My Best Friend's Ex (Daring Divorcees) Read online

  “Diane,” she said with a nod of her head.

  “Callie. What are you doing here?” The older woman, still thin, stood ramrod straight.

  This would be good. If Trevor didn’t know, neither did Diane. “I live here. In the coach house out back.”

  Diane’s already-stony face became impenetrable. Callie withheld a snicker.

  Hannah stepped back and took her hand. “Even if she didn’t live here, Grandma, we want her here. Mom would’ve wanted her here. She’s family.”

  Callie’s throat closed. She couldn’t swallow, could barely suck in a trickle of air. The teen was so much like Lisa. No one stood up for Callie the way Lisa always had. She squeezed Hannah’s hand. “It’s okay,” she whispered. Looking at Diane and then Trevor, she added, “We’re all adults. We know how to put our differences aside at a time like this.”

  She forced a smile she wasn’t sure she’d ever feel again.

  Diane, who would never let her manners be questioned, said with a tight smile of her own, “Of course. You look like you’ve been traveling. We’ve just had dinner. I’ll warm some for you.”

  Trevor touched Hannah’s shoulder. “Go help your grandma.”

  When they were gone, Trevor asked, “Can I get you anything? There’s water or pop, but I haven’t seen anything stronger.”

  So he’d looked. Callie tried to control her glare but failed. “There isn’t anything stronger. After you…”

  He stepped closer. “I wasn’t looking to get drunk.” He stared into her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, the urge was there. I lost my fucking wife, and the call of alcohol was strong. But I’ve come too far.”

  Callie nodded. His navy blue eyes were clear and sincere. She believed him, but she couldn’t hide her wariness.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked.

  “Okay.” She shook her head. The gentleness of his tone crept over her, and tears threatened again. She’d never felt this alone. “I don’t even know.”

  Trevor reached out tentatively and pulled her against his chest. In the warmth of his embrace with his soothing hand on her back, she released the tears and the grief she’d bottled since he’d first called her. Sobs racked her body, and Trevor simply held her tighter.

  She didn’t know how long they stood like that, but no one interrupted them. When she finally pulled away, Trevor’s T-shirt was soaked. She wiped her face on her own sleeve and ran a hand down his torso. “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay. We’re all a mess. I know she was like a sister to you.”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do without her. She’s been the one constant in my life since we were teenagers.”

  “Let’s get you some food. You can tell me about your world travels.”

  Callie felt like she’d just slipped into the twilight zone. For years, she and Lisa and Trevor had been friends. She’d been slightly jealous of Lisa’s relationship with Trevor. After all, they’d all met at the same time, and she and Trevor clicked in many of the same ways he and Lisa had. They’d never treated her like a third wheel, though. Even after Trevor and Lisa had married. But when he’d started drinking more and then they’d divorced, Callie had lost Trevor. She’d had to be there for Lisa.

  Now his simple offer of conversation over dinner transported her to the past, and she realized her friend was back.

  …

  Trevor stood over the sink and washed dishes just to have something to do. Lisa had a dishwasher, and as far as he knew, it worked. But he needed to keep his hands busy. Diane and Gordon had moved into the small guest room yesterday, leaving Trevor to sleep on the couch. Diane had been right about the lack of comfort in sleeping there.

  But there was nowhere else for him to sleep. He couldn’t take Lisa’s bed. He hadn’t even been able to go into the room. He’d walked by, peeked in, and closed the door. Diane had decided what Lisa should be buried in tomorrow, just like she’d decided how the service would run and where they would eat after.

  He didn’t even know what he was still doing here. She acted as if he didn’t exist. They didn’t need him for anything.

  At least when Callie had walked through the door, he’d been able to share some of the disdain Diane spread. Callie was probably the only person in the world Diane disliked as much as she did Trevor. In some ways, even more. If Callie hadn’t convinced Lisa to move to Chicago with her, he never would’ve met her.

  He dried the last dish and was at a loss for what to do next. The kids were up in their rooms. They, too, didn’t seem to have a need for him.

  When he turned, Diane and Gordon stood near the table. “We’d like to talk,” Diane said.

  “Okay.”

  “Outside might be better, so we have some privacy.”

  He tossed the towel on the counter and opened the back door, holding it for them. Diane walked down the stairs and sat on the old patio furniture that Trevor and Lisa had bought once his company started making money. Lisa had had dreams of big backyard barbecues with friends.

  “We need to discuss the future,” Diane began.

  Trevor had expected a conversation about life insurance or handling Lisa’s house, financial things they wanted to keep Trevor away from, but since he didn’t consider a future anywhere with them, he was lost.

  “The children need a stable environment.”

  Oh, fuck, no. “They have a stable environment.”

  Diane held up her hands, and for the first time since the divorce, her face softened. “We love our grandchildren. We just want what’s best for them. Lisa’s been their primary caregiver. She’s done the day-to-day grind of parenting.”

  “I’ve taken care of my children.”

  “You’ve provided for them. You’ve always done that. Even when you were drinking. But children need more than financial security.” She took a deep, wobbly breath. “They’re all we have left of her. Parenting is difficult, and we don’t want you to relapse.”

  “What exactly are you saying, Diane?”

  “We’d like the children to come live with us.” She reached over and patted his hand. “We know you love them. But are you prepared to take on everything? We’re retired. We can give the children the attention they need.”

  Trevor swallowed. As much as his instinct wanted him to rage at her because they were his kids, deep down he knew she had a point. He’d never had to take care of the kids full-time. When they’d been little, Lisa had stayed at home while he’d worked. After the divorce, he’d seen the kids a time or two during the week and every other weekend. Recently, that had dropped off because they were teenagers. They’d wanted to hang out with friends.

  So instead of yelling at his in-laws, he stood and said, “I’ll think about it. But it’s not a decision we’re making without them. Their lives are here.”

  “Children are resilient. As a parent, it’s your job to make the best choices for them, even when they don’t like it.”

  “I’m going back to my house for the night. Tell the kids to call if they need anything. I’ll be back first thing in the morning.” He grabbed his keys and hopped in his truck. For the past two days he’d been squeezing in going to his house to shower and change, but tonight, he’d sleep in his own bed. He needed the space to think.

  For as angry as he wanted to be at Diane, he knew she made valid points. What the hell did he know about being a full-time parent? Lisa had been an excellent mom. She’d always had her shit together, and he’d never bothered to learn any of it. He didn’t have to; she’d had it covered.

  Their kids were good people, and they were smart, in spite of all the ways Trevor might’ve fucked them up.

  He was so bone-tired that he was grateful he’d bought his house in the same general neighborhood as Lisa’s. At first, she’d thought he was trying to keep tabs on her, but he’d gotten the house because he wanted to be close to the kids. Lisa had come to like the idea because the kids could get to his house after school. He’d never had a reason to go to her hous
e.

  She’d spent years making sure he understood they were divorced, but until last year, he’d held out hope that they would get back together. And since then, he’d tried to move on with his life in ways he hadn’t before. He’d started dating but had no one serious in his life. Dating was hard, and not just because so many people wanted to meet at a bar for drinks as a first date. Sometimes he felt too old for that kind of shit.

  He was at the point that he could be around people who drank and be okay—until this week, anyway. Right now, he wasn’t so sure that if someone offered him a beer he’d say no. But he also knew that he couldn’t slip. Not now, with the kids counting on him.

  He stripped on his way to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower. When he got out, someone was pounding on his door. His first thought was Evan and Hannah, but they had keys. So he wrapped a towel around his waist without drying and ran to the door.

  Swinging the door wide without looking through the peephole, he was stunned to see Callie standing on his porch. Her hand was fisted and raised to knock again. Her eyes went wide.

  “What’s wrong? Are the kids okay?”

  She blinked rapidly and opened her mouth. “Uh…they’re asleep. I think.” Her gaze coasted over him and he felt the sudden urge to cover himself.

  Gripping the towel at his hip, he stepped back from the door. “Come in. I’ll put on some clothes. Give me a minute.”

  Chapter Two

  Callie needed a drink but knew Trevor wouldn’t have any alcohol in his house. She felt like a crazed woman, pounding on his door, but after overhearing Diane, she couldn’t let it go. She needed to talk to Trevor. She hadn’t expected to catch him dripping wet and mostly naked.

  She felt ashamed for checking out her dead best friend’s ex-husband, but she was only human. Trevor had always been a good-looking guy, but he’d aged really well. The construction business kept his body built, and sobriety suited him. He had the bulky, toned muscle of a man who used his body every day. Unlike the gray she kept colored on her head, his sprinkling made him looked more distinguished, sexy.

  Callie laughed at her ridiculous thoughts. God, how she wished Lisa were here. She’d laugh with Callie and tell her that it was always okay to look as long as she didn’t touch. Trevor was hers. Until he wasn’t. Because he’d screwed up. Callie’s laugh turned slightly maniacal.

  Trevor came back into the room wearing low-slung sweatpants and a T-shirt. “Are you okay?”

  She shook her head and took a deep breath. “Fuck no, I’m not okay. My best friend is dead, and you’re thinking about letting her crazy-ass parents take her kids.”

  “And something about that was funny?”

  “No.” She rubbed a hand over her face. Jet lag was kicking her ass, so her filter was on the fritz. “I was laughing because you opened the door in a towel and I was thinking how good you look, which made me feel guilty because you’re Lisa’s husband—ex-husband. And then I thought about what she would say about all of it, and the whole conversation in my head was a little sick and twisted.” After the words poured out, she inhaled deeply again.

  “So it was basically laugh hysterically or cry.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Come on. I’ll make some coffee.”

  “Got any decaf? I’m wired enough as it is.”

  “Sure.”

  He led the way into the kitchen, and she sat at the small table. Only two chairs. For some reason, that made her sad. Which almost made her laugh again, because she didn’t even have a table.

  She sat in silence while he made coffee.

  When the coffeepot began to sputter, he took the chair across from her. “Tell me why you’re here. How did you even know where to find me?”

  “I’ve always known where you live. Lisa told me.”

  “Yet she never mentioned that you live in her coach house.”

  Callie shrugged. She knew Lisa tried to keep most of her life away from Trevor. She’d been too worried that she’d take him back. She’d believed Trevor was her true love, but they weren’t good together. The only way to move on was to keep her distance. But saying any of that to Trevor right now seemed cruel. “I overheard Diane telling you that she wants to take the kids.”

  Trevor nodded. Then he rose and filled two cups of coffee. He set a mug in front of her and turned to the fridge. “All I have is milk. No cream.”

  “That’s fine.” She accepted the carton of milk and the sugar he offered. Did he remember how she took her coffee or was he just guessing? She stirred in the condiments. “You can’t do it.”

  “What?”

  “Let her have the kids. You know how Lisa felt about them. She would never want her parents to raise Evan and Hannah.” Her voice cracked on the last part.

  Trevor remained silent, turning his coffee cup in slow circles. Callie knew she needed to convince him. Tonight. She didn’t know why it was imperative to have this discussion right now, but it was.

  “How much did Lisa tell you about her childhood?” Callie asked.

  “Most things, I think.”

  “Then you know how much she hated the way her parents raised her.” She took a sip of coffee. “Her parents and mine were close. Best friends. That’s why Lisa and I were so close. But our parents were controlling in ways that weren’t normal. They told us how to dress, what to do, where to go. We made a pact when we were teenagers. No matter what, we’d look out for each other.”

  “I don’t know anything about your parents, but Diane and Gordon aren’t monsters. It’s not like Lisa cut them out of her life.”

  Like Callie had cut her parents from hers. She didn’t know if Trevor was aware of that, but his comment carried the hint. “You’re right. Lisa was always the good girl. She followed the rules, did what they wanted. The only time she ever went against their wishes was moving to Chicago with me.” She drank more coffee. “Well, and when they demanded she move home with the kids after the divorce.”

  “What?”

  “She never told you, huh? After the divorce, they reminded her that they told her not to move to Chicago. That she didn’t have the capacity to make good choices, as evidenced by her marriage to you. She needed to come home so they could help her.”

  Trevor clamped his mouth shut. He took the news like a punch on that angled jaw.

  “She didn’t talk to them for a full two years after that. For all your faults, Trevor, she never thought of you as a mistake. You taught her to be strong. She always loved you. She had faith you were going to fix yourself and be a good father.”

  He rubbed roughly at his eyes. “You don’t get it, Callie. I don’t know what I’m doing with them. She took care of everything. I don’t know how to do what she did.”

  “So you figure it out.”

  He huffed. “Easy for you to say.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It’s easy to sit there and tell me what’s best for my kids. How I should man up when you have no idea what it’s like to be responsible for other people. The only person you have to worry about is yourself.”

  His words stung, but they were true. Except for Lisa. She’d always worried about Lisa and the kids. “You’re right. I don’t have kids. But I also know how important it is to do what’s right. They’re not my kids, but I love them. What’s more, I know what Lisa would want.”

  “Christ, Callie. What if I fuck them up? She was born to be a mom. How do you know I’m what’s best for them?”

  She softened before continuing her argument. He was scared. “Let me ask you this—after the divorce, did she change her emergency contact information or the beneficiary of her life insurance policy?” Callie already knew the answer.

  Trevor shook his head.

  “That’s because she trusted you.”

  “I don’t deserve that trust. I can’t do it.”

  “Yes, you can. You’re not alone.”

  “The fuck I’m not. What? Are you offering to stay and help?” His lau
gh was bitter. “Going to finally hang up your passport?”

  “Fuck you, Trevor. I travel for work. But I’ve been here. I’ve been a part of the kids’ lives for years. More than just dropping in for birthdays and holidays. I’m one of the emergency contacts for school. Over the past year, I’ve probably had more dinners with them than you have.”

  As soon as she spoke those final words, she regretted them. His face fell. It didn’t matter that she spoke the truth; she didn’t have to be an asshole about it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  He waved a hand. “You’re right. I didn’t even know you were practically living with them. It kind of proves my point, though. I might not be the best thing for them.”

  “No matter what, you’re their dad. They need you far more than they need Grandma and Grandpa. Even if they mean well, which I always doubt, they will crush the kids’ spirit. Everything good that Lisa helped build in Hannah and Evan will fade.”

  “You grew up in that environment, and your spirit seems to be just fine.”

  “Because I fought them every step of the way and escaped the first chance I got.” She’d attempted early on to reestablish a relationship with her parents after she’d moved. She’d believed they would treat her like an adult. Instead they’d demanded she stop acting like a child and return home.

  She tried a different tactic. “What about the message you’re sending them? They just lost their mom. If you ship them off to Indiana, they’ll feel like you don’t want them.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “How would you convince them otherwise?” Callie was clinging to anything she could. She had no legal claim to those kids, but she couldn’t let Lisa down.

  “I don’t know what’s right, but I want my kids to thrive. Like I told Diane, I won’t make this decision without them.”

  Callie was glad he reiterated that and it hadn’t been words thrown at his in-laws. She had little doubt that the kids would choose to stay here.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Callie said, “I really miss her. It’s only been a couple of days, so maybe it’s the idea that I can’t just pick up the phone to hear her voice, but I miss her.”