Tristan Trilogy- Story 3

CHAPTER 58

It was no fun being confined to a plane with two small children, a toddler and an infant. It wasn’t fun for Tristan and she was sure that the other passengers in first class weren’t enjoying it either. Mallory did her best to play with Rachel, but the younger girl was easily bored. Dylan slept most of the way and when he was awake, Ben took on the task of keeping him entertained. He was three months old now – a good baby with a happy temperament – and a constant visual reminder of Kevin. On those rare occasions when he did fuss or frown, Tristan would smile as her heart filled with bittersweet memories of an earlier time. He looks so much like his father…

Now, here she was on a plane heading for Lexington. Tristan wasn’t exactly sure how she’d ended up in this situation. All she knew was that Ann had been calling on a regular basis since Dylan was born, bemoaning the fact that she hadn’t seen her new grandson and that it had been ages since she’d seen the other three children. When Tristan invited her for a visit, Ann always had an excuse why she couldn’t come. Then, two weeks ago, Ann had called again. The Littrells were having a family reunion – the first one in over twenty years. Ann and her brother were in charge of the preparations and it was going to be a big deal, by Lexington standards.

“Please, Tristan… I want all of my grandchildren there! It’s just for one weekend!”

Tristan had sighed wearily. That’s just where she needed to be – in the middle of Kevin’s relatives for an entire weekend. Not to mention that fact that Kevin would probably be there, too. Tristan only had a vague recollection of Kevin being with her when Dylan was born. She still hadn’t seen or spoken to him. She couldn’t bear it – even after all these months she couldn’t seem to move on with her life. News about the children had been relayed to him through Ann and communication with Kevin – or the lack thereof - was essentially the same as it was after their divorce with the exception of her visit to rehab and his trip to Virginia when Dylan was born. Neither of them had been themselves at those times and Tristan had come to feel that their estrangement was permanent.

“I can’t see Kevin, Ann. I’m sorry. I don’t want to be mean but he’ll be there and I can’t…. I just can’t….”

“Does it still hurt so bad, honey?” Ann asked sympathetically.

“I – I don’t know,” Tristan stammered into the phone. “Yes - no… I don’t know… I just don’t think…”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anyway,” Ann interrupted. “Kevvy’s supposed to be in California producing some CD for somebody. He called to say he was sorry and all. Shoot, it won’t be the first time he’s missed a family event.”

“I see…” Tristan murmured.

“So, you don’t have anything to worry about that. I promise nobody’ll be mean to you..”

“I’m not wor…”

“Good! You arrange for a flight and let me know when you’ll be here.” The course was set.

“If I come, I think I should just drop the children off and come right back here. I can pick them up after a day or two…” Tristan’s suggestion had been met with an uncomfortable silence. “Ann? Ann, are you there?”

“Oh…well, yes! Of course I’m here, dear!” Ann laughed uneasily. “That’ll be fine if that’s what you want. Just make a promise that you’ll arrange all of that after you get here. It might not be so bad and I know that Jerald, Tim and Meemaw want to get a chance to see you.”

“I doubt that…” Tristan argued.

“Now, don’t be silly. Things just ‘happen’ sometimes. We know that Kevin messed up, honey. We all understand that now. Nobody blames you.” Then Ann threw a low and deliberate blow based on what little she knew about Tristan’s own childhood. “But this is family, dear. Think about the children…”

Ouch….

Tristan raised her tray and adjusted her seat belt. They were approaching Lexington as she finished recalling her conversation with Ann. Kevin’s mother had sure pressed her ‘family’ button and Tristan had grave doubts about her innocence in doing so. If it weren’t for her fondness for Ann, she wouldn’t have agreed to this trip at all. Oh, well… It’ll be good for the kids to see their family. That’s more than I ever had. And at least I won’t have to face Kevin….

*****

“What’s the matter, man? You go deaf or something?”

Kevin glanced up from the fistful of photographs he held in his hands. The pictures were of his children. Tristan had sent double prints to his mother and she had forwarded a set to him. It didn’t get past Kevin than Tristan could have easily scanned the pictures and sent them to him through e-mail. She doesn’t want me to have her addy….

“What? Did you say something J?”

“For shit’s sake Kev! You’re gonna wear the damn things out flippin’ through ‘em a hundred times a minute…”

“I know…” Kevin answered sheepishly. “Sorry. Let’s get back to work…” He stacked the pictures and slid them back into his bag.

AJ sighed as Kevin began adjusting knobs on the console. In the old days, Kevin would have told him to ‘get fucked’ after that remark. Although AJ could see improvement, Kevin was still a shell of his former self. The man was hurting.

“Brian tells me you got a big family reunion coming up this weekend…”

“That’s what I hear…” Kevin answered absently. “Actually, it’s tonight. My mother’s been buggin’ the shit out of me.”

“You ain’t goin’?

“Naw… I’ve got work. Need to mix Fontella’s track,” he said as he studied a page of music. “Let’s get back to this harmony…”

Kevin was changing the subject. This was obviously something he didn’t want to discuss. AJ refused the hint and pressed on. He had a job to do. He had to get Kevin to Kentucky. He was supposed to go on his own but ‘Mr. Workaholic’ had decided to make things difficult. Ann had called AJ on the sly last night in a panic after another attempt to guilt her son back to Lexington had failed.

“But Kev, I thought you were all into this family shit… I mean, Jesus, – I can’t believe…

AJ was silenced by Kevin’s unexpected, but curiously welcomed, short fuse.

“My family isn’t there, is it AJ? Can we just drop this, now? Please?”

The wiry singer removed his sunglasses, took a breath and continued after sending up a silent prayer that he would not be beaten senseless after what he was about to say.

“Yeah, I was wondering about that, Kev. What the hell are you waitin’ for, man?”

“What are you talking about?” Kevin asked, the tone of his voice signaling an unspoken warning.

“Chist, Kevin. You kill me. You know good and well what I’m talkin’ about! You love the livin’ shit out of that woman! You miss your kids! Hell, you don’t even know two of ‘em…”

“Watch it, AJ…” Kevin hissed, rising from his seat.

AJ pushed on. “If you were any kind of man, you’d go claim your family! You told me after Dylan was born that you wanted to be clean for one year! One year, Kev! You told me– and Mason – that you were gonna find out if you and Tris still had a chance. Then you said that you wanted to be clean for a year before you made any moves – that you wanted to have some kind of ‘record’ or some bullshit….”

Kevin was in front of AJ in two long strides. “It hasn’t been a year yet, asshole! Stay outta my shit!” Kevin had AJ by the collar now and the two men were nose to nose.

AJ wished he had gone to the bathroom before this confrontation began. Right now he thought that he might stand a good chance of messing himself up. He had stepped on a big, sore nerve by questioning Kevin’s manhood and Kevin looked like he was ready to take a major plug out of him. But he’d gone too far to stop now. Mrs. R owes me big time for this….. BIG time…..

“Stop bein’ so fuckin’ anal, you overgrown prick...” AJ winced even as he shouted those words. He was gonna get it.. “… It’s been forty-nine goddamn weeks! That’s fuckin’ close enough! Stop thinkin’ so goddamn much and get your motherfuckin’ ass to Kentucky!” He squeezed his eyes shut, wondering what part of his body Kevin was going to annihilate.

“You mean Virginia, don’t you, you tattooed son of a bitch!” Kevin was grabbing AJ’s collar so tightly now that his heels were lifting off the floor.

“No I don’t, you … you Dudley Dooright, square jawed hillbilly! Tristan flew into Lex last night with the kids!”

AJ felt Kevin’s grip on him loosen as the back of his feet made contact with terra firma once again. After a few seconds, Kevin let go of him completely and AJ found the courage to open one eye, wondering if Kevin was going for the sneak attack. Instead, he found Kevin staring at him. His mouth was slightly opened and his brows had angled over his eyes.

“What?” Kevin squeaked. “Tristan’s in Lexington?”

“Yeah…” AJ grumbled, straightening his shirt. He paused when Kevin made no response and did a double take, concerned about the older bandmate’s reaction to his news. “You ain’t gonna cry, are you?”

Kevin looked bewildered. “Why is Tristan in Lexington?”

“For Christ’s sake..” AJ huffed impatiently. “The reunion, numb-nuts! Your mother finally guilted her into bringing the kids! Now you’re fuckin’ this shit up by refusing to go. Your mom is about to go crazy and, frankly, so the hell am I!”

“Does Tris know I’m not going to be there?”

“Your mom told her you said you weren’t coming…”

“Oh…that explains it. She doesn’t want to see me. She wouldn’t have gone if she thought I might…”

“Quit your whining!” AJ scowled. “She’s scared – just like you! She was gonna fly back to Virginia today – thought nobody would want her around – under the circumstances and all. I mean, it is your family…” AJ looked past Kevin for a moment as a slow smile came to his lips. “Too bad she couldn’t get a flight out of the state….”

Kevin didn’t understand. “What do you mean? Of course she could…”

“Nick managed to fix that..” AJ grinned. “I swear the boy makes me proud…”

“Nick?” Kevin stared at AJ as if he were speaking Swahili. “What does Nick…

“Short version…” AJ cut in. “Brian invited Nick and Holly to the reunion ‘cuz Holly was playing in Louisville anyway… Ann told Jackie, who told Brian, who told Nick that she wanted to get Tris there for the get together. Then Ann found out that Tristan was gonna drop the kids and head back to Virginia cuz she felt out of place. So, meanwhile Ann’s trying to get you there, too – you know – for a ‘different’ kind of reunion…” AJ accentuated this part of the explanation by wiggling his eyebows. “….so they have to figure a way to keep Tris there…”

“And?”

AJ began to cackle. “And so Nick hightails it to the Lex airport and starts paying off reservationists. Says they shouldn’t take any reservations for Tristan Mallory Richardson that could get her back to Virginia before the beginning of the week - that if she called for a seat, he would pay for it so the airline wouldn’t have to worry about losin’ any dough over the deal. Damn boy’s paid for twelve seats last I heard – plus what he paid in bribes…”

Kevin flopped back down into his chair. “So you and my mother are working a scam….”

“Hey, not ‘till last night!” AJ cried defensively. “I mean I wasn’t brought into this until last night! And it ain’t just me – Nick’s got his thumb in this, too… Besides,” he pouted, “I wouldn’t call it a ‘scam’…”

“What would you call it, Alex?” Kevin sounded a little sarcastic.

“I think of this as…as… ‘encouragement’…”

Kevin combed his hair back from his face with his fingers. Fate, along with AJ, Nick and his blessed mother, had thrown a big, fat and unexpected possibility in his lap – a possibility that he had to deal with…now.

“I need to think, Alex…”

“Yeah…” AJ nodded and patted Kevin on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go down to the lounge for a while so you can have some time. Just don’t take too long, Kev. Last flight leaving for Lex takes off in two and half hours.” He was about to step through the door when he added, “I already reserved you a seat in first-class…” Then he disappeared.

Kevin stared at the board, not really seeing it, and let the last two-plus years wrap themselves around his brain. The first fourteen months were a little blurry. The group toured. The group recorded. Sometimes he was ‘there’ but usually he wasn’t. He drank, he snorted, he partied, he fucked and had soon realized that if he did those things enough, he wouldn’t have to think. He managed to keep himself from thinking but he couldn’t avoid memories. A large part of him hadn’t really wanted to. Memories were all he had of Tristan.

When he thought of what he had finally sunk to – how he had hurt her in a moment of senseless anger, his shame had been so great that self-forgiveness had become impossible. It still was.

Somehow he had found the strength to clean himself up and marveled at the fact that his bandmates had continued to stand by him throughout the prolonged ordeal. Tristan hadn’t been able to stand by – not physically anyway. He had become unstable and a threat, not only to her, but to their children and himself. When the fog cleared, he had been able to understand why she’d had to leave. It wasn’t so much to protect herself as it was to protect him and their children. He had become untrustworthy and Tristan couldn’t bear for their children to be disappointed in the man that Kevin was becoming. She’d experienced childhood disappointment first hand.

Cleaning his body and mind of poison had been difficult. There were many days when the only thing that kept him clean was the hope that he would be able to find what he had lost if he managed to stay on the straight and narrow. He had spent countless hours preparing himself and planning on how he could get his family back, all the while fearful that Tristan might find solace in the arms of another. Now he realized that planning was the easy part. It was a diversion and an excuse not to act. It was a rational way to avoid the pain of rejection for as long as he was not actually rejected, he had hope. Now the time had come for the excuses to end. AJ had, unknowingly, issued him an ultimatum. Succinctly put: Shit or get off the pot. Kevin had been forced to look into his own soul and he realized he was scared. Scared shitless. He may as well get off the pot….

AJ was pacing when Kevin appeared at the lounge doorway. He froze, waiting to hear what Kevin was going to say.

“Okay, Alex. I guess it’s time. You win.”

AJ’s eyes lit up behind his glasses. “No, man. You win…”

“That remains to be seen, doesn’t it? Anyway, get yourself a seat on that plane and we’ll get straight to go.”

“We?”

“I might need someone to scrape me up if this doesn’t work out…” Kevin explained.

AJ nodded his understanding. Kevin’s comment seemed light but he was deadly serious. “I always carry a razor blade with me..” he joked, tapping his pocket.

They agreed to meet at the airport in two hours and then Kevin left. He didn’t look so good. When AJ was sure he was gone, he pulled out his cell and dialed.

“The blackbird is on the wing…,” he said, trying not to laugh. AJ clicked off the phone and shook his head. That Mrs. R is really something… I feel like I’m working for the fuckin’ CIA…

*****

Brian, Leighanne, Nick and Holly had come over to see Tristan and the children that morning. It had been an extremely awkward and emotion filled scene. Before it was over everyone had shed their share of tears and, surprisingly – to Tristan, at least – Brian had been the most upset of the bunch. Tristan had never seen Brian cry before. She would never learn why he had been affected so deeply. At this point, such knowledge would have served no positive purpose.

They tried to catch her up on the two years she had missed with them but they all knew that that time was lost forever. Tristan had little to contribute to the discussion and she found herself relegated to her original role in the group – that of listener. There was some good news, however. Holly and Nick had just found out they were expecting their first child. They were so excited, especially Nick who talked about the upcoming event as if he were going to get a new playmate instead of a child. He would be a good father and his child would never feel neglected or unloved. The news made Tristan both happy and sad. She was happy in their joy and saddened that she would have no part of it. Nick and Holly’s baby would only be a year younger than Dylan. It would have been nice for the two children to grow up together as friends. Tristan didn’t expect that would ever happen, though. As wonderful as it was for her to see her old friends, it was painful as well. Kevin’s absence and their failed marriage became even more conspicuous – if that was possible.

It was just past nine PM when Ann asked Tristan to help her carry some more food over to the barn where the reunion was being held. She’d had to guilt Tristan into that, too. She didn’t want to go and Ann had been forced to play a year’s worth of ‘mother’s guilt cards’, to get her over there. It’s beginning to storm, dear, and I have to get this slaw over there, plus this tray of ham biscuits… I need your help. You don’t have to stay. Just help me. Please. The children are asleep and Jerald is here with them.. Tristan had countered with the notion that Jerald could help his mother and she would stay at the house. But he’s expecting an important call tonight. He can’t miss it.. Ann didn’t know where she had come up with that one, but it seemed to work. Tristan had begrudgingly followed her out of the back door and across the meadow to the barn that Kevin had had refurbished last year.

Ann was feeling a little guilt herself. She knew and understood why Tristan didn’t want to subject herself to the scrutiny of family members, many of whom didn’t know her and had only heard the tabloid rumors about her and Kevin. Under the circumstances, she thought that her ex-daughter-in-law was showing a great deal of courage. Another reason struck Ann as they approached the barn. Tristan hadn’t set foot on their Kentucky property in almost two and a half years. By in large, the times she and Kevin had spent there had been happy ones. All of this must be very painful for her.

The tiny, but spunky matriarch braced her shoulders. Sometimes healing requires a painful treatment… AJ had called from the airport while Kevin secured a cab. They were on their way. Thankfully, they had landed before the forecasted thunderstorm hit but Ann hoped that the storm would serve in Tristan and Kevin’s favor. Rumbles off in the distance promised a heavy downfall that might keep Tristan in place for a while. AJ had been forced to spill his pot of beans. He had told Kevin that Tristan was here and he had come. Half the battle was already won but it would take Tristan’s love to win a full victory.

*****

“You go on over…” Kevin ordered. “I’ll be there in a bit. I want to see my babies first.” AJ didn’t argue but he had to bite his tongue to keep from doing so. He didn’t want to have to kill Kevin but, with Nick’s help, he may be forced into murder if their broken – yet still stubborn as hell – leader chickened out on this. He suspected that Kevin had not yet reached full ‘control mode’, although AJ felt he would soon be there. The signs had been unfolding all the way across country as Kevin slowly moved himself into a ‘take charge’ position. He needed a few minutes alone now to steel himself for any possibility – maybe even to pray a little. AJ prayed a little, too – prayed that he wouldn’t have to use his ‘razor blade’ to scrape Kevin from the floor.

AJ had been right. Kevin did need a few more minutes. Kevin didn’t know what would happen and the thought of seeing Tristan again had unnerved him to some degree. He went up the stairs to check on his children and the sight of them sleeping peacefully in their beds is what finally flipped his switch. They were his babies. Tristan was his wife. That’s the way it was. That’s the way it would be again. She had told him in rehab that she had never stopped loving her husband. Kevin was, and always would be, her husband. A fertile determination took hold him as he stood over his children and when a loud crack of thunder sounded, ripping open the clouds, he straightened. His year was up and it was time to reclaim his woman, even if dozens of people would bear witness.

*****

Old fashioned blue-grass had moved a dozen of the couples to the center of the barn. Mandolins and guitars joined forces to create foot-stompin’ melodies that only the deaf could resist. Men and boys, women and girls twirled and skipped to the traditional tunes of the Kentucky hills. This wasn’t classical and it wasn’t Backstreet, either. This was home. These were Kevin’s roots – roots that he had generously shared with Tristan during their time together.

She was startled when she felt a tap on her shoulder, and even more startled when she turned to see the tapper.

“How ‘bout a dance, you good-lookin’ thing, you…”

It was AJ. Tristan heard herself squeal in delight before confusion set in.

“What are you doing here?”

Ann, standing close by, rode to the rescue. “Brian mentioned that he’d called about some schedule or something and I told Brian to ask him if he wanted to come…”

Tristan jerked her head back to AJ. “And you wanted to come? To this?….” She cocked her head toward the musicians.

AJ rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m trying to expand my musical knowledge….”

They were talking when another peal of thunder clapped directly overhead. Tristan glanced towards the barn door. They were having a real gully-washer now. Large drops of rain poured down so fast and thick that visibility had been cut considerably. From the diminished glow of outside lighting, it was clear that the sheets of rain would make it impossible to see more than a few feet, if that.

Suddenly Tristan felt a shiver dance up her spine as she stared out into the rain past the couples whirling to the music. The sounds of guitars, harmonicas and voices faded to a distant hum. She detected movement in the distant darkness. Soon she recognized the figure of a person. As the person grew closer, she saw that it was a man. Why is my heart hammering?… Tristan was transfixed as the anonymous form began to take shape with each advancing step and by the time he stopped at the doorway, Tristan had been struck both deaf and dumb at the sight of Kevin standing there. He was soaked to the bone and she was reminded of hours spent together in showers and tubs. She felt frightened and wanted to run but she couldn’t move. When he appeared, his eyes were already locked onto hers, as if she had been the only person in the barn. He held her gaze steadily as he began to approach and Tristan was dimly aware of the crowd parting – creating a path to let him through. The music had stopped and people were staring. Even the musicians had become statues – wondering what to do and waiting for some signal to either continue or pack it in. The Littrell family reunion had skidded to a stop.

Still, he walked towards her, not smiling, not acknowledging anyone else in the room. His intensity was palatable and Tristan swallowed, tasting the passion and power of his gaze. Then he stopped. Neither of them spoke for several moments and then, to Tristan’s amazement, Kevin held out one rain-soaked arm and, without preamble and in front of friends, family and God, uttered one question.

“Tristan… Will you play for me?”

Divine grace is all that kept her standing as she stared into Kevin’s eyes trying to make sure she understood the full implication of his question. Was it too late? Had too much happened? His eyes were clear and determined. The confidence and strength that she found there fell over her like a warm blanket. Her eyes fell to his outstretched hand. Her lover had come back for her and she would have to decide whether or not to keep herself safe, but only half alive. He had come more than halfway.

She looked up him again as one of her hands fell naturally into his and the other touched the smooth plane of his cheek. Her choice had been made.

“Yes, I will…”

Kevin’s lips curled into a soft smile before he looked towards the bandstand and nodded. The music started again. Kevin grabbed Tristan by the waist and began to spin her around the floor in time to the music which suddenly seemed unbearably loud and fast. They were too drunk with love to realize that they were the only ones dancing for the crowd of gawking onlookers.

Then, as Kevin’s family and bandmates watched, he and Tristan suddenly broke into peals of laughter. Still, they flew around the dirt floor in time to the music but as the song reached its crescendo, Kevin danced her out of the barn door and into the storm where they were instantly drenched. Soon they disappeared from view – still dancing, laughing and holding on to each other for dear life.

EPILOGUE

Kevin sat at the control panel and glanced at his watch for the umpteenth time. She was late and the group was ready to get started. This would be the second CD that he would be producing for the popular singing sensations and they hoped that it would provide them with the acceptance they longed for. They already had legions of fans but the critics hadn’t been so kind. Kevin remembered the feeling.

Travis Worthington, the more serious member of the group, was studying the sheet music for the number they were about to record. Kevin could tell he was getting impatient. The sound mixer hadn’t arrived yet and was long overdue. They were all waiting. The group didn’t know that Kevin’s daughter would be mixing the tracks.

“Just who is this ‘Mallory’ person?” Travis scowled. “Being late isn’t very professional, Kevin!”

Kevin had a sudden rush of déjà vu as he remembered the first time he had laid eyes on Tristan Mallory. She had also been late to the studio and he had been impatient. This isn’t very professional, Mutt! He had asked her to fetch some water for them, thinking she was a studio gopher and Nick had cavalierly offered her his autograph as if he were honoring her in some way. Kevin lost himself in the memory for a moment as he stared through the open door into an empty hallway. So long ago…

A door slammed and Kevin saw Mallory come around the corner. Except for her long, black hair, she had grown into the spitting image of her mother. Her violet eyes twinkled as she entered the control room and her fair skin was flushed from rushing.

“Sorry…” she whispered to her father. “My plane was late…”

Just like Tristan’s…. Travis looked up briefly from his sheets of music and Kevin watched as the young singer and Mallory locked eyes through the glass.

“Would you go get us some sodas?” he asked her. “And let us know when the great ‘Mallory the Mixer’ arrives, will you?”

Kevin felt like he was watching the rerun of an old and favorite movie. He was suddenly overcome. He had spoken almost identical words to Tristan in Sweden so many years ago. He started to protest Travis’ arrogance but Mallory held up her hand to stop him. She disappeared and came back with several cans of soda that she promptly passed out to the band members.

“You’re kinda cute!” the young heart-throb, Jordan Dawson, smiled. “You want my autograph while you’re here, hon?”

Kevin felt his throat slowly tighten. He felt as if he were having some kind of paranormal experience. He was picturing the Backstreet Boys twenty-five years ago on the day that they began recording their Millennium album.

“Sure!” Mallory answered sweetly. She turned and gave her father a surreptitious wink. “I’ll put it my collection.”

Mallory smiled as she waited for Jordan to finish signing the paper. Then Kevin watched as she walked over to Travis, the brooding, tight-ass of the group.

“How about you?” Mallory asked with wide-eyed innocence.

Kevin almost mouthed the words along with them as they spoke. His eyes filled as he witnessed the first act of his daughter’s life drama unfold. This adaptation varied only slightly from the one he had starred in long ago.

“Okay…” Travis grumbled, grabbing the paper out of her hand. “What’s your name?”

“Mallory,” she smiled, as Travis’ mouth fell open. “Mallory Richardson.”

The sages and seers were right. With age comes wisdom and the ability to recognize what is true. Kevin knew at that moment that Travis and Mallory had been brought together by destiny. He could only hope that the Master Playwright would give them as much love as He had given to Tristan and himself.

After the session, the group invited him and Mallory to come out with them for some dinner. Kevin declined but encouraged Mallory to go on and have a good time. They could catch up later. The fact was that Kevin needed a little time alone to sort out the scene he had witnessed in the studio. Ben was in New York, already teaching Symphony Composition at Julliard. He had inherited Tristan’s talent at the keyboard. Rachel was in LA, getting ready to film her first video as a solo artist. She was so scared. Kevin was flying out to be with her when the shoot began. The baby, Dylan, was about to graduate from high school. He looked exactly like Kevin but the boy was AJ McLean through and through. This concerned Nick greatly seeing as how Dylan had been showing a profound interest in his daughter, Chloe. Dylan was, no doubt, on his way to Tampa by now to drive Nick crazy. Divine retribution, at last… Yes, Kevin was looking forward to a quiet evening alone. He used to hate them. After Tristan died, he thought that he would surely lose his mind. It had been six years now – seven since the diagnosis - and he still hurt everyday. There were times, even now, that his heartache was so intense that the pain of missing her was actually physical. It was at those times that Kevin would go into his closet and retrieve the remnants of the pink camisole. Tristan had only been forty-three years old when she died as a result of lymphoma.

Kevin didn’t go home to Kentucky as often anymore now that Tristan was gone. When he did, he stayed with his mother unless the children were with him and then they stayed at the log house. He was unable to stay in their home by himself. He and the children had been making it a point to go together in June. The honeysuckle grew wildly during that month and the vines he had planted around Tristan’s grave would need trimming. He had obtained a permit to have a family plot on his property and this is where Tristan had been buried. The little cemetery was located in the clearing where he and Tristan had married twenty-four years ago, her resting place marked by a white marble angel.

The funeral had been a small and private affair. Tristan had had the foresight and consideration to take care of many of the details herself when she realized that modern medicine was not going to help her. She had never told Kevin about this because she knew it would have made him angry. He had hung onto the hope of a miracle up until the end. He remembered vividly the night she died. It was if she knew it was time. She had made arrangements for the children to spend the night elsewhere. Kevin had awakened at four in the morning to find her staring at him, a soft smile on her lips. ‘What’s wrong?’ he had asked. “Are you okay? Do you need something?’ She had kept her smile as she answered, “I’m thirsty…’ she answered. ‘Would you mind getting me some water?’ As he started to pull himself up, she had kissed him gently. ‘Thank you…for everything’ she murmured. When he had returned from the kitchen, she was dead.

She had specifically requested flowers in her instructions – but not flowers for her service. She had asked that people buy the flowers and then put them in their own homes. ‘Even better’, she had written, ‘Get yourself a flowering bush or tree and plant it somewhere in your yard.’ As a result of her request, there had been a huge run on Tropicana roses that week. Kevin had virtually dropped out of sight after the funeral. He and the children had stayed in Kentucky to grieve under the watchful, glass eyes of Sophia.

Now, as he entered the Orlando house, bits and pieces of their life flooded his memory again. Tristan’s dance in the kitchen the first time she came over, the holidays that she relished with a child-like excitement, the long and lazy bubble baths they enjoyed together. Kevin hadn’t been in a bathtub since she died.

As he walked into the great room, his eyes fell automatically to the ebony piano. Kevin smiled. He was fifty-two years old now, but on nights like these he felt like he was twenty-seven again. He picked up the remote, pointed it towards the stereo and hit ‘play’. The CD he had burned many years ago from Tristan’s tape was always ready to go and soon the familiar strains of Handel filled the room. Once again, Kevin could see her at the bench wearing the pink satin as he made his multi-layered request:

“Will you play for me, Tristan?”

She played for him then. She plays still….

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