Remember When 3: The Finale (Remember Trilogy #3) by T. Torrest Read Free Book Online Page B

his skin. I worked in silence, not knowing what to say. He was angry, and I wasn’t used to seeing him like that.
       But of course he was angry. H e had every right to be.
       I Bactined and Band-Aided his knuckles, then dug out a dustpan and broom from the same closet where I’d found the first-aid kit.
       “You don’t need to do that, ” Trip said as I ignored him.
       I swept up the glass and drywall debris while he gathered the remains of the portrait, depositing it in a spare bedroom, a sheepish expression on his face. We worked in silence, Trip in no mood to talk and me not wanting to say the wrong thing. The mess had been taken care of, but there wasn’t much we could do about the wall at that moment.
       He pulled a new picture down from the spare room, and I used my heel to hammer its nail in the appropriate spot. That must have been enough to break the last of Trip’s anguish, because he kind of laughed as he looked on.
       I held the shoe up and gave it a wiggle. “Girl hammer.”
       When I was done, I slipped it back onto my foot, hung the picture over the hole, and dusted off my hands. “Well, that’s that.”
       He had his hands jammed into his pockets as he nodded his head toward the wall. “Remind me to get someone over here to fix that tomorrow.”
       “Don’t sweat it. I’ll give Rymer a call in the morning.”
       “Rymer’s a contractor?”
       “ Rymer’s a little bit of everything these days.”
       Trip was silent at that, letting the new information sink in. He stood there for a beat, looking embarrassed, his tail between his legs.
       “Look. I’m sorry, Lay. I’m sorry you saw that.”
       I could have used the opportunity for some big psychoanalytic development, some it-wasn’t-your-fault, Good Will Hunting -type breakthrough. But it’s not what he needed from me at that moment. I knew we’d get through it eventually; it just didn’t have to be right then. So, instead of opening my big mouth, I shut up and slipped my arms around his waist for a hug.
       He sighed, running the fingertips of his damaged hand along my back, lowering his lips to the top of my head. “I really am sorry.”
       It had been an emotional day. Nauseated to trepidatious, heart-swelling to heart-breaking. Sad to happy to silly to sexy to contented to furious to remorseful.
       What can I say? It was the Trip Wilmington roller coaster ride all over again. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
       I squeezed his waist and gave him a shy smile. “I know.”
     
     

Chapter 8
    YOURS, MINE AND OURS
     
     
       I took a break from the computer when I heard the troops heading up the stairs. I tended to get lost in a zone whenever I was writing and didn’t even hear the doorbell ring. But nothing could ever distract me from the sound of Lisa in the vicinity.
       My beautiful g oddaughter reached my office first, however, rushing into the room with a squeal, so I spun around in my chair and scooped her up in a big hug. “How’s my sunshine?” I asked, getting a giggle in answer. She tried squirming out of my grasp almost immediately, and I knew that snuggle time would be over almost as soon as it had begun. She was such a little perpetual motion machine. I held her tighter, though, my hand raised in The Claw, threatening a massive tickle. “You know what I want to hear. Don’t make me use this.”
       Julia’s eyes opened wide and her mouth gaped open, pretending to recoil with fear.
       Just then, her twin brother came bounding into the room, appraising the scene and saying, “Uh-oh, Jooya.”
       I gave Caleb a wink and flinched my hand at the stubborn little monkey on my lap, psyching her out. But it was enough to make her scream, “Auntie Layla is my favorite aunt!”
       She squirmed again, so I released her from my clutches and opened my arms to Caleb for a hug. He was dirty and sticky—like all good little boys are supposed to be—and I