Maybe Baby (47 page)

“Tylar,” he gave me his warning tone, “there was no agreement. You just made up this silly rule. I’d prefer not to wear this into the restaurant, if you don’t mind.”

“But I do mind. We’re going to have the Christmas spirit the whole way there,” I said, wagging my finger. Trey heaved a heavy sigh and pushed his hat back down.

“Just sit anywhere,” the waitress called out, her hands clutching three glasses of water as she headed to a booth. Our bells jingled as we slid into a booth. Other patrons smiled as we passed.

“See Trey,” I said as we sat down, “people appreciate holiday cheer. It’s the one day of the year that makes up for all the rest of them. It’s nice to get started a little early.”

“Anything you say, Tylar,” Trey answered smiling. His eyes were warm as he took my hand into his. “Just think, next year we’ll have a seven-month-old baby to spoil at Christmas.”

“I know,” I sighed. “I can hardly wait. I think he’ll have some grandparents eager to spoil him too.”

“That’s a given, Tylar.”

Our waitress approached our table warmly. “Hi y’all, I’m Rowena and can take your order whenever you’re ready.” She glanced at Trey’s handsome face as he pondered the menu. She smiled, resting her hands on her generous hips. “Well if you two aren’t just as cute as Christmas,” she said, playfully flipping at the bell on Trey’s hat. “What can I get for you
Mr. Santa
?” Her voice was thick with flirtation.

Hello? He's with someone here.

Her eyes never left Trey, which was fairly typical when we went out. I was actually starting to get used to it. Trey always appeared impassive to it, unless our server happened to be a male and flirted with me, of course.

“Tylar, go ahead,” Trey said looking up, forcing the waitress to focus on me. I ordered a waffle with sausage, juice, and milk. Trey ordered coffee, bacon, and eggs. She flitted off to put our order in. I rolled my eyes at Trey.

“What?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

“You can take the hat off if you want,” I said. “It seems to be drawing unwanted attention.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” he laughed, as I rolled my eyes at him.

Rowena was back with the coffee pot. She leaned her cleavage over Trey as she poured coffee into his mug. “Cream, sugar?” she gushed at him.

“No, black is fine,” Trey replied ignoring her flirtation.

“Excuse me, may I please have my orange juice?”

“Sure, honey,” she replied, not taking her eyes off of Trey.

I was fuming and Trey knew it. He found my jealousy somewhat amusing and I was finding the waitress’s audacity unacceptable. Trey sipped his coffee, watching me thoughtfully.

“So what time do you think we'll get to Bristol?” I asked, trying to divert my own attention away from Rowena who was back with my juice.

Trey checked his Rolex. “We’ve got another three hours. We’ll be there by noon.”

“Good,” I replied. “I want to get some shopping in today. You need to help me pick out stuff for your mom and dad. Are we exchanging with your brothers and Caroline?”

“I suppose so, we usually do. Perhaps we can find some sort of a jeweled muzzle for Caroline,” he said, frowning.

“She can’t be all that bad.”

With an arched eyebrow, he gave me a “wanna-bet” look.

“Did you get along with her when you were with Tess?”

“Not really. Caroline took advantage of the fact that Tess was younger and impressionable. She liked having someone look up to her. In exchange, many of Caroline’s shallow values were impressed upon Tess. I’m sure that they still stay in touch. Caroline is an only child and Tess never had a sister, so they feel some sort of faux sibling connection.”

“How did your mother feel about Tess?”

“Mom loved Tess. I mean, we were together for several years starting back in high school. Mom never had a daughter so Tess filled that void in some ways. Mom never bonded with Caroline. Tess was someone who shared confidences with my mother; they traveled together to visit me when I was at Oxford.”

I was somehow disappointed that Susan had been so close to Tess. I wanted to fill that daughter-less void she had. Perhaps that was one of the reasons Trey had not come clean about Tess’s pregnancy with his parents. He wanted to protect the relationship Tess had with his mother for his mother’s sake. I got it.

“Tylar, Mom will love you more than Tess, if that's what’s bothering you.” He could read me so well. I hoped he was right. I had a void to fill too.

Rowena came bustling over with a tray. She placed the plate with my waffle and sausage down in front of me, turning her full attention back to Trey. She put his plates in front of him, asking him if his toast was too dark. He said it was fine. She patted his shoulder, telling him she would be back to fill up his mug.

“It might be nice if she’d bring the milk I ordered.”

Rowena returned with her coffee carafe and rubbed Trey’s shoulder as she filled his mug.

“Excuse me, Rowena,” I snapped, getting her attention. “Do not touch him again. And would you please bring me the milk that I ordered?”

Rowena’s mouth dropped open then clamped shut when she saw my flashing eyes. She twirled on her heel and went off to the kitchen. I caught Trey’s startled reaction. Had I gone too far? I looked down, cutting my waffle into small pieces, afraid to meet his gaze. Rowena returned, setting my glass of milk and straw on the table, along with the check. I picked up the straw, peeling the paper off, placing it in the glass of milk.

“Okay,” I said, looking up at Trey, “I shouldn’t have snapped at her.”

Trey looked at me, so adorable with his fuzzy red Santa hat. He broke into a grin, his sexy dimple appearing. “Tylar, you amaze me,” he laughed. “I’ve no problem whatsoever with you claiming what’s yours. I do have a problem with you stopping me from doing it.”

“When did I ever stop you?”

“What about the incident with Littleton?”

“That was different,” I said, “That was in
your
workplace. Believe it or not, I was trying to protect you from yourself.”

I raised the glass of milk, putting the straw up to my lips.

“You realize that she probably spit in that, don’t you?”

I slammed the glass down, looking wide-eyed at Trey.

“Just sayin',” he replied as he took a sip of his coffee and winked.

Back in the car, I selected a new Christmas CD and played “White Christmas.”

“I wish it snowed in Bristol. Wouldn’t a white Christmas be awesome?”

“Is that how it was when you grew up?” Trey asked.

“Yes, we got snow in Radcliff. Not every year, but some Christmases were white.”

“What else do you remember about your Christmases?”

“Nothing that brings back any fond memories in particular. I’d rather hear about yours, Trey.”

“Pretty traditional stuff,” he said. “We always had a formal dinner on Christmas Eve with family and some friends. Christmas Day was for family only. My dad always cut a fresh tree from the woods. We’d decorate that on Christmas Eve morning. My mom insisted on making all of the pies. My favorite is chocolate by the way,” he looked over at me smiling.

I’ll file that away for future reference, I thought. “Trey, we haven’t really talked much about what’s going to happen when the baby gets here,” I said.

“What do we need to talk about?”

“Well, do you want to raise a child in an apartment in mid-town Atlanta?”

“I hadn’t thought about that. Babies don’t walk or play outside for a while, though. What’s the hurry?”

“I just wanted to know your feelings about the type of environment you want our child to be raised in. I mean, both of us come from very different backgrounds. We probably have different philosophies on child rearing. Don’t you think we should talk it over before the baby’s born?”

“You tell me your expectations, Tylar, and I'll tell you whether I feel the same, how’s that?”

“Okay,” I replied, enthusiastically. “Well first, I think that our child should have a pet. It’s important that he or she learns responsibility. And, I think at some point we need to consider moving to a house in the suburbs.”

“Agreed.”

Good, that wasn't difficult.

“I also think that children should have chores and earn spending money, when they're old enough of course.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I don’t believe in corporal punishment. I believe that discipline is more a matter of behavior modification through rewards, and punishment should be in the form of restrictions or denying privileges.”

“We’re still on the same page,” Trey replied, smiling.

“I think it’s also important that we present a united front, even if we disagree. This discourages the child from playing one of us against the other.”

“I agree as well.”

“That’s about all I can think of for now. Did I miss anything?”

Trey thought for a moment and then a slightly wicked look crossed his face. “You didn't mention one of my most rigid expectations,” he said.

“Which is?” I asked, quirking a brow.

“That you meet my
rigid
expectation,” he replied, putting my hand on his crotch.

“You're so crude,” I laughed. “This was supposed to be a serious talk.”

He laughed his gorgeous laugh.

It was 11:45 a.m. when we pulled up to the manor. Clive and Susan stood waiting for us on the porch. Susan grabbed me in a hug, making me stand back so that she could see my belly. Clive slapped Trey on the back. I greeted Clive with a hug and peck on the cheek. He blushed and pulled me to him in a gentle bear hug. Susan was gushing over her youngest son’s Santa hat, telling him how darling he looked. I wondered if Trey was her favorite. I looked forward to seeing how she interacted with the other sons.

Thatcher helped Trey with our luggage. Susan put her arm around my waist and we walked together into the house. She announced that Nigel and Tristan would be arriving around early afternoon the following day.. Christmas Eve dinner was at seven. Susan asked Trey about our plans for the day. Trey’s eyes locked with mine when he told his mother that he and I needed a nap before lunch. He told her we were going to finish our Christmas shopping after that. She said she was busy baking in the kitchen and was relieved that we had our own plans.

      
      
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Downtown Bristol was bustling with holiday shoppers. Trey picked out a “Learning to Share” Hummel figurine for his mother, a collector; for his father, he purchased a new Chacom Eltang Smooth Horn pipe and some tobacco. Trey said his father occasionally liked to enjoy brandy and a pipe. We bought Burberry wool scarves for each of Trey’s brothers. I managed to sneak a purchase of a new Burberry wallet for Trey while he was browsing through the scarves, tucking the package into my purse after paying for it.

We browsed some of the specialty shops. I found a crystal picture frame for Susan. I asked Trey where we could get some brandy; I wanted to buy a bottle for Clive from me to go with his new pipe and tobacco. We finally ended up buying Caroline a Hugo Kohl sterling silver die struck bracelet engraved with floral scrolls. With our primary shopping finished, we bought wrapping paper, bows, tags, and tape, and then headed back to the manor, stopping to pick up some Chinese take-out. We met Susan in the kitchen, where several pies were cooling on racks.

“Are you kids hungry?” she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

“We’re going to eat this take-out upstairs.”

“Where’s my chocolate pie, Mom?” he asked, coming up behind her and wrapping both of his arms around her in a playful hug. “I see you have mincemeat for Nigel, pumpkin for dad, and pecan for Tristan—where’s my pie?” He was like a little boy with sibling rivalry, I thought, slightly amused.

“Do you see those baked pie shells over there Trey Michael?” she asked, trying to sound stern.

He nodded, still holding her hostage in his arms.

“Well, I’ve got the chocolate filling cooking right now for one of those. You know I wouldn’t forget your pie,” she smacked at his arm. “If you don’t let me go, that chocolate will scald,” she warned, “then you won’t have your pie.”

He released her with a loud smooch on her cheek. She smiled, and I guessed that she loved the playfulness of her youngest son. I asked Susan if she would share her chocolate pie recipe with me. She was delighted that I'd asked and said she would make sure to copy it down for me before we left.

I called Gina to see what she and Ian were doing over the holiday. She said that Ian’s family was coming in from out of town so we agreed to get together after the first to exchange our gifts.

Trey and I ate our take-out and wrapped gifts while we watched television in his room. I decided to wrap his presents when he wasn’t around, although he was sticking to me like glue. I figured I'd have a chance on Christmas Eve when he went with Clive to cut the tree.

As we lay in bed that night, totally spent from our busy day, I was curled against Trey. He was almost asleep. “Trey,” I said, tentatively.

“Hmm?” he responded.

“You're middle name is Michael," I said.

“I know," he replied with a chuckle.

“So if our baby’s a girl, I want to name her ‘Treyla Michaela,’ what do you think?”

“I think she’s
really
going to hate her mommy…”

Chapter 49

Trey made himself scarce on Christmas Eve day, which allowed me the opportunity to wrap his gifts. I then spent time in the kitchen with Susan making Christmas cookies. She baked, I decorated, and we talked and talked. I wanted to know things about Trey and she was more than happy to tell me.

“You know Trey is eight years younger than Tristan,” she said, smiling at a particular memory that must have surfaced. I nodded, dusting a stocking-shaped cookie with red sprinkles.

“Well, it was almost like Trey was an only child with the gap in their ages, and I know he probably was a bit more spoiled as a result, but he’d follow Tristan around like a puppy. I’ll never forget this one time; Tristan had recently turned 16 so Trey would have been seven, not quite eight years old. Clive and I had bought Tristan a used pick-up truck for his 16th birthday. Tristan was proud of it; he kept it pristine, bought a tonneau cover for it, put a new sound system in it and everything. Well, Tristan had a girlfriend, Kate, who he'd been seeing for a while. Anyway, this one evening in early summer, Tristan and Kate drove out to Steele Creek Park,” she giggled at the memory.