Tristan Trilogy- Story 3

CHAPTER 47

"Tristan! Come back here!"

His shouts fell on deaf ears. Tristan was already halfway up the stairs and after a second, he heard the bedroom door slam against its frame. Kevin looked upon the card she had thrown at him - the one he now held in his hands. The envelope had been postmarked Las Vegas. There wasn't much of a note - just a sarcastic comment about them becoming parents and an offer to join the upcoming tour 'for old times sake'. God, what a bitch… The card prompted Kevin's mind to drift back in time. Two years ago, he had only recognized the depth of his attachment to Tristan. One year ago, he had been forced to deal with the fact he would probably never see her again, but now, here they were - together - and Kevin couldn't imagine ever being without her again. This was an emotionally tough time of year and it hadn't helped matters for Asa and Lily to pop up out of the blue like two bad pennies.

It was more than that, though - Kevin's strained relationship with Jerald, for one thing. He had managed to bury a large part of his resentment and fear despite the fact that Jerald had not only tested Kevin's patience but his sanity. Bringing Jana into his home had been the zenith of audacity. None of the guys had referred to that situation since Thanksgiving and neither had Tristan. Then Ann had recently announced to him that Jerald and Jana were no longer together. Against his better judgement, he had asked her what had happened and against her better judgement, she had told him. It seems that Jana was more aware of the situation than she had been given credit for, although not at first - not until she had put a few pieces together. By the time she and Jerald had left Orlando, Jana was angry and hurt. Her parting words to Jerald had been 'I'd tell you to kiss my ass, Jerald, but I have a feeling that you'd rather be kissing Tristan's….'.

And now Tristan seemed depressed. Perhaps 'depressed' was too strong a word. She was just not… herself. They were both nervous about the upcoming birth and also had mixed feelings about the world tour. There was plenty for both of them to feel edgy about. Kevin needed her now and she was pulling away. His impending fatherhood had unleashed a fresh and unexpected grief over his own father's death. Kevin could no longer ignore the fact that a large part of his grief was the result of guilt.

"Tris?"

Kevin had stepped into their bedroom but he didn't see her. Their bed hadn't been touched. He turned and went into the sitting area where he discovered her curled up on one end of the sofa and staring into an unlit fireplace.

"Want me to start a fire?"

She didn't even raise her eyes. "No. Thank you…"

Kevin sighed and flopped down on the opposite end of the sofa. They were quiet for several minutes; each absorbed in their own thoughts. Finally, Kevin spoke, rubbing Tristan's foot as he searched for the right words.

"I'm sorry," he said simply. "This is probably a strange time for you and I shouldn't have gotten all pissy about the card.."

"We can't help who sends us mail, Kevin. I'm sorry, too."

"What eating at you, baby?" His voice was gentle and probing and Tristan was touched by his tender tone.

She drew a ragged breath, fighting to control her emotions. "I'm not really sure, Kevin. I think I'm afraid…"

"Of?…"

Tristan shook her head and forced a chuckle. "I don't know. I feel a little out of place, I guess. This Christmas business is still a little new to me and every part of it grabs at my heart. Does that make any sense?"

"Have I made you feel like you don't belong or something?" He sounded hurt.

"Oh no, Kevin! Never…." Tristan crawled over to him and leaned against his body, positioning herself so that her recent girth lay against his stomach and her face rested against the crook of his neck. His arm wrapped around her shoulder. "You've made this the Christmas I used to dream about." She brushed her lips against his jaw line and felt him exhale and relax.

"My family loves you, Tris…"

"I know. They're wonderful.."

"Do you want to spend some time in Virginia, then?"

Kevin felt Tristan stiffen and he regretted his assumption.

"No. Not at 'White Fences'. Maybe someday but not now."

"Okay.."

He kissed the top of her head, accepting her response with no comment. Forcing her into a discussion about this would only upset her further, something he wanted to avoid. He pulled her closer and they lay back in peace, the silence no longer a threat but a comfort. A strong kick against Kevin's ribs startled him and he jumped a little at the unexpected blow.

"Sorry..," Tristan giggled, pulling away.

"Don't. I like it," Kevin confessed, urging her back into place. "Makes me feel… Oh, I don't know…"

"Like you're pregnant?" she grinned.

Kevin looked pensive for a moment as the babies continued to move against him. "Yeah… maybe…." he nodded as he gathered his thoughts. "Are you afraid? About having the babies, I mean…"

Tristan let out a sigh. Kevin was hitting a little close to home.

"I'm afraid that I won't be a good mother. I….I don't have an example to follow, you know?"

"You'll be wonderful," he whispered, squeezing her shoulder. He laid he his head back and closed his eyes as his hand moved to her neck and he began to unconsciously stroke the length of her throat with his fingers. "I'm afraid, too, Tris. I'm afraid I won't be there when my children need me… when you need me…"

Again the room grew silent as they contemplated their individual fears as well as each other's. It was Tristan who disrupted the quiet this time. Her hand crept up under Kevin's long sleeved tee as she spoke, stopping when her fingers reached the soft hairs near his nipples. She rubbed his skin, enjoying the feel of his follicles dancing on her fingertips.

"We're beating ourselves up again…" she murmured softly, closing her eyes.

"Yeah. Why do we do that?" Kevin shifted his shoulders and shivered slightly at her gentle touch.

“Because we’re crazy?” Tristan suggested.

“Crazy in loooove….”

When Tristan pulled herself away, Kevin’s eyes flew open in surprise. He had almost been asleep.

“Where are you goin’?” he complained. “Come back here!” He patted himself on the shoulder, indicating that Tristan was to return to her ‘spot’.

Her face glowed with a touch of mischief. “I think it’s time we break in the Jacuzzi…”

*****

Tristan was already in the water when Kevin joined her. She was relaxed, her eyes closed, enjoying the vibration of the tiny bubbles that broke the surface around her shoulders. When she moved so that the jets pounded against the small of her back, Kevin heard her moan softly at the sensation.

“Starting without me?” he teased.

Kevin’s lightheartedness ceased as he watched Tristan slowly open her eyes and suggestively cock one eyebrow. Beads of moisture clung to her face and shoulders. Her hair was wet. She hadn’t bothered to pin it up and the long strands seem to float, spreading and moving on the rippling water as if they were alive. It was, however, her face that held him and made him wonder what was happening below the surface that he couldn’t see. The lights had been dimmed to near darkness but the reflection of nearby candles cast enough light for him to discern her features and expression. Tristan’s lips were parted slightly as her penetrating gaze cut him to the core. One wayward section of her hair had separated itself from the rest and now lay plastered against the tenderness of her breasts, winding down into her cleavage before disappearing into the water. He could feel himself begin to stiffen and rise.

“Do you know why women like Jacuzzis, Kevin?”

Her tongue peeked out from between her lips and caught a drop of wetness at the corner of her mouth. Kevin’s throat felt dry and any thought of playfulness suddenly became a memory. Although they were completely and utterly alone, her voice was low and he had to strain to hear her.

“Why, baby? Tell me…”

Tristan’s lips curled into a languid and knowing smile. It was a small, soft smile that Kevin was only barely aware of. Her eyes had locked onto his with such a force that he found it impossible to look away. The sexual intensity that exuded from Tristan was palatable. Kevin was as hard as he had ever been in his life and the fact that Tristan was pregnant only added to his primal arousal. She knew this and she was working it…

“Do you really want me to tell you, Kevin?” she asked as her head fell back slightly. What was she doing under there?…. “Or do you want me to show you….” She paused and one of her hands broke the surface of the water and moved to her breast. “I’ll bet you want me to show you, don’t you baby….”

Kevin felt as if he were suffocating. He couldn’t seem to pull enough air into his lungs. Once again, her violet eyes captured his, silently insisting that he answer her. All he could manage was a breathless murmur as his own hand pushed through the density of the water to his aching erection.

“Yes, Tris. Show me…”

She smiled again, knowing full well what she was doing to him and enjoying it thoroughly. Kevin’s eyes darkened as Tristan moved slowly to his side, never coming completely out of the water but raising herself enough for him to catch a glimpse of the pale pinkness of her areolas which had almost completely disappeared into the darker pink of her hardened nipples. They looked ripe and ready to be tasted and Kevin longed to feel the turgid buds between his teeth. He inched closer to the water jet that Tristan had moved to and when she turned and began to move her hips against the water pressure, Kevin’s hand began to move as well, keeping time with her motion.

Tristan’s left arm rested on the tiles that edged the whirlpool, supporting her body as she became more and more stimulated. Her right hand was nowhere to be seen. Soon, soft moans escaped her throat and she lowered her head to the slick tiles beside her arm. The side of her face pressed against the porcelain squares and she watched Kevin’s face as he watched her pleasure herself. Her teasing smile had been replaced by an expression of urgency. Her cheek began to slide a little against the wet tiles as her breaths became shallow and her eyes seem to glaze over. Then she groaned as if she were in pain. Her hand came out of the water and she clutched at his shoulder, pulling him closer so that their faces almost touched.

Kevin was trying to pace himself, to make this interlude last but when he felt her breath against his face and heard her moan his name in a soft but desperate whimper, his desire to find release inside of her overcame the intense erotica of watching her approach orgasm without him. Pure instinct drove him to mount her from behind and when he pushed himself into her heat, their combined groans echoed a perfect sexual harmony.

Tristan’s buoyancy in the water obliterated any potential awkwardness in their coalescence even though that had yet to create a problem for them. Her total lack of inhibition regarding the change in her figure stirred Kevin’s libido as it validated his manhood. He would never live long enough to have his fill of her.

He wanted to be still inside of her, to feel her silken walls do their magic on him but as the velocity of the water continued it’s relentless assault on the essence of her womanhood and she began to tighten, Kevin found restraint impossible. He pressed his mouth against the curve of her shoulder and began to suck and nip at her skin as his movement started, slowly at first - almost teasing. Sweet Jesus… His brain had already begun to spin and Tristan’s whimpers only accelerated his journey to the edge of carnal sanity. His arms wrapped around her holding her tightly against him as his hands began to knead her breasts.

“Who do you love, Tris?”

His voice was low and guttural but laced with increasing sexual frenzy. He needed to hear her say it as he pounded himself into her.

“Y…You, Kevin.. I love you…” she gasped.

She was rewarded with a groan of approval that vibrated against her neck.

“And who makes you feel good, baby? Who makes you hot and wet?” he whispered against her ear. “Who makes you cum?”

She could feel his testicles pressing against her as his thrusting stopped momentarily and he awaited her response. She began to tremble in frustration and tried to continue his rhythm by moving her body without his cooperation.

“God, Kevin! Don’t stop… please… I’m so close….”

She cried out in defeat when she felt his hands grab her hips and still her.

“Answer me…..”

“You do… you make me hot and wet! You make me cum, Kevin….Make me…”

Tristan could feel him smile into her shoulder as he reached in front of her to the dial that controlled the pressure of the jets. He turned the indicator to ‘off’ and the water was still.

“No….NO!”

Tristan was grabbing furiously for the switch until Kevin grabbed her arms and held her back.

“Shhh, Tris… Let me do it…”

He was soon rocking against her as his fingers stroked her gently and as his rocking evolved into thrusting, his fingers pressed against her harder…harder. He wouldn’t stop again. He couldn’t - not this time. Tristan was ready. He would give her what she wanted - now. He squeezed her tiny bud between his fingers and felt her body buckle as she screamed for him. He emptied immediately and fell against her back, groaning. Her vaginal contractions milked him for several seconds and he was aware of nothing except relief, joy and her pulsating heat that continued to pleasure him even after his release. The side of his face rested against her backbone and Kevin thought that he could easily drift off to sleep if he wasn't afraid he'd drown in the process.

He held her up, her back pressed against his chest and weightless in the water, as his unborn children danced against his forearm. When he opened his eyes, he could see small trails of his ejaculate moving through the water and he watched until the dense secretions were diluted and consumed by the bath. Bye-bye boys…. He smiled as the vision brought to mind stories he'd heard as a boy of women who had gotten pregnant by swimming in public pools.

Tristan moved slightly and sighed as Kevin planted a kiss between her shoulder blades and then turned her. He had a final question.

"Who do you belong to, Tris?"

His voice was neutral and flat. Tristan had to open her eyes and gauge his expression in order to adjust the tone of her response. She could see that his question was neither rhetorical nor casual and so her answer was tender but serious. She raised her arm and brushed her fingers over his cheek.

"You, Kevin. I belong to you…"

CHAPTER 48

The bell beside the front door rang just as Kevin was zipping up his jeans. Tristan was drying her hair and hadn't heard the ringing. He pushed his wet hair back with his fingers and skipped down the stairs shirtless and humming. He was caught by surprise when he pulled the door open and found not only his mother at the stoop but Tim and Megan, too, as well as his paternal grandmother. Kevin and Tristan had company…

"You don't have a shirt on!" Megan kindly pointed out. "I can see your nickles.. Were you and Aunt Tris taking another nap?" She looked up at her great grandmother, eager to share her knowledge. "Uncle Kevin and Aunt Tris take lots of naps - more than me!"

Mrs. Richardson glared at her grandson. "Is that right?" Before Kevin could stammer out an explanation she made an observation. "Your hair's wet, boy. You're gonna get sick."

"We..uh.. I mean I just got out of the ja..shower…"

"What's a jashower?" Megan asked, tugging at her father's arm.

Memaw cocked an eyebrow at Kevin and crossed her arms. She could be a tough old bird -strict and sharp tongued - and she seemed to take a great deal of pleasure out of making her grandsons squirm. Beneath the crust, however, was a tender and loving heart.

"Did we come at a bad time?" she asked, frowning. "If you got 'business' to take of, we can leave or wait. Your choice, Kevvy.."

Tim looked on with great amusement as Kevin's face took on a distinctly rosy glow. He had to walk away and cover his mouth to keep from laughing. jashower…oh, man…

"No ma'am.." Kevin answered quickly. "No business.."

He prayed for a distraction and was relieved when he heard Tristan behind him, calling from the stairs.

"Memaw! You came for your tour!"

Megan, the blossoming fashion expert, happily noted that Tristan was wearing a bathrobe. She nudged Memaw's hip.

"See?" she whispered. "I told you they were taking another nap - and it's not even eight o' clock!"

Tristan had invited Mrs. Richardson to come see their house a few days ago. No time had been specified and so the family dropped in when it was convenient for them. This type of impromptu visit was still common in pockets of the south, particularly where family was involved. Tristan glanced down at herself and laughed.

"Maybe I'd better change…"

"Nonsense!" Memaw protested. "You should be comfortable, especially in your own house." Apparently, the same didn't apply to her grandson. She cut her eyes in his direction. "Kevvy! Go put a shirt on! You've got company!"

Kevin groaned and rolled his eyes but did as he was told. Tristan began the tour. The small group followed her around, nodding appreciatively as she let Ann point out the details. They met up with Kevin in the master bedroom before he joined them for a look at the sitting room and beyond.

Memaw stared at the tiled tub that was placed in the center of the room.

"Is this the jashower?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Tristan glanced at her, puzzled, as Kevin sighed and shuffled his feet.

"It's a Jacuzzi, Memaw.. a hot tub. You know - the water moves around your muscles, kind of like a massage. You get in here to relax."

Mrs. Richarson's expression could best be described as dubious. "Relax? Is that what the young folks call it now?" she smirked. She bent down and ran her hand along the navy tiles that edged the tub. "These tiles are wet. Maybe she's sprung a leak…"

"That's what happens when kids play in the water and splash!" Megan giggled looking up at Tim. "Right, Daddy?"

Mrs. Richardson commented on Megan's observation but her eyes were fixed on Kevin.

"That's what happens when grown ups play in the water, too, sweetheart…."

The small group went back down to the living room with the intention of sitting for a few minutes but Memaw remained standing and stared at the empty tree.

"She's kinda bare, ain't she?"

Tristan laughed as she went up and stood beside Kevin's grandmother.

"We have some more shopping to do. Maybe tomorrow we can.."

"I've already gotten some things for the tree…" Kevin interrupted. "It was a surprise."

Memaw tapped her foot impatiently.

"Well, where are they? Nothin' sadder than a nekkid Christmas tree…"

They all waited as Kevin disappeared downstairs and returned with a very large box. He encouraged Tristan to open it and she let a very excited Megan help out. Tim, Ann and Memaw weren't as interested in the contents of the box as they were by the expression on Kevin's face as he watched Tristan unwrap the first decoration. Tristan stared at the glass bauble in her hand - a copper colored reindeer with a red nose. Rudolph. She recognized the ornament immediately and pressed her empty hand up to her eyes as she drew in a deep breath, guessing what other treasures the carton held.

"Oh, Kevin…" she choked.

"Merry Chistmas, baby…"

*****

The small family gathering turned into a tree trimming party. The excitement soon began to wear Tristan out, however, and she disappeared into the nursery for a few minutes to regroup. She was sitting in the rocker, listening to the sounds of laughter coming from the living room. Most of the ornaments had been hung and Kevin had placed the star. Actually, Megan had placed the star as Kevin held her on his shoulders. Now he and Tim were arguing over how the train should be put together. They refused to bother with directions. It wasn't manly.

Tristan heard a light rapping on the door before it cracked. She thought that it was probably Kevin or Ann but, to her surprise, Memaw stood at the threshold.

"You feelin' okay, Sugarplum?"

Tristan smiled at the endearment. "I'm fine. Just a little too excited I think. Come on in."

"You sure?"

Tristan waved the elderly woman into the room and she moved over to the window seat and sat.

"How's my little Kevvy doin'?" she asked bluntly. "He still grievin' over his Daddy?"

Tristan was taken aback a little at Mrs. Richardson's directness. She shouldn't have been. She's heard Kevin and other members of his family mention it many times. Memaw was not one to beat around the bush, her philosophy being that 'time was too precious to waste on preliminaries..' She gave Tristan little recourse other than to be direct in return. Tristan had a feeling that Mrs. Richardson had something to say to her - something she felt that Tristan needed to know.

"Yes.." Tristan nodded. "Holidays can be hard.."

"Don't I know it…."

"I'm sorry." Tristan whispered. "Of course you do…"

"Don't fret over me.." Memaw smiled. "Buryin' a husband is terrible but it's usually a part of a woman's life. Buryin' a child, though - no matter how old that child may be, is plain unnatural."

"Yes… You're right."

Mrs. Richardson got up from her seat, walked over to the crib and examined the mobile.

"Where in the world did you get this?" she laughed.

"A fan sent it.." Tristan grinned. "Pretty cute, huh?"

The mobile had five objects dangling from its wooden spokes - colorful stuffed dolls, each one representing a Backstreet Boy. The dolls were fairly detailed, right down to tattoos, sunglasses, jewelry and facial hair.

"It's pretty clever.." Memaw said shaking her head. She hesitated for a moment before continuing her train of thought. "I'm truly sorry that Kevvy still hurts so much. By now I had hoped he would be enjoyin' his memories. I'm afraid that his big brother did a disservice to him when he was very vulnerable…"

Tristan bent forward slightly wondering what Mrs. Richardson meant. Kevin had hinted that there was something between him and Jerald that had happened in the past. Was it connected to Jerald's death?… She remained quiet and let Kevin's grandmother continue.

"I'm gonna tell you somethin', sugar - somthin' I overheard when my son was dyin'. I never mentioned this to no one but my husband because I felt like bringin' it up would not help then. It won't help now, either, but you should know where your husband's weak spots are."

"I know that one of Kevin's weakest spots is his Daddy…" Tristan murmured.

Memaw became a little agitated. "And it shouldn't be that way! His Daddy should be one of his strongest spots, especially now that he's gonna be a daddy hisself!" She stopped for a minute and gathered her thoughts. "That's why I'm gonna tell you this. It may not be all that big a deal but I think it left a mark on Kevvy.

As you might know when Jerald found out he was sick, he didn't want Kevvy to know. There wasn't a damn thing he could do about it and Jerald was too excited and hopeful about his son's future to worry him with his illness. The rest of the family wanted to call him, but Jerald was insistent. It was important to him for Kevvy to stay in Florida. To tell you the truth, I think Kevvy's calls to him, tellin' him about his little adventures and all, kept Jerald goin' for longer than he would have if Kevvy had been in Kentucky.

Anyway, Kevvy was away but Jerald, Jr. and Tim were home - especially Jerald, Jr. Him bein' the oldest and all, I guess he felt the responsibility was on him. When my son got really sick and we didn't know when he was gonna pass, Ann finally called Kevvy home. I came over to the house to see Jerald and Kevvy. Jerald, Jr. was there tending after his Daddy while Ann went out to do some errands. I let myself in the door and heard shoutin' comin' from the kitchen. Jerald, Jr. was layin' into his brother, sayin' Kevvy was a lousy son for not bein' home…."

Tristan interrupted. "But Kevin didn't know…"

"I know, sugar, and Jerald knew, too, but I guess Jerald's nerves were shot. He hadn't had anybody to let it out on and I guess Kevvy, the prodigal son, was the likely choice. Jerald was resentful and let Kevvy know it. Told him how he had done all this stuff for his Daddy, taking care of him and all while Kevvy danced around Cinderella's castle all day. By the time Jerald got done with little Kevvy, who was in a state of shock anyway, he felt like he was the scum of the earth and would never be able to make up for what he did - or what he didn't do…"

Tristan's eyes filled as she thought back to Kevin's angry words the night that he beat up on Jerald. "I owe Jerald, but I'm not going to pay him back with my balls"… I owe Jerald….. Memaw's little story explained a lot, not only about Kevin's anger towards Jerald but his grief and guilt about his father as well.

"What should I do?" Tristan pleaded.

The old woman shook her head.

"Nothin' you can do, sugar. Like I said, no one else knows about this, not even Ann. Kevvy hung around here for almost a year after his Daddy died. He came to know that Jerald's cruel words were comin' from fear and weariness but that never stopped his guilt. When he started hittin' it big, I think it almost made it harder, like he didn't deserve it, or something - like he owed his family some sort of debt that he'd never be able to pay back.

Like I said, there's nothin' you can do, but I'm hopin' there's something that Kevvy's Daddy can do. I would have never said nothin' about any of this if Kevvy could have moved on, but the boy just can't seem to and like I said, he's gonna have to now, since he's gonna be a Daddy."

Mrs. Richardson bent down and picked up her large black purse. Tristan hadn't even noticed her bringing it in with her. She opened the clasp and brought out two objects - an envelope and a small toy.

"This little plane belonged to my Jerald.." she said, handing the tin toy over to Tristan. "He never flew too much but he really loved it. If I was a believer in that reincarnation mumbo-jumbo, I'd be willing to bet that my baby was a bird flyin' around somewhere now. Anyway, Kevvy seems to have inherited that love of the clouds from his Daddy. This was Jerald's favorite toy when he was a little boy. I found it in the attic and had this little hook put on it. Thought maybe you could hang it on your tree…."

Tristan held the tin plane up to examine it. The fuselage had a small ding in the side and a few patches of paint were missing from the underside of the wings. She couldn't help but smile even though she was too choked up to speak. This would mean the world to Kevin.

"Don't you want to give it to him yourself?" she finally managed.

"No. You do it. And give him this, too - sometime between now and when you have those babies." Memaw handed her a sealed envelope. Kevin's name had been written on the outside. "I think maybe I should've done this a long time ago. This is a letter that my son wrote to me when he was very sick. I want Kevin to have it - there's lot's of words in there about him and how his Daddy felt about him and his future…" Her voice never wavered but Tristan saw her quickly brush away a tear. "I think this might help Kevvy let his Daddy go some. He needs to do that - not forget - but remember with joy and not sadness.."

Tristan looked upon this woman with a renewed respect and admiration.

"You know, you're one hell of a woman…" she said softly.

Mrs. Richardson clicked her purse closed and patted her hair.

"Takes one to know one, sugar…. Now lets get back out there. I can hear Megan whining! I swear, Tim needs to spank her little tail once in awhile!"

Memaw whirled around and stomped out of the door. She had used up her allotment of tenderness on Tristan that night. Time to get crusty once more.

*****

Christmas eve dinner at Ann’s house was underscored by a variety of emotions. Most of the people seated around the table had been in this spot last year, as well - the exceptions being Nick, Holly and AJ, all of whom would be arriving in a couple of days. How Tristan wished that AJ was there tonight…. His attitude and lightness were just this gathering needed. It wasn’t that everybody was mad, sad or upset, it was just that the evening was clouded by memories. Kevin had been emotional for most of the day, ever since Tristan had given him the tin plane that his grandmother had wanted him to have and explained it’s significance. He had hung it high on their tree, in the front, and while he didn’t break down, he had been left with a sense of melancholy that Tristan hoped the letter would erase. She had decided to save that for Christmas, not wishing to throw too much at Kevin at one time.

Jerald and Kevin were cordial and, to their credit, were both trying to be upbeat with each other. The ‘trying’ became less difficult after several cups of Jerald’s ‘special’ eggnog which contained very little egg but a whole lot of nog. Brian seemed to be almost hovering over Kevin. They had disappeared twice since the Littrell’s arrived and when they had returned, Kevin seemed sharp and focused again. He seemed to be coming down with a cold and Tristan wondered if maybe he just didn’t feel all that well, but his sniffles seemed to stop after a while and she thought that he’d probably be all right when rehearsals started in a couple of days.

“At least it’s not snowing this year…” Harold remarked.

“Damn! I thought it was!” Brian laughed, cutting his eyes over to Kevin who just shook his head and smiled.

Tristan figured it must be some sort of private joke between the cousins and smiled along with her husband. Brian could be so silly….

Once or twice during dinner, someone referred to ‘last Christmas’. The conversation was natural and casual but whenever such a reference was made, Tristan felt Kevin’s hand under the table as he gripped her wrist, unwilling to turn it loose until the dinner table talk took a different turn.

She thought that maybe they should make it an early evening. She played for him later that night, when they had gone home and were alone again. She played for him in front of the Christmas tree. She played for him on her knees, her instrument of choice, not a piano but her mouth and tongue, teeth and throat. Her song lasted a long time…..

Tristan had a difficult time waking Kevin the next morning. She let him sleep for a while after she had risen but by ten AM, she couldn’t wait any longer. It was Christmas, for Pete’s sake! She was unaware that he had gotten up during the night, unable to sleep until he swallowed two little pills just before sunrise.

“Get up, get up, get up!!!” Tristan cried jumping on the end of the bed. “Where’s the tiara you got me for Christmas! It’s time for you to crown me Queen Tristan the First - Queen of Backstreet Land and all that she surveys!”

“I’ll crown you all right…" Kevin mumbled into his pillow.

“Fine - if you don’t want your present!” Tristan scowled.

“I thought you gave me my present last night…" Tristan saw him smile into the linen. “It was a pretty good present, Tris…”

“Well you just lay there, then, Kevin and you’ll keep getting that present - once a year.., at Christmastime…” She moved off the bed. “Just think, sweetie - only 365 days…and nights…to go.”

Kevin’s eyes opened then. “Damn - you drive a hard bargain, baby..”

“That’s why I’m the Queen…” Tristan snorted.

“Yeah….” Kevin mumbled as Tristan skipped out of the room. “Queen Atilla…”

He finally stumbled down the stairs, scratching his crotch contentedly before he flopped down of the sofa.

“Looks like that case of Blue Star Ointment I got you for Christmas will come in handy…" Tristan frowned.

Kevin reached under the tree and brought out a small foil wrapped box. They had agreed to get each other one gift only and decided that that it couldn’t be anything new or terribly expensive. He handed the box to Tristan and she grinned.

“Too small to be a tiara…” she laughed, shaking the small package.

“Go on and open it…”

Tristan took off the paper and discovered that it had covered a velvet box. When she opened the lid, she found a dainty choker, what was commonly known as a lavaliere. The gold chain was studded with tiny diamonds and accented with a filigree pendant fashioned of gold wire. A larger diamond had been set into the center of the design and was surrounded by tiny rose gold dogwood blossoms. A freshwater pearl dangled from bottom. The choker was beautiful and obviously quite old. Tristan was speechless.

"It's from the 1880's. Belonged to Amelia Davis - daughter of Jefferson Davis."

"The Jefferson Davis?" Tristan's mouth was hanging open.

"That's what the dealer said." Kevin smiled. "The dogwood is for Virginia…"

Tristan turned and held her hair up as Kevin fastened the choker around her neck. "Perfect fit…" he whispered and then kissed the nape of her neck. When he turned her back around, her fingers were moving over the drop and her eyes were wet. "Aw, come on, baby! I'll get you a tiara next year… I promise…" Kevin started fumbling around under the tree. "Now where's that ointment?…"

Tristan grinned at Kevin's playfulness and smacked his hands.

"Quit tearing stuff up!" she scolded. "There's your present."

Kevin slid the large box out from under the tree.

"Looks like I got the tiara…"

When he unceremoniously tore the paper from the box, he saw that Tristan had bought him a top-of-the-line reel to reel tape player. Taped to the side of the box was a round metal tape can and on the outside of the can was a label. The label read: 'Presley Masters, Sun, March 1951.'

"You've got to be shittin' me…" Kevin whispered. "Where in the hell did you get this?"

"Mutt helped me." Tristan confessed. "He knows what's what in Nashville…"

Kevin was awestruck. Tristan could swear his hand was shaking a little as he pulled the lid from the can.

"Damn, baby…Damn, damn, damn!"

Kevin grabbed her around the neck and kissed her fiercely.

"Can't I have a little tongue with that?" she teased.

*****

Tristan decided to hold off on Memaw's letter. She would wait a few more days. She thought she might even wait until the babies arrived. Kevin would need a kind thought from his father then. She put the letter in her hospital bag so she would have it when he needed it.

On the afternoon of the 27th, Kevin drove to the Lexington airport to pick up Nick, Holly, Mason and Jack. AJ and Amanda had decided to drive and should be there any time. Howie had arrived at the Littrell's earlier in the day and had already escaped to Kevin's house once for a brief respite. 'I am Catholic, you know…' Howie had explained.

Rehearsals would begin tomorrow.

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"Circling" is a work of fiction.
The characters and events portrayed are fictitious.
Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

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Fiction by Grace