Rory was about to ring the bell to Tristan's place when a woman about the
same age, with long curly brown hair stepped next to her, key in hand. "Are
you here to see Tristan?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm meant to meet him this morning, I'm Rory," she said as she offered her hand to shake.
"He said you would be coming round. I'm Catherine, but everyone calls me Cookie," she answered as she accepted the offered hand.
With that she opened the door and ushered her inside.
As soon as they stepped inside Cookie started calling in the direction of what was obviously bedrooms. "Tristan! It's eleven in the morning, why aren't you up yet?! Damo, Gwen and Viv, you had better be up and dressed – I'm leaving in ten minutes with or without you."
Three children in various states of undress came stumbling into the room, "Sorry Mom, but you know that Dad let us watch a movie late last night and we all slept in," said the oldest, a boy of about seven or eight. The two other girls, one about six, and another about four, stood looking as innocent as they could manage.
"Why are you still talking? Why aren't you getting dressed? You only have eight minutes left." With that they ran of to their rooms.
"Cook, do you really think it necessary to yell at such an hour of the morning?" Rory turned to face a barely dressed Tristan, now older and more mature looking, but still as good looking as always. "I hardly think that's good manners – Rory! Oh God! Uhhh… Hi"
"Hi," she replied, and, as much as it was hard to do with this man standing in front of her, wearing only boxers shorts, she kept her eyes on her feet.
"I'd better get dressed." He said as he left from the room.
Rory just knew her face was incredibly red and she tried to keep her face out of view from the woman standing beside her, the mother of Tristan's children, and, quite obviously, his wife.
"Good Lord! How can he think to lecture me about bad manners when he comes out of his room in front of company dressed like *that*! The man is insufferable!"
"That's what I always found when we went to school together."
"That's right, you guys went to school together, so I'll take it he hasn't changed, then. He was as bad then as he is now?"
"I don't know him really well now, and I can only really judge from a conversation on the phone, but I would say he was worse then," she told Cookie with a smile.
"Did you really know me back then, Mary?"
He was back. His blonde good looks, and small smirk made her heart beat faster than it should be and she was struck with the sudden feeling that she shouldn't have come. She was going to spend the whole time she was here lusting after a married man, a man married to a woman who, although loud, seemed nice and that Rory could see herself becoming friends with.
"I see you've matured so much, Tristan."
"I don't really see the value in it, really. And the kiddies seem to like it."
With that, the three children came out all dressed and ready for what looked like a day of Sunday sport.
"We're heading of now," Cookie said to Tristan, "be a good boy," she grinned at him as she gave a gentle slap to his cheek. She turned to Rory, "it was a pleasure meeting you, and I'm very sorry that you'll have to put up with this buffoon. I'll pray for you. Let's go kids!"
They ran out the door, with screams of, "I bags the front seat!" following.
"Kids," Tristan laughed.
"Cookie seemed nice," Rory said, hoping that starting a conversation about 'the wife' would help keep her mind of how good he looked.
"She can be – if she wants too."
"Well, she must have wanted too, because she was nice. Not the kind of girl I always thought you'd marry, but nice."
"You thought about who I would marry?"
"Well, you know, when I heard Paris talk about you, I wondered if you would have a wife and what she would be like."
Tristan steered Rory to the couch, "ex-wife."
"Really?" Rory asked, cursing God for making her voice sound almost as happy as she felt at that news.
Tristan smiled and sat close to her, "Really. We're still good friends and all, but we split about three years ago."
"Oh." Rory smiled inwardly. He wasn't married, so in her dreams when Tristan wanted to be with her, she wasn't going to be that terrible woman enticing a married man.
Authors note: I know this is a bit of an odd place to stop, but I wanted to get this part up. And I wanted to change the point of views, I'm thinking that the next part is going to be in Tristan's POV(just a thought, I may change my mind). I hope you're enjoying my fic, it's really fun to write!
"Yeah, I'm meant to meet him this morning, I'm Rory," she said as she offered her hand to shake.
"He said you would be coming round. I'm Catherine, but everyone calls me Cookie," she answered as she accepted the offered hand.
With that she opened the door and ushered her inside.
As soon as they stepped inside Cookie started calling in the direction of what was obviously bedrooms. "Tristan! It's eleven in the morning, why aren't you up yet?! Damo, Gwen and Viv, you had better be up and dressed – I'm leaving in ten minutes with or without you."
Three children in various states of undress came stumbling into the room, "Sorry Mom, but you know that Dad let us watch a movie late last night and we all slept in," said the oldest, a boy of about seven or eight. The two other girls, one about six, and another about four, stood looking as innocent as they could manage.
"Why are you still talking? Why aren't you getting dressed? You only have eight minutes left." With that they ran of to their rooms.
"Cook, do you really think it necessary to yell at such an hour of the morning?" Rory turned to face a barely dressed Tristan, now older and more mature looking, but still as good looking as always. "I hardly think that's good manners – Rory! Oh God! Uhhh… Hi"
"Hi," she replied, and, as much as it was hard to do with this man standing in front of her, wearing only boxers shorts, she kept her eyes on her feet.
"I'd better get dressed." He said as he left from the room.
Rory just knew her face was incredibly red and she tried to keep her face out of view from the woman standing beside her, the mother of Tristan's children, and, quite obviously, his wife.
"Good Lord! How can he think to lecture me about bad manners when he comes out of his room in front of company dressed like *that*! The man is insufferable!"
"That's what I always found when we went to school together."
"That's right, you guys went to school together, so I'll take it he hasn't changed, then. He was as bad then as he is now?"
"I don't know him really well now, and I can only really judge from a conversation on the phone, but I would say he was worse then," she told Cookie with a smile.
"Did you really know me back then, Mary?"
He was back. His blonde good looks, and small smirk made her heart beat faster than it should be and she was struck with the sudden feeling that she shouldn't have come. She was going to spend the whole time she was here lusting after a married man, a man married to a woman who, although loud, seemed nice and that Rory could see herself becoming friends with.
"I see you've matured so much, Tristan."
"I don't really see the value in it, really. And the kiddies seem to like it."
With that, the three children came out all dressed and ready for what looked like a day of Sunday sport.
"We're heading of now," Cookie said to Tristan, "be a good boy," she grinned at him as she gave a gentle slap to his cheek. She turned to Rory, "it was a pleasure meeting you, and I'm very sorry that you'll have to put up with this buffoon. I'll pray for you. Let's go kids!"
They ran out the door, with screams of, "I bags the front seat!" following.
"Kids," Tristan laughed.
"Cookie seemed nice," Rory said, hoping that starting a conversation about 'the wife' would help keep her mind of how good he looked.
"She can be – if she wants too."
"Well, she must have wanted too, because she was nice. Not the kind of girl I always thought you'd marry, but nice."
"You thought about who I would marry?"
"Well, you know, when I heard Paris talk about you, I wondered if you would have a wife and what she would be like."
Tristan steered Rory to the couch, "ex-wife."
"Really?" Rory asked, cursing God for making her voice sound almost as happy as she felt at that news.
Tristan smiled and sat close to her, "Really. We're still good friends and all, but we split about three years ago."
"Oh." Rory smiled inwardly. He wasn't married, so in her dreams when Tristan wanted to be with her, she wasn't going to be that terrible woman enticing a married man.
Authors note: I know this is a bit of an odd place to stop, but I wanted to get this part up. And I wanted to change the point of views, I'm thinking that the next part is going to be in Tristan's POV(just a thought, I may change my mind). I hope you're enjoying my fic, it's really fun to write!