Accidental Tryst (Charleston #1)(28)

The continuous rain made the already dilapidated neighborhood seem that much more abandoned. Unlike the busy hustle of the city, where New Yorkers merely continued their day under an umbrella, the streets around David's nursing home were deserted. I'd planned on starting the day with a walk down to the water and a search for a coffee shop, but a peek between the buildings toward the shore showed only a misty view awaited me, so I pressed on. The coffee shop eluded me too, and by the time I arrived to see David I was soaked and irritable.

The email I'd sent last night to Trystan weighed on me. I felt vulnerable, like I'd exposed a part of myself to him and been left wanting. It was preposterous to even let it bother me. He was a stranger. And in a few days, after we had traded back phones, he would continue to be a stranger. After I'd sent the email, I'd gone through his photos. He wasn't a manic picture taker like me, but what I found fit with what I knew about him. He was a kind, beautiful man, with a tendency toward periodic assholery. There weren't any pictures of him with anyone who could possibly be categorized as family. None of him with any women. Nor men, though I thought I'd pretty much assured myself he was straight. And definitely not one of him with a dog. Every now and again, he'd capture a scene from the city—the leaves in Central Park, a bridge at sunset. He took pictures of art. Perhaps he was a collector and took pictures of things he liked on occasion to remember them. And the bulk of the pictures were of documents. If he was like me, I used an app where you could send faxes from picture files. I often sent our service agreements and contracts this way to clients. There were also several pictures of him with a younger dark-skinned boy, pictures of that boy playing basketball, hanging out, and receiving a diploma. I'd studied the picture of Trystan and the kid as I fell asleep, thinking I made out the sign for the Boys and Girls Club of America behind them. It made sense that my handsome stranger would do something as awesome as have a Little Brother. There weren't many people I knew who'd give their time to a cause like that. But then another notification from one of his dating apps or a text would come through, and it sobered me up. I turned on the Do Not Disturb around midnight.



* * *



I greeted the nursing home staff in the downstairs office and headed to the cafeteria to see about getting coffee. David was still at his table eating breakfast. I went to the far wall and filled a Styrofoam cup with pale brown liquid and creamer then went to join him.

"Mind if I sit with you?" I asked David.

"Emmy!" he greeted me right away, and I leaned down to kiss his cheek. Inside, my tense stomach relaxed to know that at least I had my David back today.

D'Andre saw me drinking the coffee. "Baby girl, you can't drink that. Give it to me."

I raised an eyebrow and handed him my cup.

"You know we don't fully charge the coffee down here. Be right back."

It hadn't occurred to me that they didn't give their patients real caffeinated coffee, but it made sense. Caffeine was a drug, and with all the prescriptions going around in here, I should have thought about it. Sure enough, the coffee D'Andre brought me, in a real mug was heavenly. "Thank you," I said gratefully.

David and I chatted about everything and nothing, the old days and my new memories in Charleston. I explained his medical condition to him while he was lucid enough to understand as I'd done several times before. And as before, it made us both cry. But I'd been advised that it was important for him to understand as much as possible why he was in a home, so there was less chance of him trying to get out. We played cards, and then I walked him back to his room for a rest before lunch.

As always happened when I spent time with David, I was left feeling both full of love and emotionally drained.

I needed to go and clear my head in order to be back with him in the afternoon. Pulling Trystan's phone out of my purse, I ignored all the missed calls and messages and opened the web browser to find somewhere to eat lunch. I was under no impression that I'd be hearing from him today unless he needed some information off his phone, so I was taken by surprise when a text from Suit Monkey popped up at the top of the screen. Having absolutely no will power, I opened it immediately.



* * *



Suit Monkey: Breakfast was great. Lunch?



* * *



So he'd taken my recommendation for breakfast, that gave me a small modicum of satisfaction. Actually, it made me insanely happy, which was clearly an indication of how depressed I was about the situation with David. I'd seen an email last night from someone called Isabel Montgomery and something about it rubbed me the wrong way. The fact she assumed he'd have breakfast with her, I guess. Or her tone. She made mention of Trystan's mother so carelessly in the email, that even without knowing him, I wanted to protect him. Was his mother even in his life? I had no idea. I was operating on pure gut-level instinct. So I'd offered up the breakfast suggestion, letting him in on one of my best kept secrets, my most favorite place. A place that happened to be almost next door to my little carriage house. It felt like inviting him into my world. Would he even appreciate it?

But then his text had come, and it all felt okay again. As if I'd done the right thing. So I gave him my next favorite place. 5Church. With his appreciation for art, I was sure its uniqueness would appeal to him. Especially at lunch. As beautiful as it was in the evening, the daylight coming through the window was a sight to behold.