Shayna looked over the menu of the restaurant, grateful that nothing was too expensive. She had no doubt that Tristan would offer to pay for their meals—and she’d have no choice but to let him—but at least she knew it wouldn’t be a large bill.
“What would you like?” Tristan asked, his gaze focused on Timothy who sat beside him in the booth.
“Can I have the cupcake pancakes? Even though they’re not on the kids’ menu?” he asked. “They look so…good.”
“Definitely,” Tristan said. “And bacon?”
Timothy’s gaze shot Shayna’s way briefly before he nodded.
“Sounds good. I think I’m going to have the blueberry pancakes myself.” He leaned down closer to Timothy. “And bacon.”
The two grinned at each other before Tristan said, “What do you think your mom will have? Pancakes too?”
Timothy shook his head. “She likes French toast.” Her son gave her a sneaky look. “And bacon.”
Tristan laughed and said, “Guess we’re going to need lots of bacon.”
When the waitress returned a short time later, they were all ready to order. Timothy was thrilled to give his order, his excitement growing when he realized that he could have chocolate milk as well. They’d just had pancakes two days ago, but the boy loved them more than all other food.
As their meal progressed, Shayna found herself watching the two seated across from her, an outside observer. Normally, Timothy was quite reserved around anyone but her and Lisa. His reserve had levels, but usually it was only when it was the three of them that he truly let his guard down.
During the meal, the two talked about a lot of scientific things—including a bit of science fiction. Much of it went over her head because it wasn’t something she’d had a whole lot of interest in. She’d just managed to pass the one science course she’d taken before dropping out of high school. Lorne had at least managed to graduate high school, but academics hadn’t come easily to him either.
As she watched Timothy interact with Tristan, Shayna had to wonder if this was what he would have been like if Lorne had survived that drug-fueled attack. Would the four of them have shared a birthday meal together like this? Timothy turning eight and their little girl just three years old.
Shayna looked away and stared out the window. The small flame of anger that always flickered within her, flared as if a drop of gasoline had fallen on it. Anger that they were there with this man—nice as he might be. They should be there with Lorne. Timothy’s father. Her husband.
Her appetite fled, but she pushed aside her angry thoughts and tried to eat what was on her plate. In the end, she managed to get through only half of it. Timothy, however, managed to eat all of his bacon and almost all of his pancakes.
“I have a gift for you, Timothy,” Tristan said as their meal neared its end.
Shayna bit back a protest as he reached into the pocket of his shirt and pulled out a small envelope. He handed it to Timothy then sat back, meeting her glance for a brief moment before looking back at her son, as if knowing what she was thinking.
Timothy’s head bent as he opened the envelope and slid out its contents. She watched as he read it over, waiting for a clue as to what Tristan had given him. His head jerked up, a big smile on his face.
“Thank you,” he said, nearly vibrating in his seat as he looked up at Tristan. Then he turned his gaze to her. “It’s a family pass to the Manitoba Museum. For you and me, Maman.”
Of all the things she’d expected, it hadn’t been that. He’d taken Timothy’s love of science to heart and purchased his gift accordingly. And it was a gift that included her as well. He’d given Timothy something that would allow them to spend time together. She didn’t want to be, but Shayna was touched by the thoughtfulness of the man and his gift.
“It’s not just for the Manitoba Museum, it’s also for the Planetarium and the Science Gallery. And you can go as often as your mom will take you.”
“Thank you for the gift,” Shayna said. “That really is thoughtful.”
“I know that we enjoyed going to the museums when we were younger. A family membership helped us through the early years when it would have been expensive to have to buy admission for all of us.”
“Did all of you enjoy going?” Shayna asked.
Tristan chuckled. “No. Kenton didn’t care much for it because it didn’t revolve around hockey. Gabe didn’t like going because it forced him to have to curtail his enthusiasm.” He paused then a corner of his mouth quirked up as he said, “Okay, so maybe it was really just two or three of us who liked going.”
Shayna knew without a doubt that Timothy would love to go—frequently. And while she didn’t have the same fascination with science that he did, she would willingly accompany him just to see the joy and excitement on his face as he experienced the wonders the museum held for him.
Not long after Timothy had opened his card, the waitress brought the bill and containers for their leftovers. As she had known, Tristan handed over his card without even looking at the total. Shayna wondered what that must be like. There were times—particularly close to payday—when she punched in the code for her debit card, or the single credit card she had, with her fingers crossed.
Money had always been tight, but not as tight as it was now that she was a single mom. Neither she nor Lorne had had a high paying job, but together, they’d managed to create a small, comfortable home for the three of them. Now, she was reliant on a friend for the home she and Timothy had. Without Lisa’s income, they would not have qualified on just Shayna’s salary for a townhouse in the co-op, and they would have been forced to live in a much worse area.
When she allowed herself to think too much about it, fear and anxiety about her ability to provide for Timothy began to erode what little faith she had. Shayna couldn’t fault Tristan for his middle-class upbringing. She’d had the same. The difference was that the pay-off to stay within that household had been too high for her.
When she’d first told Lorne her story at the tender age of fourteen, he’d said she was like Cinderella, plagued by an evil step-mother. He’d said it in jest, adding that he thought she looked like a princess, but Shayna had always felt the truth in those words.
It had been how she felt at the time. Like she was a slave in her own home. Made by her step-mother to do more within the home than any fourteen-year-old should have had to, and yet still be expected by her father to keep her grades up.
If her grades slipped because chores in the home prevented her from getting her homework done, her dad got mad at her. If she focused more on her homework and didn’t do her chores, her step-mom had gotten angry. It felt like she was in a no-win situation, and the stress was often more than she could handle. And that stress hadn’t even included the verbal abuse she’d taken from her stepmother regardless of whether she’d gotten her work done or not.
It had been too much, so she’d fled, knowing that Child and Family Services wouldn’t see abuse or a bad home environment if they came to visit. Her stepmother would have made sure of that.
“Thank you for the pancakes and the family pass,” Timothy said, making Shayna proud of him for his manners. “I can’t wait to go to the museum.”
Tristan smiled. “You’ll have to tell me all about it.”
After Shayna had boxed up what remained of her meal and Timothy’s, they left the restaurant and climbed into Tristan’s car. As he backed the car out of its spot, Shayna found her gaze caught by his hands on the steering wheel. Though definitely masculine, they were more slender than Lorne’s had been.
Shayna looked away, not sure why she was comparing anything about this man to Lorne. Her husband had been incomparable. A big man—tall, broad, and muscled—he’d been known to use his size when wading into a fray to separate those who were feuding. His hands had carried the scars of the battles he’d fought in his teens. Some of them on her behalf.
Tristan was his opposite in appearance though there was a similar friendliness about him. The two probably would have been friends. Lorne believed that everyone was a friend until they proved otherwise. Shayna, however, tended to believe the opposite. Which was why her circle of friends had shrunk exponentially with Lorne’s passing.
Lorne’s home situation—the reasons CFS had removed him—had been truly horrifying. It was a wonder that he had come out of it as stable and happy as he’d been. From the moment he’d rescued her a few days after she’d run away, he’d appointed himself her protector. He’d tried to convince her to go home, but when she refused, he’d stayed at her side.
The one time she’d been picked up by the cops and sent home, he’d gone back into foster care, landing with the family who had exposed him to a faith he’d come to embrace. They’d even allowed him to stay past his eighteenth birthday, but he’d left the safety of their home to come to her when she’d run away again.
That she had reached adulthood without being assaulted, at the very least, or murdered like other girls on the street had been, was in large part because of Lorne and the way he’d protected her. Protected her. Then loved her. Then married her.
But then he’d left her on her own with their son, grief-stricken over the loss of her husband and unborn daughter.
Swallowing down the waves of emotions that rushed toward her, Shayna tuned back into the conversation going on in the car. Would there ever come a time when the door to the past wouldn’t open at some point each day and try to suck her through it? It was like those science fiction movies that Lorne had liked to watch, where the door to space opened and sucked out anything not firmly tethered.
Her single tether, which kept her from being sucked through that door, was Timothy. Her love for him strengthened that tether daily, but it didn’t stop the past from reaching for her, at least once each day.
When they reached the church, her car was one of only a handful still in the parking lot. Tristan pulled into the spot beside it, then got out. He helped Timothy climb out, then carried his booster seat to her car where he put it in the same spot he’d taken it from before they’d left earlier.
When Timothy was buckled into his seat, Tristan shut the door then turned to her. Before she could say anything, he said, “Thank you for allowing me to treat the two of you to lunch. I thoroughly enjoyed chatting with Timothy. He kind of reminds me of myself when I was that age. I daresay it’s the most intelligent conversation I’ve had in quite awhile.”
Shayna couldn’t help but smile at that. “I think Timothy would say the same.” She hesitated. “Thank you. For lunch and for the family pass to the museum.”
“You’re welcome,” Tristan said as he tipped his head slightly. “I’ll see you next week.”
Shayna nodded then slid behind the wheel of her car. She hated to think of starting it while Tristan stood there because of the racket it was going to make. But while he had stepped back, Tristan made no move to get in his own vehicle. Resisting the urge to glance at him, Shayna twisted the key and said a prayer of thanks when the car started on the first try.
As she pulled away from the church, Timothy began asking how soon they could go to the museum. And though she was truly grateful for the gift of the family pass, for a moment, she wondered where she’d find the time or—on a more practical level—the money needed for parking at the museum.
Tristan poured himself a cup of coffee then walked over to the large picture window that looked out over the park that lay across the street from the apartment building where he lived. Though he didn’t mind winter too much, the first major snowfall of the season always came as something of a shock to the system.
As he took in the white landscape, he couldn’t help remembering the sound Shayna’s car had made when she’d started it that day at the church a few weeks back. And even though he wasn’t anywhere near an expert mechanic and actually knew precious little about cars, he’d also noticed that the tires had appeared to have very little tread.
Now that there was snow on the ground, his worry grew. The streets would be slick, and with colder weather not too far in the future, engines in poor condition would struggle to start, and smooth tires could prove hazardous. Would that mean she’d have to take a city bus with Timothy if they needed to get around?
Tristan took a sip of his coffee, staring at the snow as his mind churned for a solution that might work for Shayna. He had no doubt that if he turned up with a better car for her, she’d refuse him outright. When she’d realized what he’d given Timothy, he’d seen the moment she’d wanted to refuse the gift. But the war had been brief, and in the end, fueled no doubt by love for her son, she’d chosen instead to thank him for the pass.
He wasn’t sure that the result would be the same if he tried to hand over a set of keys. Was it possible that he could once again use her love for her son to get her to accept the gift of a car?
Letting out a long breath, Tristan turned from the window. He finished the last of his coffee then put the mug into the dishwasher before pulling on his jacket. Shouldering the strap of his laptop bag, he left the apartment and headed for the back door of the building that led to the parking lot.
“Did you enjoy the exhibit?” Tristan asked when the class was over that next Sunday.
Timothy had told him the previous week that Shayna had promised to take him to the museum for their latest exhibit. Tristan was glad to hear that his gift was being put to use.
“It was so cool,” Timothy exclaimed before going on to share in detail what all he’d seen there.
When Shayna showed up a short time later, she sank down in the chair beside Timothy, their coats in her arms. She gave Tristan a quick smile before her gaze settled on her son.
“Is he telling you all about our little excursion?” she asked, looking up at Tristan again.
“He is. It sounds like you guys had a fun time. Or at least he did.”
Shayna smiled again as she said, “While I enjoyed some parts of it more than others, spending time with Timothy is always my favorite thing.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Tristan said. And then, because he just couldn’t help himself, he asked, “Is your car holding up okay in the snow and cold?”
The smile slipped off her face as her brow furrowed. Her gaze dropped to Timothy, as she handed him his coat. “It’s doing fine.”
Tristan realized he’d overstepped. Had he ever done that before? Usually he thought long and hard before speaking—especially when he knew that what he wanted to say could be sensitive to whoever he was speaking to. Why had he blurted that out, knowing how she was likely to receive his question?
“We need to go, sweetheart.” Shayna got to her feet and helped Timothy with his coat. Once his coat was fastened, she took care of her own. Giving Tristan a smile that was clearly forced, she said, “We’ll see you next Sunday. Have a good week.”
“Shayna, wait.” Tristan held out his hand toward her. “I’m sorry. I know that’s none of my business. I was just…worried.”
“You don’t need to worry about us,” Shayna said, her voice tight. “We are not your responsibility, nor are we a charity case.”
Before Tristan could respond to that, she gripped Timothy’s hand and turned toward the door. Tristan shoved his hands into his pockets as he watched them walk away. Timothy cast a brow-furrowed look over his shoulder as he followed his mother through the wide doors of the gym. Tristan managed a smile to let him know that regardless of what had transpired between him and his mom, nothing had changed between the two of them.
He was such an idiot.