Star-Spangled Secret Page 2

  “They’re not really tantrums though, are they?” Katie shifted in her seat. “That’s why I think Saint Agnes’s program will be so good for him.”

  “Yeah. Me too. Something’s got to change.”

  “With Jerm?” Katie asked.

  “With everything!” Alyssa burst out. Then she winced and squeezed the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry. It’s just…”

  “Everything?” Katie asked gently.

  And Alyssa found herself telling her big sister everything. “I love Mom and Dad, I really do. I owe them so much for everything they’ve done for me. It’s just...they can be frustrating. Jeremiah isn’t like Dusty or Andrew, so I don’t think Dad knows what to do with him. And Mom spoils him like she thinks a grandmother should, and that would be okay if she was just his grandmother. But because we live with them, she’s one of his primary caregivers!”

  Alyssa took another deep breath, trying to calm her heart. But it didn’t work. “With my job, I’m working all hours—babies don’t come between 9AM and 5PM, after all—and if I didn’t live here, I’d have to figure out some kind of babysitting for when I have to get up and leave in the middle of the night. So it’s awesome that I can always rely on Mom and Dad to be here for Jeremiah. But…”

  “But you need your own space?” Katie asked quietly

  “Oh man,” Alyssa groaned, scrubbing her hand over her face. “I would love to move out. I would love to have the money to move out— and don’t you dare offer to pay for an apartment or something for me!” She glared at her sister between her fingers.

  Katie shrugged. “We haven’t sold my house yet. Now that we’re moving, Kenneth and I were debating keeping it as a rental. I was just going to offer it to you.”

  Alyssa sighed. Katie’s house was adorable—three bedrooms with a cute backyard—and she would love it. If she could afford it. “That would be amazing, but then what would I do about Jeremiah? Him being in school is going to really help my finances, since I won’t have to pay for it, thanks to you. And I’ve been thinking about going back to school—”

  “That’s great! For what?”

  Alyssa shrugged, not even sure she was ready to put the plan into words. “I kind of have this vague idea of getting a degree in nursing in order to be a midwife. Or at least get certified. Robyn needs another set of hands for multiple births.”

  Katie smiled encouragingly. “I think that’s a great idea, and with Jerm in school full-time, totally possible. Do you know what else you need?”

  Alyssa frowned at her older sister, knowing there were about a thousand different ways to answer that.

  Katie held up her hands, palms out, defensively. “I know. I know you don’t want to hear this...but you need a partner. You’re a strong, independent woman, and I’ve always admired that. But the reason living with Mom and Dad has been so great, is because you do need someone else in your life. Another caregiver for Jerm, and a support person for you. Why don’t you think about dating again?”

  “Because I’m thinking about going back to school! Because I’m thinking about my son, who has behavioral problems, finally getting the help he needs! Because I’m thinking about trying not to tick off my family when I explain that I need my own space or I’m going to go nuts! I absolutely do not have time to start thinking about a boyfriend too.”

  Instead of being alarmed at her outburst, Katie chuckled and reached for the discarded fork. Despite her earlier claims, she picked up a big piece of the strawberry cake. “Fair enough.” She shrugged. “Just remember you have people who love you,” she said before she popped a piece of the cake in her mouth.

  Alyssa stifled her sigh. Katie was right. She needed help from someone who was as invested in Jeremiah’s future as she was, someone who would share the emotional burdens and joys. She did need a partner. But Alyssa didn’t have one. From the moment she’d found out she was pregnant, she’d done this alone, with only her parents’ help. Things would have been so much easier if…

  She forced herself to push that thought aside. Jeremiah was going to be six next month. That meant it’s been six years and eight months since she—or anyone else—had last seen his father. Sure, things would’ve been a lot easier if he’d stuck around. But as much as she’d loved him—and, since she was being honest with herself, still loved him, despite him up and leaving like that—she could see he had been miserable in Quinn Valley.

  So yeah, she missed him. Or at least, she missed the idea of him. What might have been, had he been a different person, and not someone who ran away from his problems.

  Alyssa groaned again and pinched the bridge of her nose once more. A temper tantrum, worry about her future, and now reminiscing about the most beautiful mistake she’d ever made?

  Worst birthday ever.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Tripp strolled down the main street of Quinn Valley, resisting the urge to shove his hands into the pockets of his jeans and hunch his shoulders. The last time he’d been here, he’d been a stupid kid getting into trouble and not caring about the consequences.

  And so very, very angry.

  The last time he’d been here, he’d been a sullen bitter husk, wrapped around a white-hot ball of emotion. But now, he’d come to terms with himself and was a much better man.

  A better person.

  So he held his head high and his shoulders back as he walked, noticing what all had changed over the years he’d been gone. New stores and restaurants had popped up, taking the place of old ones which had closed. Some of his favorites were still open though, and he was glad he’d parked the rental down a side street so he could take this walk down memory lane.

  “Tripp Weston! As I live and breathe!”

  This was the moment he’d been dreading, but the reason he’d come to town this morning. He’d come back to Idaho to face his past, and he knew he was bound to run into someone who remembered him.

  Taking a deep breath, he turned, expecting to see an old teacher or one of his parents’ friends. He didn’t. The woman who stood on the porch of the bright purple Victorian-era house was someone his family had only known because of him and his actions. She was dressed in a long skirt, three or four shawls—in this heat?—and so many bangles and earrings, she looked more than a little kooky.

  Tripp inclined his head politely. “Miss Ambrosia.”

  The woman bustled down the steps. “I never expected to see you back in town! Have you come to apologize?” The way she peered at Tripp behind her glasses made her look bug-eyed.

  He swallowed. This was it. He’d done a lot of stupid stuff as a teenager and had gotten into a lot of trouble for it. He vaguely recalled one afternoon, when he’d been about fifteen, and had dropped some cherry bombs in her garbage bins and left a huge mess for her to clean up. He’d done it because he was angry at all the adults in his life, and she was an easy target. When Mom had found out, she’d lectured him until he’d exploded on her, and then his punishment had been even worse.

  But he’d never apologized to Miss Ambrosia.

  No time like the present.

  “Yes, ma’am.” It was the truth. He’d come back to the area to face the mistakes of his past. He was a different man now, and was ready to own up to his sins. Honestly, however, he would have never expected Ambrosia to recognize him after all these years. The army had done wonders for him physically, as well as mentally.

  “Well? Don’t just stand there.” When the woman waved one hand imperiously, her bangles sounded much like a brass band falling down the stairs.

  “I’m truly sorry for lighting those fuses and causing you that trouble, Miss Ambrosia. I was a stupid kid, doing stupid things. I knew better, and I did it anyway. Do you forgive me?”

  Ambrosia closed her eyes, held her hands up at shoulder height with her palms out, and exhaled mightily. As she did so, she flapped her hands and pushed them away from her body, as if pushing out energy. Then she sniffed, smiled happily, and nodded at him. “Yep! You’re forgiven!”


  Looks like in the years he’d been gone, Ambrosia hadn’t gotten any less kooky.

  “Now, young man, show me your palms.”

  Tripp glanced around, wondering if any of the other passersby noticed anything wrong with this scenario. Was she going to check to see if he’d washed his hands? Cleaned under his fingernails? It was no wonder he was a little hesitant as he lifted his hands towards her.

  Like a great big, loud bird, she descended upon him and snatched up his hand, leaning completely over his palm and humming as she traced the lines. “Yes, yes! This is wonderful news! Just as I suspected!”

  Tripp was compelled to prompt her. “Are you... Are you reading my palm?”

  She clicked impatiently. “Of course I am, boy! Your future is obvious, right here in the palm of your hand!”

  She seemed to be waiting for something, so Tripp asked politely, “Oh really?”

  “Yes!” She pointed to various identical parts of his hand while she narrated. “This means you’ve become very rich. I’m so glad for you. Also, you’ll meet the love of your life very soon! See that bit over here? The way the lines split, means you’re in very real danger however. Using my vast knowledge, I can read the warning signs, so you don’t need to worry.”

  Danger? He’d spent the last several years defusing bombs in Afghanistan. So he was smirking a little when he asked, “What am I in danger from?”

  “I’m glad you asked!” She wiggled his middle finger back and forth. “See that wrinkle? Rodents. I suspect something fluffy, like a chinchilla. If anyone offers you a chinchilla, don’t take it. And for goodness’ sake, don’t eat them! They taste terrible.”

  Tripp’s eyebrows were up around his hairline now, and he tried not to laugh. “Don’t eat chinchillas, got it. Anything else?”

  “Yes. It says you’ll own a private plane and spend the rest of your life jetting around the world.”

  That sounded extremely unlikely, since no matter how many times he did it, Tripp couldn’t stand air travel.

  “You want to check the other palm, just to be sure?”

  Ambrosia hummed in agreement and scooped up the other hand. This time, she sucked in a startled breath, and peered closer at his open palm. She glanced up at him with a frown, then turned her attention back to his hand.

  After a much longer wait, he prompted again, “Do you see anything interesting?”

  “Have you had a hand transplant? This palm is entirely opposite your other one. You’re not left-handed are you?” Without giving him time to answer, Ambrosia pushed on. “This palm claims everything on the other palm is totally wrong, you’re about to encounter a lot of heartache, you’re on the right track to achieve your goals, and you’ve already found love.”

  She pulled back and frowned at Tripp from behind her glasses. “I don’t know which one to believe.”

  Gently, Tripp pulled his hands out of her grip. “I’ll take the second one, if it’s all the same to you.” He’d spent his whole life dealing with heartache and could handle a little more. Being on the right track to achieve his goals sounded ideal.

  And he was well aware he’d already found—and lost—love.

  When Ambrosia shrugged, she sent all her bangles and earrings clattering once again. “Fair enough. If you have two different futures, I guess it makes sense to choose which one you prefer. Although personally, I would go with the very rich, plane-owning one, since I’ve never cared for chinchillas.” She rummaged around in the pocket of her skirt and pulled out something. “Here. This is for you.”

  Instinctively, he held out his hand as she dropped a chunk of clear crystal into it.

  “This is quartz, for healing. Your hand says you need a lot of healing. I mean, your heart line. Also, I saw you had a little paper cut or something.” She pointed at the stone in his hand. “Either way, this should help!”

  She flounced off, and Tripp exhaled on a burst of laughter. He hadn’t been sure how his visit to Quinn Valley would go, but that had been a wild way to start.

  He shoved the stone in his pocket and headed down Main Street again. Ambrosia might not have known what he needed healing for, but Tripp knew. He was about to confront his parents for the first time in six and a half years. He hadn’t seen or contacted his family since the day he stormed out. That day, he had told them they’d never hear from him again, and he’d held to that promise…

  Until now.

  He wasn’t sure what kind of welcome awaited him at his parents’ house, but he would find out soon enough. When he’d first returned to Idaho, he’d planned on going straight there. But this morning, when he’d woke up in his hotel room, he hadn’t been able to face them at that moment. Not then anyway. He’d needed some time for reflection, some time to think about who he’d been back then, and who he’d become now.

  That was the whole point of this trip. He wanted to stand in front of his parents a different man. A better man. He wanted to apologize for what he put them through, and tell them they’d been right.

  He had the ability, and the goodness, inside him the whole time. It had just taken him being motivated enough to change.

  His attention and thoughts were distracted by a sign attached to the front of a small shop.

  Cool Beans?

  This was a new place, as he knew it hadn’t been there when he’d left. He was beginning to suspect the town had changed almost as much as he had. Still, he could go for a cold drink.

  He stepped inside and made his way to the counter, where he ordered a milkshake. He was just turning to decide if he would rather take it with him or sit at one of the small booths, when the chimes over the door rang, and he instinctively looked over.

  And instantly felt as if he’d been kicked in the chest.

  It was her. It was Alyssa McIver, in the flesh. The flesh he’d very much dreamed about for the last six and a half years. In his mind, in his memories, he’d built her into some kind of goddess, and knew he would recognize her anywhere.

  But he just stood there, holding his milkshake, as he watched her order an iced coffee and pay. She moved to the pickup area, and that’s when she noticed him for the first time.

  While his heart might’ve leapt with excitement at the sight of her, it seems as if hers had done the opposite.

  The moment she recognized him, the blood seemed to drain from her face. Tripp actually took a step forward, he was so concerned she might pass out. But she shook herself, opened her mouth, closed it again, and stared at him.

  “Hi, Alyssa,” he said softly, knowing how stupid and simple it sounded after all this time.

  If Tripp had been a different person back then, he would have married Alyssa McIver. She was everything he’d needed, everything he’d wanted, and more. She had been his best friend, and right when everything had gone completely wrong, his lover.

  If the men in this town had any sense, she would be married, with two or three kids by now. He glanced at her hands, which shook as they held her purse, but he didn’t notice a wedding ring.

  Behind her, the barista called out her name, and she whirled to pick up her coffee. When she turned back to him, there was a wariness in her pale green eyes he’d never seen before.

  “I, uh... I didn’t expect to see you in town,” she finally offered.

  He tried for a grin. “I had some things that needed taken care of.” Like seeing if you really were as amazing as I remembered. “Do you want to sit down? Catch up?” he asked.

  Part of him admitted he was just trying to delay the inevitable showdown with his parents. But he couldn’t deny how often he’d thought of her in the last half-dozen years, and how much he’d like to know how she was doing.

  Her gaze flicked nervously to the door. “I...don’t know if I should. I’m just heading home from work and…”

  When she wavered, he pushed his luck, knowing she never could resist his smile. “Please?”

  Yep, from the way her eyes widened and her lips formed that little “oh” shape, she remembered
how good things had been for them.

  He led the way to the table, and even held out her chair for her as she slipped onto it. He set down his milkshake on the table—still untouched—and took a deep breath.

  “First of all, I need to apologize. When I left town all those years ago, I was sure there was nothing left for me here. I cut ties with my family, and in my mind, that meant I’d cut ties with the entire area. I was so angry, angry at everyone. I was halfway through basic before I realized I’d run off and left without saying goodbye to you, and I’m sorry for that.”

  Throughout his apology, she fiddled with her drink, glancing up at him, then away once more. But finally she nodded, her movements jerky, as if she just wanted to end the conversation.

  But he wasn’t done. “I should have written to you then, at least, but I convinced myself it would be stupid. I knew somebody like you—smart and caring and beautiful—was probably already dating someone else. I figured if I popped back into your life, it would just be more drama you didn’t need. Plus, I still ’hadn’t forgiven my family…”

  “And I reminded you of them?” she finished in a soft voice.

  That hadn’t been exactly what he wanted to say, but he supposed it was what he meant. She’d always been good at knowing what he meant.

  “I’m sorry,” he offered again.

  She didn’t acknowledge his apology, but met his eyes just briefly. “Is that where you’ve been? The army?”

  He smiled again, and liked the way she flushed slightly before looking away.

  “Yep. I went straight from basic to specialist training, which wouldn’t have happened if Mom and Dad’s lawyer hadn’t gotten me down to a misdemeanor instead of a felony before juvie. I owe them for that.” He shook his head, getting back to answering her question. “I spent two tours in Afghanistan.” He knew he was bragging, but he was proud of what he’d managed. “Corporal Weston, that’s me.”

  Her brows had gone up during his recitation, and for the first time, she looked him square in the eyes. “That’s really great, Tripp. I’m happy for you that you’ve accomplished so much. I really am. I always knew you could.”