14. Troy
August, Present Day
Maple Ridge
I parkmy truck in Jess’s driveway. Nova is passed out in her car seat after the fun we had at the beach. The wind has picked up with the storm rapidly approaching.
“You gonna be okay?” I ask Jess.
She smiles, a teasing spark in her eyes visible in the dim light of the cab. “It’s just a storm. I think I can weather it.”
She leans over the console and kisses me. I make the most of it and capture her mouth, not letting her get away with only a quick peck on my cheek or my lips.
I’m not even halfway satisfied when we pull apart. I could keep on kissing her. And I will once I’ve dropped Nova off at her home.
Jess glances behind me at the sleeping little girl. “You two are adorable together. She loves you.” Jess’s voice catches, and she smiles. It’s not one of her full smiles, but it’s breathtaking all the same.
“I love her too. She’s a sweet kid. It kills me that she doesn’t remember her father.” I took that from Nova when I couldn’t help him. I should have pressed harder for Colt to get help, should have pushed for him to see that real men can go to therapy.
Jess threads her fingers with mine. “That’s not your fault, Troy. What you can do is make sure she continues to feel loved. And when she’s older, you can tell her all about her father.” Jess gently squeezes my fingers, a slight tremor in her touch. “I bet you’ve got tons of funny stories about your time growing up together.”
I nod. Do I ever. “I’m sure if Colton were alive, he wouldn’t want Nova to hear many of them. They’re funny as fuck. Hell, Olivia probably wouldn’t want her to hear them since Olivia was involved in many of the escapades. There’s a reason the three of us earned the nickname The Three Musketeers.”
“Those…those are the best kind of stories. Especially when she’s older. They’ll help keep his memory alive. That, and continuing what you’re doing. Spend a lot of time with her.” Jess releases my hand. “You should probably get her back to her mom.”
“I’ll be right over after I drop her off.” I kiss Jess, taking a little longer than I should, knowing I’ll have a hard time leaving if I don’t go now.
Jess pulls away, gives me a quick smile, and climbs out of the truck. She and Bailey walk along the pathway to the front door. Jess unlocks it, and they go into the house. The porch light flashes on and off, Jess’s signal that she has reactivated the security alarm.
I reverse out of the driveway and drive to Olivia’s house. Thickening storm clouds darken the sky. I arrive to find the living room light on, a glowing strip peeking between closed curtains. I parallel park on the street and let Butterscotch out of the truck.
“Hey, little princess,” I say to Nova. Her eyes remain shut. “We’re home.” She looks so sweet and peaceful. I hate to wake her up.
I unbuckle her seat belt and slide her arm through the harness. Nova blinks her eyes open. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
She was holding her stuffed bunny when I put her in the car seat. Now, it’s half dangling off the seat. I hand it to her.
She grabs her bunny in one hand and stretches her arms to me. I scoop her up, and her arms automatically go around my neck in a hug, her bunny dangling down my back.
Nova rests her cheek on my shoulder. She smells sweet, like fruit and the mountains rolled up in a pint-sized package. I kiss the top of her head, her warm body held snuggly against my chest.
Butterscotch and I make our way along the path to the front door. I open it and step inside. “We’re back,” I call out.
Rock music comes from the kitchen, too loud for Olivia to hear me.
“Should we see if we can make your mommy jump?” It was something I used to enjoy doing when Olivia, Colton, and I were kids. I only had to walk into the room Olivia was in, say something while she was preoccupied, and she would shriek.
Nova shifts in my arms, her head moving from my shoulder, and she looks toward the kitchen. “Yes!” She giggles, but not loud enough for her mom to hear her.
“How was quilting club, Aramis?” I ask, walking into the kitchen.
Olivia is standing at the sink. A startled scream escapes her, and she practically jumps to the ceiling.
She whirls around and clutches her wet hand to her chest, leaving a damp print on her T-shirt. “Fire truck you, Athos.” She laughs and grins at her daughter. “Hey, sweetheart. How was the beach?”
“Fun!” Nova exclaims, her squealed voice filling the room. Her arms go up as if she’s showing us just how much fun she had.
Olivia grabs a tea towel and dries her hands as she closes the distance between us. “Did you have fun with Uncle Troy?”
“Yes!”
“I bet you’re covered with sand.” Olivia pokes her in the tummy, and we’re rewarded with a giggle. “Should we give you a bath before dinner?”
“Yes!”
“You want Uncle Troy to help?” Olivia asks.
“Yes!” Nova points to Butterscotch. “And doggy!”
Olivia kisses her daughter on the forehead. “I hope you’re not expecting him to join you in the bathtub. How ’bout he watches from the sidelines?”
I doubt Butterscotch would complain about joining Nova in the bath, but the room would be a disaster by the time those two were finished.
We head to the bathroom. While Olivia fills the tub with water, I send Jess a quick text.
Me: I’m helping to give Nova a bath first and then I’ll be over.
“So how was quilting club?” I inquire again since Olivia never answered the question earlier.
“It was good. But since it’s summer, only a few people were there. We discussed possible themes for this year’s charity Christmas quilts.”
“What charity are you supporting this time?”
“We haven’t decided yet. The final decision will be made in the fall, once all the members are back from their vacations.”
“Well, you know my mom will be bidding on yours.” I lower Nova to the floor.
“That’s because your mom’s super sweet. Or a super-competitive bidder.”
“Mom happens to love your quilts.” I check the water temperature and dump several of Nova’s bath toys into the tub.
Olivia removes Nova’s clothes. “I swear you’ve got a beach-full of sand in your hair. It’s a good thing its hair-washing night.” She lifts her up and lowers her into the tub.
Nova sits and splashes the water, sending it everywhere. Warm droplets soak through my T-shirt.
I sit on the closed toilet seat since there’s not a lot of room in here. Olivia suds up Nova’s hair, making funny shapes with it, even though Nova can’t see them. We laugh at them. She giggles and splashes.
Butterscotch props his paws on the rim of the tub and barks. That only makes Nova giggle harder and makes it more difficult for Olivia to wash her squirming daughter.
I chuckle, the deep sound echoing off the bathroom tiles. Being with Olivia and Nova like this helps dull the pain I often feel at the loss of my best friend. It’s like he’s here in the room, smiling at us, much like he would’ve been smiling at Olivia and Nova if he were alive and helping Olivia clean their daughter.
I take one of her colorful rubber fish and push it through the water like a boat while making goofy noises. Nova laughs so hard, she almost slips under the water.
My chest aches at how much I enjoy moments like this—with a little kid around. Moments I might never have with Jess.
Once Nova is clean and rinsed off, Olivia dries her and dresses her in her pj’s.
“You want to join us for dinner?” Olivia asks me as I carry Nova downstairs. A loud noise crackles the air outside as lightning splits open the sky. Nova covers her ears. Butterscotch whimpers.
“Sorry, I can’t. Jess is expecting me.”
Olivia winces, and her lips press into a flat line for a fraction of a second. “You really want to go out in that?” She jerks her head toward the front door. “It sounds pretty bad out there.”
The wind is howling something fierce, and I don’t have to check out the window to know the rain is coming down in diagonal sheets. Butterscotch won’t be too impressed if he has to go outside.
But I also have no intention of standing up my girlfriend because of a little rain.
“I’ll be fine.” I have Jess’s warm body to look forward to. And her kisses will definitely heat me up.
I kiss Nova on the top of her head. “Bye, little princess. I had fun at the beach. Be good for your mommy, and I’ll see you soon.” I wave at her.
She waves back, flashing me her toothy grin. “Bye-bye, Troy.”
I crouch and hoist Butterscotch into my arms. “Don’t worry,” I tell him. “You’ll be okay. I’ll dry you once we get to Jess’s.” He peers at me with remorseful round eyes, no doubt telling me he wouldn’t be getting wet if I’d left him at her house when we dropped her and Bailey off.
Usually, rain doesn’t bother him. It’s the combination of rain with thunder and lightning and high winds he has a problem with.
“Let me get him a towel so he doesn’t have to get too wet.” Olivia rushes off to the laundry room before I have a chance to tell her not to worry about it, her daughter in her arms.
Butterscotch flashes me a look that implores, At least she gets it.
Olivia and Nova return with Nova’s Eeyore hooded towel. I put it on Butterscotch, the hood covering his head. He barks as if to say, “Thank you,” and the action makes it appear as if Eeyore nods.
Nova bursts out giggling.
“You look adorable, Butterscotch,” Olivia says. “Eeyore always was my favorite Winnie-the-Pooh character.” She puts her hand on my arm. “Call me or text me once you get to her place, so I know you got there safely.” She seems so uncertain, worried, her eyes wide, which doesn’t make sense. I’ve driven in storms plenty of times. Colton had too, and he never got into an accident.
I kiss her on the cheek. “Don’t worry, Aramis. I’ll be fine. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll text you.”
“It would.”
As predicted, the rain is coming down diagonally and the mountain air has chilled several degrees since we arrived. Lightning streaks across the dark sky, beautiful and potentially deadly. I head for my truck. Thunder booms overhead, and Butterscotch lets out a frightened bark.
“It’s okay, little buddy,” I tell him. “We’re almost there.” I keep my arms tight around him to make sure the towel doesn’t whip off him in the wind and to reassure him he’s safe.
The rain is hitting so hard, I’m not sure the towel will be much use. I jog to the truck.
I’m drenched by the time I get there. I open the front passenger door and put Butterscotch on the seat, the towel still covering him. I close the door and jog to the driver’s side, the force of the wind fighting against me.
I get into the truck. Butterscotch is free of the towel and appearing mighty smug. He’s dry and I’m not.
But the joke’s on him, because I’m going home to the best woman in the world—even if maybe there’s a possibility we’ll never have what I just shared with Nova.