My throat crowds with emotion as I reach out to put my arms around him. It’s the first time I’ve hugged him in… I don’t even know how many years. “Thanks, Dad.”
He hugs me back, his thick arms threatening the integrity of my rib cage for a few seconds. Then it’s over. “All right, then. Let’s get these candles lit before they think we’ve run off with the cake.”
I smile, openly and without restraint. “You know what? I think I’d like a piece of cake.”
TWENTY-FIVE
______
SAM
Maybe I should go ahead and break up with myself on Tristan’s behalf. I could let him know about it after the deed is done. It might be easier on both of us. First, though, I have to make it through dessert without killing anyone.
My stomach lurches. This house is entirely the wrong place to make such a joke, even in the privacy of my own mind. I’m such an idiot.
After Tristan and Craig go inside, Ursula and I work to remove the wet tablecloth from the table, moving the glasses as we go.
“I really am sorry,” I murmur, barely able to hear myself over the clamouring inside my skull.
“It’s fine.” She tosses the cloth onto a nearby bench seat and sits back down before taking a sip of her wine. “I am glad I didn’t serve red wine though.”
I give her a wry grin. “Small mercies.”
Ursula glances at the empty doorway where her husband and son entered the house, eager for their return. She doesn’t try to make conversation and I’m tempted to follow her lead. The silence is uncomfortable, but the wrong words would be worse.
On the other hand, I’m not sure I have anything left to lose here. After the way I destroyed dinner, Tristan has to be rethinking his involvement with me. I’m not worth all this hassle, even if he were in love with me—which apparently he isn’t. It’s been almost two weeks since I first said it and, while I know he likes to hear it now, he has yet to say it back. Which means, I’ll probably never see Tristan’s mother again.
The thought prompts me to make one more attempt at connecting with her. If nothing else comes of this evening, I want her to know how much I care about her son.
“Thank you for inviting me to dinner tonight,” I begin, selecting my words carefully, hoping they’ll come out right. “Tristan and I haven’t known each other all that long, but it’s nice to be included in his birthday.”
“You’re welcome, Sam.” She shifts subtly, her body turning a fraction towards mine. “It’s nice to have you here. It’s been a long time since Tristan brought someone home to meet us.”
I wish the event had half the gravitas she seems to think it does. But I’m well aware I’m only here at her husband’s insistence. If Tristan felt he had a choice in the matter, I’m not sure he ever would have brought me here.
“What about your family?” Ursula asks. “Are they in Brisbane?”
My gaze drops to the table as I shake my head. “My mother passed away a couple of years ago,” I tell her. “I have no other family to speak of.”
“My condolences,” she says with an expression of solemn understanding. “Were you close?”
I nod slowly. “I miss her very much.” Tears prick the back of my eyes and I blink in surprise. It’s been ages since I cried actual tears over the loss. I don’t know why such a reaction would creep up on me now. Maybe it’s being in the presence of a mother again, even if she’s not mine.
“It never quite stops hurting, does it?” she says. “Missing the ones we’ve lost.” There’s a world of pain lurking in the rich brown of Ursula’s eyes as she looks at me. Not only grief, but guilt, too. Like Tristan.
“Never quite,” I say, gently. After a brief pause, I go on. “Tristan told me about your daughter, Claire. I’m so sorry for your loss.” I hope I’m not doing the wrong thing, using Claire’s name. She’s such a big presence here, with these people. Somehow, ignoring her would seem like an insult. “It was hard when my mum died. But I know it would have been much harder for her to have lost me.”
“That’s true,” she agrees, before her expression turns to one of wary curiosity. “What did Tristan tell you… about Claire?”
“Everything,” I assure her in a quiet voice.
Her eyebrows lift. “Goodness. That’s a lot of trust.” She sits up straighter, resting her elbows on the table as she leans forward. “He must really like you.”
I can’t help the wide smile that breaks out on my face. The sight of it prompts a short laugh from Ursula and I duck my head in embarrassment. “I’d like to think so.” We sit in silence for a little while. It’s more comfortable this time. “I’m glad to have had the opportunity to get to know Tris. He’s an amazing person.”
Ursula gasps in surprise. “Tris,” she whispers. “We used to call him that, when he was young.” She smiles and there are fewer shadows this time. “It was all Claire could say when she started to talk and it stuck, I suppose. We haven’t used it since…” The smile dies and she looks away as realisation dawns.
Since Claire died.I’m sure those are the words she doesn’t want to say.
