”
Tristan crouches down to pick up the tub by his feet. “About things changing?”
I nod then straighten my legs and stand up. “Yeah, I was lecturing him that I was going to make him watch Mason less.” I set the ice cream down on the counter then shut the freezer door.
“That’s an interesting lecture.” He puts the tub of ice cream next to the one I just set down.
I shrug then hoist myself up onto the counter of the kitchen, slipping off my flip-flops and letting my legs dangle over the edge. “He watches him all the time, and he doesn’t seem to mind. Yet he informed me today that he goes out on dates whenever he can, and it made me realize he doesn’t have a lot of free time.”
Tristan relaxes back against the fridge and studies me as he folds his arms. “Do you mind if I ask you why he lives with you? Is it for his help?”
I waver, determining what to tell him, then decide to go with the truth. “Remember how I told you my mom was a druggie? Well, I always felt bad after I got married and left Jax behind to live with her. The stuff she did… and the house… It was really bad. I finally came to my senses after I divorced Conner and got him out of there. But I still feel terrible that he had to live in such a shitty place… Some of the stuff we saw”—I shudder—“it was bad.”
“I can imagine,” Tristan says, swallowing hard. “I’m sure some of my old homes were equally as bad.”
“Yeah, but you weren’t a parent,” I remind him then add, “And neither was my mom really, yet she kept having kids.”
“How many brothers and sisters do you have?”
My insides wind into tight knots as I think about the call from Taylor this morning. “I have no idea. Jax was the last one born but occasionally when my mother would get really high she’d talk about other children she had before Jax and I… not sure what happened to them though. My guess is that they’re with their fathers or were taken away.”
“Avery, that’s terrible.” He looks horrified, cut deep, like I struck a nerve.
“Yeah it is, but at one point, I wasn’t any better.” I trace my finger over the letters inked on my collarbone. “I did a lot of stupid shit and almost followed in her footsteps.”
“But you’re fine now,” he says, moving toward me.
“I do my best.” I blow out a loud, cringe-worthy breath. “But enough about me. What about you?”
He stops just inches away from me. “What about me?”
“Any brothers or sisters?”
His skin pales. “I used to have a sister.”
“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry,” I say, feeling like an idiot. “I would have never brought it up if I’d known.”