Chapter 16
TRIPP
Tripp was at Coach’s place the next afternoon, trying and failing to keep his mind off Jillian while he ripped up carpet in the living room.
The bathroom above was finally put back together, and he knew that theoretically he could just repair the ceiling and move on. But he had a feeling that there was water damage to the carpet and the wood flooring beneath too. And he wasn’t doing this job halfway.
It wasn’t just because of Coach and Mrs. Johnson. Jillian and the girls lived here now as well. And he couldn’t stand the idea of any of them living in a house where things weren’t as safe and sound as he could make them.
You’re falling too fast, too hard, a little voice in the back of his head warned him. She agreed to date you, not to marry you.
And that much was true. She hadn’t agreed to marry him yet. He’d have to wait a while for that, and give her time to get used to the idea of having him around every day.
But he was feeling more hopeful than ever.
That big fancy date they’d gone on had wound up being one of the most relaxed and enjoyable evenings of his life.
Maybe it was destiny that had brought her home to him, and destiny that had held them apart long enough for her to have her girls, and for him to grow up and mellow out.
The sound of the school bus pulling up put a smile on his face. As Mrs. Johnson headed down the hallway to the front door, he set aside his tools and washed his hands in the powder room sink.
“…and we picked tomatoes,” Posey was saying happily as he came out.
“That’s wonderful,” Mrs. Johnson told her.
“Hi, Tripp,” Mari said with a big smile. “Are you fixing the house?”
“I sure am,” he told her. “And I found pretty oak floors under your great-grandma’s carpet today.”
“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Johnson said. “I always did want to pull up that carpet and finish those floors.”
“Well, that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” Tripp told her. “And then I’ll take you into Burlington and you can choose a nice area rug instead.”
“Oh, we don’t need all that, sweetheart,” she said, patting his arm.
She was clearly worried about money, but didn’t want to say so.
“It will be my treat,” he told her. “After all, I came in here with muddy boots enough times in high school to contribute.”
“We couldn’t let you do that,” she said, shaking her head.
“Maybe Jillian can help me choose one,” he suggested.
“That’s a nice idea,” she said, instantly placated by the idea of him spending time with her granddaughter.
A wash of warmth went through his chest. Whatever the rest of the world might think, the Johnsons, who knew the real Tripp, were rooting for him.
“We’re going to make a snack,” Mari told him. “Do you want some?”
“Of course,” he told her.
“But you don’t even know what it is,” Posey laughed.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said, winking. “If you guys make it, I know it’ll be good. Plus, I’m an excellent eater. My mother always said so.”
Mrs. Johnson laughed out loud as the girls trailed her into the kitchen.
He watched after them for a moment before heading back to the living room to attack the carpet a bit more.
He had just gotten up the padding and was pulling up the tack strip with the claw of his hammer when the front door opened again.
“Oh, wow,” Jillian’s voice said softly.
“Hey,” he said, setting down the hammer and turning to her. “I thought I’d pull up the carpet to check on the flooring under the leak. Turns out, your grandparents have nice oak floors in here.”
“You’re really leaving no stone unturned,” Jillian said, shaking her head.
Something was off with her, and he couldn’t place it.
He straightened up and moved closer, trying to read it in her eyes. But her gaze was focused on the floors, the ceiling, anywhere but Tripp.
“How was your day?” he asked gently, hoping that whatever was going on, she would feel better once she told him.
“Oh,” she said, finally meeting his eyes. “It was good. Um, the principal asked me for a favor.”
“Oh yeah?” Tripp asked.
“One of the parent chaperones for the Winter Formal dropped out,” she said. “And I’m going to take their place.”
“Wow,” Tripp said. “It must be weird to think about going as a chaperone.”
“I can bring a plus-one,” she said awkwardly, her eyes back on the floor.
That was all?
Relief flowed into Tripp’s chest, and he did his best to hide his smile.
“I see,” he said.
“Mama, Mama, Mama,” Posey yelled, running down the hallway and wrapping her arms around her mother. “We picked tomatoes in the greenhouse today.”
“Incredible,” Jillian said, turning her attention to her daughter.
All Tripp wanted to do was ask her to take him to that dance. But he was determined to do it the right way this time.
Jillian headed to the kitchen with Posey to greet Mari and her grandparents.
Tripp kept working on the living room floor, his mind swirling with so many ideas that he was grateful to have something to do with his hands and his energy.
He might have a million ideas about asking Jillian to make him her date. But there was only one that would show Jillian he had listened and that he cared. And it required keeping his fool mouth shut until he could get her alone.
He managed to focus on the living room until the oak floor was completely exposed and the pieces of carpet and padding were tied up neatly and stowed in the back of his truck for disposal.
He didn’t say one word through washing up and enjoying apples with peanut butter for a snack with the girls.
And he didn’t throw himself at Jillian’s feet during the nice cup of tea and chat with her and her grandparents after the girls ran off to play before homework time.
Instead, he managed to bide his time enjoying their company, drinking two cups of Earl Gray, and eating half the box of graham crackers Mrs. Johnson put out—he was pretty sure just for him.
It wasn’t until he was getting ready to head home that he asked Jillian if she would like to walk him out to his truck.
“Oh, um, yes,” she said, looking a little flustered. But the pink in her cheeks told him she was pleased.
He opened the front door for her and offered her his hand as they headed down the steps.
She took it, and he felt such a surge of happiness at the feel of her soft hand in his again that he almost forgot why he wanted to talk to her.
But when they reached his truck, he came to his senses and grabbed her other hand.
Her green eyes rose to his and she waited with her lips slightly parted, like she was wondering if he was going to talk to her or kiss her.
By heaven’s sweet angels, all he wanted was to pull her into his arms, drink in her peppermint scent, and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.
But he was going to do everything the right way.
“Jillian,” he said softly. “I know you could choose any man you wanted. But if you would allow me to accompany you to the Winter Formal, it would be my honor.”
Her eyes lit up, and dimples appeared on her cheeks, making Tripp feel like he’d won the lottery before she even said anything.
“I would love that,” she replied softly.
In his mind, Tripp jumped in the air, threw his head back, and howled like a wolf while he pumped his fist. But he knew that kind of behavior might scare Jillian off, so he forced himself to remain calm on the outside.
“Thank you,” he told her gently. “I can’t wait to go with you.”
By the way she smiled up at him, he knew she couldn’t either.
I can’t believe this is even possible, he thought to himself. What did I ever do to earn such a beautiful second chance?