Free Layers Peeled by Lacey Silks

other part couldn’t resist munching up another piece
of garlic bread. Luckily I was able to grab one before Tristan
snuck me away, and I mouthed a “thank you” to Olivier who bowed his
head just a fraction.
    The gratitude
in his eyes made me smile, and I hoped he didn’t know I was
pregnant. I wouldn’t want him to think it was my hormones doing all
the eating. I truly enjoyed the food.
    My mother sat
in a leather chair near a crackling fireplace. I’d never been in a
home with a real fireplace; you know, the kind you actually add
wood to instead of flicking on a switch that miraculously turned
the gas on. The warmth seeped through the home and the smell of
smoldering wood brought back so many memories. I saw my mother
getting lost in her thoughts too, the before memories: the
happy ones when Dad was alive.
    Olivier
brought in the platters from the kitchen and placed them on the
coffee table, for which Puss and I were extremely thankful.
    Tristan opened
a bottle of wine and poured it for everyone.
    “Non-alcoholic.” He tilted a different bottle toward my glass.
    “Of course,” I
smiled. It warmed my heart to know he was always looking out for me
and the baby.
    “So, when is
the wedding?” Mr. Cross asked.
    I think my
face resembled a ghost’s. Wedding? I had barely gotten used to the
fact we were having a baby and finding out I owned a new house with
Tristan.
    “Dad, this is
the twenty-first century. You don’t have to be married to have
children.”
    “No grandchild
of mine is going to be born out of wedlock.”
    “John!” Mrs.
Cross scolded.
    “What? Is it
too much to put a ring on it?”
    I wondered
whether Mr. Cross knew he’d quoted a song. It made me chuckle on
the inside.
    “Yeah,
Tristan, put a ring on it.” Emma scrolled through her iPhone and
played the song, giggling, then turned toward me, “Can I be your
maid of honor?”
    “Uhm...” I
looked to Tristan for help but he appeared as dumbstruck as me.
    “Well, aren’t
you going to raise this baby together?” Mr. Cross asked.
    “We are,”
Tristan replied, “but why don’t we settle in with the idea of
having a baby before you have a priest over, dad?”
    “Good idea. We
can discuss the wedding date over dinner,” Mr. Cross said as if he
weren’t leaving the house today until we gave him a wedding
date.
    “How about we
enjoy dinner and not put too much stress on the kids?” Mrs. Cross
asked, gently squeezing her husband’s hand.
    “Whatever you
choose, we’ll support you,” my mom added. “But let me be the first
to tell you both, I think you’ve found a soul mate in each
other.”
    Everyone
hushed. Tristan looked at me with dumbfounded puppy eyes. Did he
think we were meant to be? Did I? At that moment I was sure we had
plenty to discuss. My heart ached at the thought that Tristan might
not think of us as forever, the way I did. Was it too much for him,
too soon? Pushing him away or scaring him was the last thing I
wanted.
    My head cocked
to the side as I tried to see what lay beneath his hazel eyes. Like
he’d hid something inside him, layers deep, and I’d need to peel
each layer off before I got to the truth. And if there was anyone
who was good at solving a crime, it was me and Laura. Somehow, I
needed to involve my friend more in my life so we could figure out
what ached Tristan Cross. And how come I was so calm about it all?
I wasn’t one of those girls who had a scrap book full of wedding
dresses, color-coordinated accessories, and sample flower bouquets.
I’d never thought about my wedding because I’d never considered
sharing my life with anyone. I’d been preoccupied with school,
work, and our safety, and marriage sort of fell on my list of
priorities at the rank of “non-existent.”
    “Why don’t you
get married?” I overheard Emma ask her brother. “I want to be a
real aunt.”
    “It’s
complicated,” Tristan said.
    Was it? Again
I questioned where our relationship was going. We’d never