Baby Come Back (5 page)

             
The conversation stopped as the waiter brought our food to us.  Tristan refilled his wine glass, taking a sip before he continued.

             
“The whole time that Tara and I were together, she never once invited me to accompany her when she would fly home to visit her family.  She would use excuses such as I probably wouldn’t get on with her parents; or she knew it was the busy season at the winery, or that she needed some alone time.  It wasn’t as if she went that often, so I never pressed the issue with her.”

             
Tristan motioned for me to start eating while he continued.

             
“After we became engaged she made a trip to Portland.  I had decided that enough was enough.  I was going to marry her and I needed to get her family’s approval.  That is how I felt about it.  I didn’t care what kind of family she came from, I wanted to meet them.  I wanted them to meet me.”

             
Tristan stopped for a moment to collect his thoughts.  I was trying like hell to figure out where the story was going.

             
“I rearranged my schedule unbeknownst to her.  I decided to take a later flight and surprise her that weekend.  I figured she would be pleased that I had taken the initiative to finally meet her family.  I was determined that no matter what her parents were like, I could tolerate anything for her.  I loved her so much.  I had written down their address from a credit card statement of hers I had found in the trash.  She still had their address listed on her credit card statements.  It didn’t matter since she paid everything on line, but she always printed the statements out to verify the charges since she traveled a lot in her job as a broker and had to keep track of business expenses.”

             
Once again the conversation was interrupted when the waiter came over to see if we needed anything else. 

             
“When I got to the address listed on the credit card statement, the door was answered by an older gentleman in a wheel chair.  The house was fairly nice on several acres of land just outside of Portland, Oregon.  I naturally presumed the man was her father, though she had never mentioned that he was confined to a wheelchair.  I introduced myself, explaining that I was there to surprise his daughter - my fiancée.  The surprise was on me when I learned the man had no sons or daughters; he had a wife named Tara.”

              “Oh my God, Tristan,” I gasped, totally in shock.  ‘What did you do?”

             
“Naturally, I was stunned.  About that time, Tara came out into the main entry hall; I saw the immediate panic and fear in her eyes when she saw me standing on the porch.  I played it off as if I had the wrong address.  I mean I hadn’t mentioned her name or anything.  He bought the story and I left.  I flew back to California.  Two days later Tara returned to me.  She explained the situation.”

             
I knew I would probably regret asking this question, but it had to be asked.

             
“What was the situation, Tristan?”

             
“Tara had married Henry while she was still in college.  She had met him on a weekend with her college roommates skiing at Lake Tahoe.  He was more than thirty years older than she was, but his worldliness and wealth had done much to close that age gap - at least at that time.  Two years after they married, Henry suffered a ski accident and was left confined to a wheelchair for life.  He was paralyzed from the waist down which meant that well, they couldn’t have relations.”

             
I studied Tristan’s face and I could tell that what he was about to tell me didn’t sit well with him.

             
“Tara told me that she had confessed everything to Henry about us; she had spared him no details.  He told her that he loved her enough to share her if that is what it took.  He told her she had permission to continue the relationship with me for as long as she wanted; I was even welcome to stay at their house when she was home with him.”

             
(Oh God!  How creepy was that?)

             
“She had even told Henry that she loved me and that I loved her.  He told her he didn’t expect anything different.  He did make one request of her, and of me, I guess.”

             
“Which was?”

             
“He wanted us to conceive a baby together but the child would be raised as theirs.  I could still remain in the picture for as long as I wanted, even interact as an ‘uncle’ to the child, providing that I kept my silence as to who had sired the baby.”

             
I placed my hand on Tristan’s from across the table. I looked into his emerald eyes, trying to fathom how that must have tortured and perhaps even tempted him.

             
“What did you do, Tristan?”

             
He looked at me squarely in the eye.

             
“I would be lying if I told you that I didn’t consider what had been offered; I loved Tara more than I had ever loved anything in my life, at that point.  I would have loved to have had a baby with her.  It was my dream; but not like that. I could never have brought myself to participate in such a scheme.  I didn’t have it in me to be so duplicitous, no matter whose blessing I had been given; no matter how much I loved Tara.  I ended it.  It was the most painful thing that I had ever been through.”

             
“Oh God, Tristan - I am so sorry, babe.”

             
His fingers massaged mine gently; he pulled my hand to his lips and brushed it with sweet kisses, capturing my eyes with his.

             
“I need to be honest with you, Gina.  I don’t want secrets between us.”

             
(Oh God!  What is he going to confess to me?)

             
“After my split with Tara, I pretty much turned into a drunken whore dog.  I mean, I partied every night; there were women, lots of women.  Some of them were one night stands; others were more.  I loved none of them.  I used them, Gina.  I know it was wrong but you need to know how I behaved.”

             
“Okay, Tristan.  You aren’t going to tell me you’ve got some communicable disease now after we’ve been banging for months here, are you?”

             
“No, babe,” he chuckled, softly.  “There is nothing like that.  I just want to explain why I freaked after Ian came into the club that day giving me every detail of your last sexual interlude.  Telling me that you emasculated him; that you pushed him out of the marriage; that you believed he was a sterile piece of shit. When I saw the results of his test it just all came flooding back to me.”

             
“Tristan - it wasn’t the same thing,” I interrupted, looking up into his beautiful, green eyes.  “I hope you aren’t going to tell me that you’ve behaved like a whore the last few weeks.”

             
“Of course not,” he said.  My heart fluttered happily.  “I just had to think things through;  separate my feelings from those I had with Tara’s deception.  I realized that you didn’t set out to deceive me, but Gina; we need to be prepared for the chance that this baby, may in fact, be Ian’s.   What then?”

             
“I guess that’s up to you, Tristan.  I’m still the person that I was when you met me.  I think you are the one that has to decide what you can or cannot handle.”

             
“I can tell you’re getting fired up, Gina,” he replied, “It wasn’t my intention to piss you off.  I simply needed to be honest with you.  I’m just not through sorting it all out yet.  I guess that is what I needed to tell you.  I need more time, Gina.”

             
I had suddenly lost my appetite.  I wasn’t sure what I had expected when I agreed to have dinner with him, but it wasn’t this.  I had no doubts as to how I felt about Tristan; I had no doubts that the baby I carried was his.  I was getting pissed though; I knew he had every right to have reservations about continuing our relationship.

             
I pulled my hand from his abruptly.  I gathered my jacket as I stood up to leave.

             
“Don’t go, Gina.  Stay and let’s finish dinner.”

             
“I don’t think so, Tristan.  You asked for more time.  You have it.  My life doesn’t stay on hold while you take it, though.  That club is half mine.  I am returning to work.  It’s what I do.  If you can’t handle my being there then that is your problem.  Make sure you let Sunny know her schedule is changing effective tomorrow.”

             
He was standing now and started to move towards me.  I put my hand up as a sign for him to let it be.

             
“Gina wait -” he called after me.  I didn’t look back as I headed out of the restaurant.  It wasn’t until I reached the sidewalk out front that I remembered Tristan had picked me up in his car.

             
Fuck!  Now I had to traipse the four blocks back to Jo Anna’s in the freaking dark.  I’d take my chances with the perverts and street thugs before I’d go back inside and look like an idiot in front of Tristan.

             
I ignored the shout-outs and whistles I received on the way to Jo Anna’s.  She was out when I got there which was fine.  I didn’t feel like explaining my foul mood to anyone. 

             
I flounced down the on couch and took my new boots off which had pinched the hell out of my feet during the walk home.  My cell phone chimed.  It was Tylar.

             
“Hey girlfriend,” I said, trying to sound cheerful.

             
“Gina?”

             
“Uhh yes, Tylar.  That is who you called, isn’t it?”

             
“I was thinking my call would go to voice mail.  I was going to leave you a message.  You’re home already?”

             
“Apparently so,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

             
“Are you
alone
?”

             
“Right again,” I answered.

             
“So I’m getting the vibe that you would prefer not to talk about it, right?”

             
“You’re three for three, girlfriend.  What’s up?”

             
“Uh . . . well.  Never mind.  We can talk tomorrow.”

             
“Tylar, for Chrissake - you called for a reason so you think you might want to let me in on it?”

             
“I just had some good news I wanted to share with you, that’s all.  It can wait for when you’re in a better mood.”

             
“Better tell me now; this mood is going nowhere anytime soon.”

             
“I’m pregnant!  Your baby is going to have a younger cousin!”

             
“Excellent.”

             
It had been several weeks since I had started working back at the club.  Tristan hadn’t fled the scene as of yet.  I had no indication that he was looking to hire a co-manager to take his place either.  We managed to avoid each other at work during our overlapping shifts.  We continued to discuss business issues politely.  I continued watching Sunny in my peripheral vision.

             
Tristan had moved her to the restaurant which caused a lot of whiney-pooing on her part for the first couple of days.  She was now enjoying the bigger tips that came with it so the whining had stopped.  She still had googly eyes for Tristan; he appeared not to notice or if he did, failed to react.

             
Tylar had called me the previous evening.  She was going to stop by the club after her initial visit with her OB/GYN in town this afternoon.  She was tickled to death that we were pregnant at the same time.  I tried to be enthusiastic about it, but it was different for me than it was for her.  I didn’t think she got that.

             
I went into the office where Tristan was figuring payroll.  I needed to get the cash drawer for the upstairs bar out of the safe.  My baby bump was starting to show a bit.  I felt weird being around him because I knew that he had noticed.  I had caught him watching me a couple of times; he had hurriedly looked away.  I felt some comfort in knowing that at the very least, I distracted him.

             
I was surprised when I entered the office to see Sunny sitting on the corner of his desk as he was flipping through the time cards.

             
“Come on Tristan, please?  Give me one of Abby’s shifts next weekend.  I need to work more weekend doubles so that I can afford that new car.”

             
Tristan didn’t look up from what he was doing.

             
“I told you Sunny, I’m not going to arbitrarily pull shifts from another waitress because you need to buy a car that you obviously can’t afford.”