Page 68 of Really Truly Yours
“Up until last month, I was a case worker with CPS.
The delectably fluffy pancake on my fork suddenly loses appeal. My brothers and I had an encounter with CPS. At the time, I was desperately afraid of being taken away from my family. In the end, what I held against the institution is that it didn’t take us out of the house. Thankfully, we ended up with Grammy soon anyway.
I’m so thankful when Avery moves along without questions. I’m certain my face showed things.
“It was crazy. I got called out to this awful motel outside of town to check on two abandoned boys, and who do I meet? This scary drug dealer guy who had been looking after them since their mom took off.”
Their mother abandoned them? I squeeze my napkin and move things along. “Tripp?” Obviously.
Nodding, she takes a sip of orange juice. “He was great with the boys, and nothing about him added up. Part thug and part really helpful, caring man.”
How fascinating, like a movie or something. “How did you find out who he really was?”
Her expression becomes a sort of wince. Once she’s deep into a tale about runaway kids, overdoses, and vindictive drug lords, I understand why. How frightening that must have been, despite that, in the end, she wound up with her own happily ever after straight out of a novel.
Her fingers, topped by perfectly sculpted nails, toy with the knot on her robe. “Tripp told me early on, even before I knew he was an undercover cop, how much he missed his little brother. At the time, he had no idea what had happened to Gray all those years ago. It was so sad.”
I nod in quiet sympathy.
“Being able to connect him with Grayson last year was one of the highest accomplishments of my life.” Avery waves the words away. “Not that I’m taking credit or anything. God worked it out. Since then, life, Gray’s especially, has kept them apart more than they’d like, so getting reacquainted after two decades, that’s why he’s here now. I hate that his career is in jeopardy, but the injury has given him a window to be around. It means so much to Tripp. And I’m glad they were together when Donny showed up. I think that’s been helpful for Gray as he processes it all.”
I’m sure, but Tripp…
It’s like she reads my mind. “I wish Tripp knew who his father was.”
“Has he tried to find out?” Oh, I need to stay in my lane.
“Never. He claims he doesn’t care, but I know he does. And he needs to work through some stuff.” She puts her chin in her palm. “I’m talking too much, aren’t I? Sleep deprivation must be messing with my mind. Go ahead. Eat, Sydnee.”
It is difficult to eat sometimes when somebody is talking at you. I’m not that hungry, though, and her story is fascinating. As for Tripp’s father issues, I hope she knows what she’s asking for, because Donny will not wait forever.
Avery rises and starts rattling dishes around in the sink. “I do want to thank you, Sydnee. Gray told us what you did, meeting him when Donny couldn’t. Taking care of Donny.”
I rest my fork on the plate. “Donny has done a lot for me. I had to do what I could for him.”
She smiles over. “Nonetheless, thank you. I know Gray was angry at first, but he needed this. He needed to know.”
There’s more than half a pancake remaining on my plate when I push it away. I still can’t eat nearly what I used to.
Where is Grayson, anyway? How long does it take to throw on a clean shirt? Avery is more than hospitable, but I don’t belong here. How I must seem to her. Like her former clients?
“Oh, my gosh! I just thought of something!”
She sets down a dish, dries her hands, and whirls from the sink, eyeing me. “What size are you?”
“Um…” I have to think for a minute. I so rarely shop. And since all the weight I lost, her question is harder than it should be.
She scampers around a corner into the hallway where Gray and I entered. She returns, dragging a stuffed trash bag.
I pop up. “Be careful!” It looks heavy.
“I’m fine.” She flaps her hand. “So, I guess I’ve been in the pre-baby nesting phase, and I’ve been cleaning out my closet.” Her mouth twists with self-deprecation. “These right here are all the clothes I know I’m never going to be able to wear again. I was about to donate them.” She does another size-up. “You look like the right size. Do you want them?”
It’s verified. I look every bit the loser I feel. Now I’m a charity case?
She beams. “Please take them.”
“No, thank you. Go ahead and donate them.”