She helped out in the babies and toddler room during both first and second service at church and also stayed after for a meeting to finish final plans for the church’s annual fall festival in a few weeks. It was always a lot of fun. The kids loved it.
“Hey, girl,” Renee said and looped her arm through hers. “Got any plans later?”
“No, just staying in. I need to get a jump on this project.”
“Boring,” she commented with a sly grin. “Why don’t we go out and get your phone back from that hot soldier?”
Yesterday Avery had gone to Renee’s apartment in the next town over and had hung out for a while. Then they’d gone to town for coffees and pastries and spoiled their dinner appetites. After, they stopped in at the country western bar and asked if they’d seen her phone, to which the bartender with all the piercings and tattoos had told her that she’d given it to her boyfriend, which she figured out through some questioning that she meant Tristan.
“No,” she said. “I-I think I’m just gonna buy a new one.”
“What?” Renee asked loudly and started laughing. “You are such a chickenshit!”
“Renee!” she scolded and led her more quickly toward their cars near the back of the church lot. “Good grief. We’re on church property.”
“So? God knows me. I ain’t perfect. I’m no sinner, but I’m not an angel, either.” She paused to laugh loudly. “He knows. He made me this way.”
Avery laughed. Her friend always came up with funny things like that to atone for doing something bad like swearing. It was hard to believe she was also homeschooled. Even more surprising was the fact they were best friends.
“I don’t want to go out there and track him down and make a big deal out of getting my phone back.”
“But…”
“No!” she said more firmly and toyed with her car keys. “Besides, stuff…happened. I don’t think I can face him.”
“Oooh, like what kind of stuff?” she jacked her eyebrows up twice to insinuate something naughty. “Spill the tea, girl.”
“What? No, there’s nothing to tell. And it’s nothing like that,” she stated vehemently. “Get your mind outta’ the gutter. Geesh.”
“Oh,” she said with disappointment. “Too bad. He’s hot. That’s a waste of that bod. He’s like mega hot. Bet he has nice abs.”
“Not my type. Like, at all,” she firmly stated.
“Ave, babe, he’s any woman’s type,” she corrected as if it were a fact. “I’m gonna order an ultrasound on you to make sure you have ovaries.”
Avery just rolled her eyes and wrinkled her nose to further her point. “Anyway, Dad’s leaving tomorrow afternoon for Hungary…”
“Hungary? What the heck for? He’s always going.”
“Giving a lecture to a university in Budapest.”
Renee bobbed her head a few times. “I don’t know how your parents do it. They never see each other. How the hell’d they have so many kids? Guess it was quite the reuniting when they did see each other, huh?”
She elbowed Avery, who blushed and told her to shut up about her parents and sex. “Ew! Never discuss that again, thank you.”
Renee laughed, an ornery sound.
“Anyway, they’re taking the kids out for a big dinner and a movie. Something animated. I figured it’d be a good time to stay in and get some work done. Besides, I’m still kind of sore.”
“Aw,” her friend sympathized and touched her arm gently. “Poor Ave. That sucks. I ever see that weirdo lunatic in the street, I’m running his ass over.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“Take a bath with some Epsom salts. That’ll help a lot. And wine. Lots of wine.”
She laughed again, and Avery grinned.
“Take care, babe,” she said. “I’m outta’ here.”
“Hey, why did you want to know if I had plans? Are you guys going out again?”
“Yeah, I am with Sheba. We’re meeting a few of those Army studs for dinner in the city.”
The city meant not their town. It meant Canton or somewhere bigger.
“Ooh-la-la,” she joked. “Hey, wait a minute. I was gonna be third wheeling it? Renee!”
“I would’ve told them to scrounge up one more of their friends. I’m not totally insensitive to your plight.”
“My plight?”
“Your lady business and its lack of attention,” she said with a wicked grin, pointing to Avery’s nether regions.
“Renee! Gosh!”
Her friend only laughed loudly and kissed her cheek. “Okay, girl. You go home to your computer and your art pencils or whatever you do up there. But take a bath. Maybe get a little drunk. Alcohol has some magically medicinal pain-numbing abilities.”
“Okay, hippie chick,” she said and affectionately kissed her friend’s cheek.
“And maybe drunk dial that hot soldier,” she added.
She waved to her as she got into her little red sporty car. Then Avery got in her own vehicle and drove home.
She helped her mother and sisters bake homemade chocolate chip cookies for the soldiers on the base. Her mother insisted she pack a separate container just for Tristan, which she did. She had every intention of faking some sort of physical ailment- a cold, a sore throat, bad migraine, the plague or anything tomorrow to get out of having to drive out to the base to deliver them. However, her mother stated earlier that she had a full patient schedule tomorrow on her plate, coupled with helping the children with schoolwork when she was done. Avery started feeling that very unwelcomed emotion called guilt settling over her.
They all left around five-thirty for the city to eat at their favorite Italian mom-and-pop restaurant, Luigi’s, and then on to a seven-forty-five movie time at the huge cineplex located at The Strip, a massive shopping area in Canton, the more expensive and exclusive section called Jackson Township. Avery wouldn’t trade her apartment above the garage for the finest mansion up there, not even on one of the golf courses.
She took her friend’s advice and drew a hot bath with Epsom salts to soothe her aching muscles and sore ribs. Soaking and listening to classical music sans the wine was a lot more relaxing than she would’ve guessed. Paired with the novel she was currently reading about an artist living on Nantucket who fell in love with a mysterious drifter, she just about nodded off she was so relaxed. Just as she was stepping out, a knock on the door downstairs startled her. She stood in silent anticipation a moment. Then the knocking came again.
“Crap!” she told the empty bathroom and pulled her pastel blue satin robe around herself. Her hair was knotted on top of her head.
Avery rushed down the hall, half thinking she shouldn’t answer the door, and the other half of her brain wondering if it was a neighbor or something was wrong. She didn’t know why someone would come to the back of the garage and knock instead of going to the house. She hesitated a moment before opening the door. When she did, she gasped with surprise.
“Hey, oh, is this a bad time?” Tristan asked in the dim lighting that illuminated the pathway and was built into the deck system above him. She pulled her robe more tightly closed.
“What are-what are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry. I just thought…I should’ve called first…oh, wait, yeah, that’s why I came,” he stammered, which for Tristan, looked like it was a first time ever.
Avery realized it was raining and he was wet, his hair dripping. She was being rude. Her mother did not tolerate rudeness, so her years of training in etiquette and good manners kicked in.
“Would you like to come in and get dried off?”
“Uh…sure,” he said and stepped past her as she backed up. “I just brought your phone.”
“You did? Oh, that’s great,” she remarked and led the way up to her apartment. “Come inside. I’ll get you a towel. The weather’s been horrible all weekend.”
Why was she discussing the weather? She was starting to feel like an inexperienced ninny. That wasn’t far from the truth.
Avery rushed back to the bathroom and brought him out a towel. “I’m just going to get dressed. Give me a minute.”
“Sure, no problem,” he said with a nod, taking the towel from her. “Thanks.”
She looked at the floor and skirted his large form in her hallway to slip away to the bedroom where she shut the door and locked it. Then Avery pulled on underclothes, a cream-colored thin knit turtleneck, matching cable knit fisherman’s cardigan and gray slacks. Gray wool socks were last. It was chilly tonight, and although she hadn’t washed her hair, it was still damp in places. When she went back to the hall, he was gone. She found him in the living room looking out over the property.
“Would you like something to drink? A coffee or hot tea?” she offered. He did bring her back her phone, after all.
“Uh…I just stopped to drop that,” he said, shoving his hands into the deep front pockets of his baggy jeans, and nodding to her phone on the counter. “I didn’t mean to come in and stay.”
“You can wait out this weather for a few minutes if you like,” she suggested since it was now thundering and throwing brilliant flashes of lightning across the land.
Tristan looked like he wanted to bolt. “I stopped at the bar yesterday.”
Okay, so he was staying? She wasn’t sure. She’d never even had a man in her apartment. Other than her many brothers, of course. She went into the kitchen and set her coffee maker to brew enough for two mugs of coffee.
“I did, too,” she said.
“You did?” he asked, coming into the kitchen space with her as she set out cream and the small sugar dispenser for their coffees.
“Yes, I went there to see if they had my phone,” she told him. “The bartender said she gave it to you already.”
“Oh, then I guess it’s a good thing I wasn’t planning on keeping it,” he joked.
She shrugged nervously. What was it about him that made her so wary? Every warning signal in her body triggered when he was around. He hadn’t done anything to warrant such a response, though. In fact, he’d come to her aid, had taken her all the way to the city to a hospital, then had driven her home. Then he’d got her phone back for her, and instead of scrolling through her contacts to tell one of her friends to come and get it, here he was in her apartment hand delivering it. She was starting to feel a little guilty for her hesitancy around him.
“Thank you so much for returning it to me,” she remarked as the coffee machine began percolating. Then she heard the first notes of Chopin’s Nocturne Number Nine coming over the sound system, which was built into every room and had controls to turn it down or section it off to just certain rooms. When she was home alone, which was basically all the time, she let it fill the whole apartment with sound. “Oh, gosh. Let me turn that off.”
“No, it’s cool,” he said.
“Are you sure?” Avery asked and touched the screen on the wall to lower the decibel. He nodded. She watched, fascinated at his comfort level as he took down two white mugs from the glass front cabinet over the coffee machine. She slowly approached him again.
“How do you take yours?” he asked. “No, let me guess.”
“Okay,” she agreed with a crooked grin.
“Cream and sugar, extra sugar, extra cream,” he said with a tilted head and a smirk.
Avery frowned. “Yes.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
What did that mean? She hated admitting she took her coffee that way. It seemed like he was mocking her. He just nodded and added both ingredients to her mug. Then he poured coffee into both mugs from the carafe and handed hers to her. She accepted it but wished she hadn’t made it at all. “Thank you.”
He strolled casually toward the wall of glass again and looked out. “You like living here? On your parents’ property?”
“Um, yes, very much,” she said.
“Don’t want to move away, get a place somewhere on your own?”
Another insult. “No, why would I? I have a place of my own. This allows me to save most of the money I earn, too. In a few years, I’ll be able to buy a home for cash.”
“This is awfully big for one person,” he gestured around.
“It was an unused space before, just storage,” she explained, not sure why she was doing so. “My father loves architecture. I was ready to move out, start my career…”
“Your career? You’re nineteen. Shouldn’t you just be in college, going to frat parties, getting drunk and dating boys on the lacrosse team and all that?”
She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “No, I’m not really into that scene.”
“How do you know?”
Her feathers were feeling ruffled. “Because I’m just not. Besides, I did go to college.”
“Didn’t like it?”
“No, I did. I took online courses for almost three years. I didn’t feel I needed a full degree. I took what I needed to work in the field I enjoy.”
“And what field is that?”
“Graphic design,” she answered and got a confused look from him. “I design websites or redesign them. I use original designs that can’t be mimicked. I work on ad campaigns, too, but those aren’t quite as interesting most of the time. I like visual art, challenging the perspectives and perceptions people have on the traditional. I use a lot of my own photography, photos I’ve taken and copyrighted.”
“You like photography,” he stated more than questioned, which was a strange way of putting it.
“Yes, very much so,” she admitted.
“Are you one of those people who likes taking pictures but doesn’t like having theirs taken?”
She bristled. “Maybe.”
He nodded slowly as if he were assessing her. Avery didn’t like that.
“Do you play that?” he asked, confusing her at the change of subject.
She looked behind her at her cello standing in the corner and nodded. “Yes, we all play instruments. Music is important to my family.”
She watched as he also assessed the room, turning and sipping his coffee, his eyes roaming. They returned to settle on her. Avery squirmed and cupped her hand over the back of her bare neck. Her skin was still damp under her clothing.
“No t.v.?”
“No,” she answered plainly.
“At all?”
“No, none at all. None in my parents’ home, either. They don’t believe in watching television.”
“They don’t…” he repeated with surprise in his voice and then stopped. “Hm.”
“It’s not good for your mind,” she stated, defending their choices, feeling judged again. She was used to this, people’s judgment of her family’s lifestyle choices.
“You got that right,” he agreed. “So, no t.v. means no video games, either.” She shook her head. He took a step closer. She backed up one. “Then what do you do for fun?”
He was grinning in a funny way that made Avery wonder what he meant by that.
“We go outside. My mother encourages us to spend as much time as possible outdoors. We go for hikes and…things like that.”
“What about in the winter?”
“We all read a lot, also still go outside. There’s a pond at the bottom of our property, a runoff from a stream. We ice skate on it. We sled ride on our neighbor’s farm. We still go for long walks. It’s good for the mind being outdoors.”
“I’d have to agree with that,” he said.
“Do you like going outside and doing things, too?”
“Like playing?” he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he wanted to smile. He didn’t smile, though. She didn’t remember him smiling at the bar, either. Perhaps that was why she was so leery of him. It wasn’t just that he was so dark; he was also serious all the time.
“Playing?” she croaked, her voice cracking. Why did that sound so sexual when he said it? Everything about him seemed sexual. His muscles, the tattoos, the darkness within him, the severity of his stare. “Uh…sure?”
He didn’t answer but stared up at the ceiling. “Nice beams. This place has really interesting architecture. I’ve seen stuff like this before.”
“Really? Where?” she asked, engaging in conversation again since he didn’t continue with the talk of ‘playing.’ She had a strange feeling Tristan didn’t mean some of these comments the same way she did. Her cheeks were turning pink. She could feel them heating up. Avery took a sip of her coffee to cool them. If he noticed her blushing, he’d think she was weird.
“A few places in Croatia. They use a lot of wood in their ceiling architecture, too. The old places. Most of the walls are stone, though.”
“Why were you in Croatia?”
He glanced at her but didn’t answer. Perhaps it was for a military thing he couldn’t discuss, so she let it drop.
“If you don’t watch t.v., then how do you get your news?”
He sure did jump topics a lot. She indicated the flat media screen on the wall again. It was a ten-inch touchpad that controlled the heating and cooling system as well as the sound system and lighting for the automatic bulbs. “The radio. There’s no lack of sources to obtain the news. It doesn’t just need to come from the television. Most of the news on the television is lies anyway.”
“How do you know that if you don’t watch it?”
She tilted her head to the side with irritation, “Just because I don’t watch it at home doesn’t mean I’ve never seen it. My friends all have televisions. I’ve seen the news channels. They don’t just report stories; they give their opinions, too. That’s not news. That’s trying to convince, to persuade. We’re not a jury listening to the closing statements of a trial lawyer. We just need the basic facts so that we can form our own opinions. But they don’t want that. They want to tell us what to think.”
He was quiet for a few moments, which made Avery fidget again. “I suppose that’s true. I’ve never really thought of it that way, but you’re right. I’m used to people telling me what to do and how to think.”
Outside, it thundered hard enough to rattle the windows. Lightning struck closer, illuminating the living room, which was only lit with low-level bulbs already dimmed down. She should’ve adjusted that when he came in. Avery liked the lighting dim, so she never turned the recessed lighting up all the way. Now the lightning lit the whole room with a silvery haze, which flashed across Tristan’s face. It made him seem even more sinister.
“You don’t seem like the sort of man who would allow anyone to tell him either,” she commented.
Tristan walked over closer until less than a foot of empty space stood between them. He was a lot taller than her at five-feet-five inches. He was definitely over six feet.
“No?”
Lightning struck again, which caused his blue eyes to glow momentarily. Avery looked down at her coffee, then back up at him. He was outright staring, which made her uncomfortable. A lot about Tristan made her uncomfortable. And then a floodgate of memories opened up, which caused her cheeks to burn.
“Um…about the other night,” she said and turned to walk to the kitchen sink for a respite from his stare. She dumped the remainder of her coffee and ran water in her mug. When she turned around, she ran into Tristan’s wide chest. “Oh, sorry!”
He just stepped to the side and reached around her to set his own mug in the sink. Avery backed up until her bottom bumped into the lower cupboards of the island overlooking the living area.
She started over, “The other night. I’m so sorry if I was behaving strangely or…um, I don’t know. Weird? I don’t remember much actually. I just have this strange feeling I should apologize.”
“That’s not a problem,” Tristan said and leaned back against the skirted copper sink. He crossed his arms over his chest, which made them seem even more imposing. He was wearing another t-shirt, this one white with red poppies scattered on the front and the poem “In Flanders Field” scrolled over them. She knew the WWI reference. His tattoos were on full display. Even they seemed intimidating.
“No, really,” she said nervously and toyed with her fingers in front of her. “I don’t remember what I said, but somehow I…um, well, I woke up upstairs…”
“In your teepee?” he said in a teasing tone but still did not smile.
“Yes,” she said and covered her face with both hands. Oh, geesh. This was so embarrassing. Why didn’t she just take her phone at the door and tell him thank you and send him on his way?
“I know,” he remarked.
She felt his thick fingers grip her wrists and pull them away from her face. He was close again, but this time Avery couldn’t back up. She already had the counter against her back.
“You were pretty excited to show me your teepee,” he said.
“Ohhh!” she exclaimed and covered her face again.
Again, his hands folded around her wrists and pulled them down.
“It was pretty nice,” he commented. “As far as teepees go, I assume.”
“No!” she declared with a laugh. “Stop! This is too much. I’m so embarrassed.”
“You invited me to sit in it with you,” he stated, and this time she could tell he was messing with her with factual points that were totally humiliating. She yanked free since he was still holding her wrists and smashed her hands over her eyes. “That was pretty nice of you. I’ve never been invited into anyone’s teepee before.”
“Noooo! I did? Oh, this is so embarrassing.”
“I especially liked the little twinkly lights,” he teased.
“Oh, no! Please stop talking!” she pleaded. “No more!”
She thought she heard him chuckle once. “Oh, there’s more all right.”
“No, please.” She couldn’t even look at him.
“You invited me to come back another time.”
“I did?” she asked, lowering her hands. That’s good. At least that part wasn’t embarrassing. Misleading maybe, but not rude. It showed good manners.
“To play in the woods,” he said with a smirk of self-satisfaction.
“What? No!” her hands automatically covered her face this time. He would have none of it, though. This time when she jerked free, Tristan tightened his grip.
“Hide and seek to be more specific,” he said.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, taking the Lord’s name in vain. He’d understand. This was truly the depths of humiliation.
“With the kids,” he said.
“No more, please. I beg you,” she pleaded.
He laughed. He actually threw his head back and laughed, a loud, throaty sound. He had beautiful, straight, and very bright white teeth that stood out against his dark stubble. Beautiful teeth? What in the world?
“I’m so glad my pure and utter shame amuses you,” she commented while trying to seem angry.
“It’s entertaining I must admit,” he said, sobering. “I’ve never had anyone offer to ‘play’ with me. Well, not since I was about eight.”
She attempted to slug his chest but wasn’t able to succeed because he was still holding her wrists. Tristan’s gaze became hooded as he held her wrist in his thumb and forefinger and kept it pressed against his chest. He immediately released her and stepped back.
“My humiliation could not be more thorough, I assure you,” she stated.
“Don’t do drugs,” he warned.
She scoffed, “I guess so.”
He looked around one last time, his dark gaze falling on anything but her. Then he announced, “I should go. Thanks for the coffee. Raincheck on the hide and seek offer.”
She blushed and shook her head.
“Okay, yes, I should work,” she said, feeling stupid.
She slipped on her loafers and walked him down.
“Oh, wait,” she remembered. “I have something for you. Well, for you and your friends. Um, can you follow me to the house? I’ll give it to you there.”
His heavy left eyebrow shot up inquisitively.
“It’s not a dead toad or something. I promise,” she explained, watching the barest hint of a lopsided grin form on his mouth.
“Okay, teepee girl,” he said as she retrieved an umbrella. “Lead the way.”
This was going to kill two birds with one stone. She wouldn’t have to go to the base tomorrow, and she wouldn’t have to see Tristan ever again. It was the perfect plan.