Baby Come Back(7)

“Sure, babe,” I cooed sweetly to him, tilting my head up.

He lowered his mouth to mine; his kiss was a bit more passionate than before in the office. His lips and tongue worked my mouth expertly.

(That’s right, baby. Give me some tongue in front of Sunny.)

Too soon the kiss was over. My face was flushed. Damn.

“See you at seven,” he said, as he kissed the tip of my nose.

“Yeah - seven.”

Once Tylar and I got back into her car she immediately turned to me.

“Oh my God, Gina! Sunny so wants Tristan!”

“I knew it! You did tell her that he was mine, right?”

“Actually, no.”

“What the f*ck, Tylar?”

“Aren’t you the one that said you didn’t love him anymore?”

“You know damn well that I didn’t mean that!”

“Hey, I just listened. I mean she knows that we are friends so it’s not like she’s going to come right out and blatantly tell me anything specific.”

“Then how do you know she wants Tristan?”

“All she talked about was how she loved her new job; Tristan is the best boss she’s ever had; everyone is like family here. Besides that, once you came out she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“So, what are you guys doing at seven?”

“Kind of nosey there aren’t you, girlfriend?”

“Fine, Gina. Don’t tell me.”

“We are having dinner. Period. Nothing else.”

“Okay, whatever.”



Tristan picked me up promptly at seven. I had changed into a skirt and sweater, and put the new boots I had bought earlier when Tylar and I had gone shopping.

We went to a little bistro just a few blocks away. It was quiet and intimate; a perfect place for us to talk. Once we had ordered I got right to the point.

“Tristan, I need to know how you feel about me; how you feel about this baby. I understand how what Ian told you would have been upsetting, but the fact that you accused me of trying to trap you was just pure ugly. I think I deserve an explanation.”

“You’re right. I do owe you an explanation. I’m not quite sure that I have one that will satisfy you though. It’s complicated. I’ve never shared this with my family - with anyone.”

“I’m listening.”

“There was a girl, a woman, that I had a long term relationship with in California. Her name was Tara. I had met her one weekend when I went to San Francisco on business. She worked for one of the major wine brokers and I was immediately attracted to her.

“Tara?” I asked.

“Yes. Tara Samuels. She was five years younger than me. She was smart, funny and beautiful. Tylar reminds me of her a bit; I suppose that was why I was so taken with Tylar when we first met. She reminded me of Tara. I even brought Tara back east with me several times over the years that we were together. Mom was fond of her; Tara loved my family and she loved me. We were engaged to be married. We lived together for about two years at my home in Sonoma. Her family lived in the Portland, Oregon area. That was where she had been born and raised.”

The conversation stopped as the waiter brought our food to us. Tristan refilled his wine glass, taking a sip before he continued.

“The whole time that Tara and I were together, she never once invited me to accompany her when she would fly home to visit her family. She would use excuses such as I probably wouldn’t get on with her parents; or she knew it was the busy season at the winery, or that she needed some alone time. It wasn’t as if she went that often, so I never pressed the issue with her.”

Tristan motioned for me to start eating while he continued.

“After we became engaged she made a trip to Portland. I had decided that enough was enough. I was going to marry her and I needed to get her family’s approval. That is how I felt about it. I didn’t care what kind of family she came from, I wanted to meet them. I wanted them to meet me.”

Tristan stopped for a moment to collect his thoughts. I was trying like hell to figure out where the story was going.

“I rearranged my schedule unbeknownst to her. I decided to take a later flight and surprise her that weekend. I figured she would be pleased that I had taken the initiative to finally meet her family. I was determined that no matter what her parents were like, I could tolerate anything for her. I loved her so much. I had written down their address from a credit card statement of hers I had found in the trash. She still had their address listed on her credit card statements. It didn’t matter since she paid everything on line, but she always printed the statements out to verify the charges since she traveled a lot in her job as a broker and had to keep track of business expenses.”

Once again the conversation was interrupted when the waiter came over to see if we needed anything else.

“When I got to the address listed on the credit card statement, the door was answered by an older gentleman in a wheel chair. The house was fairly nice on several acres of land just outside of Portland, Oregon. I naturally presumed the man was her father, though she had never mentioned that he was confined to a wheelchair. I introduced myself, explaining that I was there to surprise his daughter - my fiancée. The surprise was on me when I learned the man had no sons or daughters; he had a wife named Tara.”