Chapter 22 Pillow Talk
About 10 minutes after Bobby left, Amy heard a soft knock on her bedroom door.
"Come in," she said.
The door opened and Trey entered the room. Most nights he came by to say goodnight. This was also their time to catch up on the day's events if they hadn't seen much of each other during the day. Amy could tell by the look on his face though, that Trey was not interested in her day. His usually handsome, smiling face was troubled and his soft brown eyes were lacking their usual sparkle.
He sat down on the end of her bed and watched her moving around the room, getting ready for bed. He noticed her eyes were red and swollen, like she had been crying. She cried a lot lately, he knew; some of her tears were for him, some were for Hudson, and some were for her own sadness over the loss of their beloved Laura. Lord knows he had shed plenty of those tears himself. But tonight, Trey had a sense that his mother's tears had come from a different source.
"How was dinner, Mom," he asked tentatively, broaching the subject carefully.
"Dinner went very well," she replied, stressing the 'dinner' part and leaving an unspoken insinuation hanging in the air.
"Grandpa said they had a very nice chat," Trey said casually.
"Oh, good," Amy said relieved. "I haven't spoken with Dad yet, and Bobby didn't look any the worse for wear, so I had already assumed Dad wasn't too hard on him." The two shared a chuckle and a small smile.
Amy ducked into the bathroom, calling out to Trey to tell her the latest on the wine tasting they would be putting on the next evening. Trey filled her in on all the last minute details and preparations as she brushed her teeth and washed her face. After she was done, she grabbed a notebook off her dressing table and they went over the next day's schedule on last time.
Satisfied they were in good shape for tomorrow, Amy set the notebook beside her on the bed and faced Trey. She crossed her legs in front of her, grabbed a pillow and placed it on her lap. She leaned on it and looked at Trey as she spoke. "Well?"
Every since he could remember, his Mom had always been available whenever he wanted or needed to talk. Even after he married Laura, he still found himself sitting on his mother's bed for a late night chat. Since Hudson had been born, the tone of their conversations and discussions had changed from that of son to mother to conversations between adults on a more equal footing with each other. She was still his mother, but Trey was finding her also to be more of a friend now that he was older and a parent himself.
"So, how did it go today? Christy said Hudson took to him right away."
"I think they took to each other right away," Amy corrected gently. "Did she tell you what happened in the kitchen while Hudson was eating?"
"Yes, she did," Trey said laughing. "Did Hudson really sling spaghetti all over your kitchen?"
"I wouldn't say it was 'all over' the kitchen, but there was quite a mess. Seems he spotted your father in the doorway, got all excited and started bouncing up and down like he does; pumping his legs and waving his arms. He forgot about having a loaded spoon in his hand, and well, things got pretty messy there for a minute. I even got spaghetti on me."
"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help," Trey told her apologetically. "These late afternoon phone calls are starting to kill me."
"How close are you to wrapping up the distributorship deal with Jakarta?" Amy was curious; Trey had been working on this deal for six months and they were all eager to have it finished and start selling their label in Indonesia.
"Hopefully by the end of next week. What would you think about going over there with me next month for the big unveiling?"
"Oh, that would be wonderful! I've always wanted to see Indonesia," Amy said excitedly. Then her shoulders sagged and her face fell. "But, what about Hudson? Do we take him with us? That's such a long trip. And now there's Bobby….." she let her voice fade away as she noticed the change on Trey's face at the mention of Bobby's name.
"Don't look at me like that, young man," she told him sternly. "He is your father and he's back in our lives now so that means we have to think about him in our plans, too."
Trey said nothing, but pursed his lips and took several deep breaths. He ran his fingers through his hair and rose gracefully from the bed, giving Amy pause. He moves as gracefully and easily as his father does, she thought to herself in awe. She watched her son pace agitatedly back and forth in front of her bed as he tried to sort out his thoughts and compose his next sentences carefully.
"Mom, are you sure you did the right thing by having him over here for dinner tonight," he finally asked her. Now it was his turn to study her carefully as she answered him.
"I wasn't at first, but I am now," she said.
"But you were crying," Trey began, moving over to kneel next to her at the foot of the bed.
"I know," she said. "What we had to say to each other wasn't easy. It brought back a lot of emotion and anger. He's been through a lot and would have benefitted from having us in his life during some pretty trying times. I had to realize that you missed out on a lot, too. I think you would have loved having a big, strong cop for a dad." She ran her fingers through his soft brown curls and smiled sadly at him. "I'm sorry it took so long for you two to find each other. I'm sorry you missed out on so much because of my selfishness. I'm sorry I never was honest with him in the first place."
Trey took her hand in his and looked earnestly into her eyes. "Why weren't you, Mom?" He raised his other hand and shushed her with a gentle finger to her lips. "And don't tell me I wouldn't understand. I'm a grown adult, I have a child of my own, and I'm now a widower. I think I can handle it, so please, be honest with me, Mom. Why were you so scared?"
She looked lovingly at him and caressed his cheek as she spoke. "You look so much like your father," she said softly. "You walk like him, you talk like him; I'm even beginning to realize you think like him." She sighed softly and continued. "I was scared he wouldn't want me anymore. I thought I wouldn't get hurt as badly if I made the first move and broke it off with him. It wasn't until after I had hung up the phone that I realized just how much I loved him and how much I had hurt myself. Then, I foolishly thought it was too late…."
"So you never called him back," Trey finished the thought for her.
"I never called him back," she agreed, shaking her head sadly.
Trey surprised her then by getting up off the floor, sitting on the bed and pulling her into a hug. "Please don't ever be that foolish again," he said, kissing her on the top of her head. He pushed her back and looked at her. "I now have to raise Hudson without a mother, and it kills me. I hope if someone else comes along, I won't make the same mistake you did. I hope I can jump in with both feet and take the risk. I want you to find someone who is worth the risk." He gave her another hug then stood. "Goodnight, Mom. I love you."
She stood and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks Trey," she said honestly. "I love you, too. Can you ever forgive me?"
Trey walked to the door, then turned and looked at her. He raised one eyebrow and tilted his head to the left, an amused smile on his lips. "I already have, Mom. Couldn't you tell?" He blew her a kiss then slipped out the door.
Meanwhile…..
Bobby arrived home after his dinner at Amy's, his mind a roiling mass of thoughts and emotions. He had taken a big risk opening up to her like he did, and he knew he hurt her deeply, but it had to be done. He felt she needed to know what he had been through and how he could have benefitted from having her and Trey in his life. It felt good to tell her. He had also realized that he would like to have her back in his life. That thought had taken him by surprise and had captured his thoughts for most of his drive home.
It was still his main thought as he moved automatically around his apartment, emptying his pockets, removing his coat and tie, fixing himself a drink. He stopped with his hand on the bottle, the bottle on the shelf. No, no more alcohol tonight, he told himself sternly. He forced himself to close the cabinet, move to the other side of the kitchen, and fix a glass of water instead. He still had some serious thinking to do tonight and he needed a clear head.
He spied his cell phone on the counter. Eames, he remembered. I need to call Eames. She'll be furious with me if I don't, even if I show up at work tomorrow with coffee and her favorite pastry.
He decided to change clothes first, so he grabbed his cell phoned and took it and his glass of water with him into the bedroom. He changed into an old t-shirt that Eames had given him as a silly Christmas present several years ago. It was black and had "I'm with stupid" and a large yellow arrow pointing to the wearer's left printed on the front of it. Every now and then he'd pull it out and wear it, just to show her he appreciated the joke. He slipped into a pair of loose basketball shorts, suitable for sleeping in, and began to collect his thoughts.
He knew she was going to ask him how his visit at Amy's went. He replayed the evening in his mind, carefully sifting through and pulling out the bits he felt comfortable sharing with her. His visit with AJ was nice; eye-opening, but nice. Meeting Hudson, he should tell Eames about that, especially the spaghetti incident in the kitchen; he knew she'd really enjoy that. About his talk with Amy after dinner, he wasn't sure what to say except that they had both been open and honest with each other and still had more to work through and talk about. Maybe he'd even tell her about tomorrow night, too.
He opened his phone and was about to hit her speed dial number when it began to ring in his hand. He stared curiously at the unfamiliar number that glowed on the small screen in front of him. Who could this be, he wondered, pushing a button and raising the phone to his ear.
"Goren," he answered.
"Bobby," he heard a man's voice say hesitantly.
"Yes, this is Bobby," he said, his curiosity piqued.
"Uh, this is Trey. Trey Wainwright," the male voice said tentatively. "I hope it's not too late; you said I could call you. Anyway," he went on hurriedly, "I know you had dinner with Mom tonight and I wanted to see how it went. I hope it went well for you."
"No, it's not too late to call, Trey," Bobby reassured the young man. He was initially taken aback at learning the identity of his late night caller, but quickly realized he had a welcome opportunity to get to know his son just a little bit better.
"Dinner with your mom was nice. We talked; there's still more to talk about, but we made progress. At least, I think we made progress."
"That's good," Trey said softly.
An uncertain silence fell over their conversation, each feeling rather awkward and unsure of what to say next.
"I had thought I might see you this evening, but you weren't around. Trying to give us some privacy," Bobby teasingly asked.
Trey chuckled. "No, I had to work late. The winery is finalizing a distribution deal in Jakarta. The time difference means I have to stay late sometimes for teleconferences. I'm sorry about that; I had wanted to be there."
"Jakarta? Wow; that's great. Have you been there?"
"Yes. I have to go back in two weeks. I'm trying to get Mom to go with me…" he let his voice trail off.
"But…" Bobby encouraged Trey to go on.
"But, she said she can't because now there's you in the picture," Trey stopped suddenly and Bobby could hear the frustration in his voice.
Bobby sighed deeply and ran his free hand through his hair. He rose from the bed and began to pace in his bedroom. "Trey, I'm sorry. Would you like me to talk to her?"
"I want you to leave her alone!"
Bobby was silent.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I mean, um…part of me did, but, I….oh, damn! I don't know!" He could hear Trey take a deep breath, so he waited for the young man to continue.
"Oh, God! She'd been crying! I came home, went to check on her, and she'd been crying," Trey said vehemently. He was now pacing in his bedroom, gesturing with every word. "What did you say to her," he demanded.
"We had some difficult things to talk about and share with each other. I wasn't intent on making her cry, hurting her feelings, but if she and I are going to try to build a life together, we have to be honest with each other about what has happened. We each have 25 years to catch up on," Bobby explained.
"She deserves to have you treat her well," Trey stated forcefully.
"She deserves the truth," Bobby said back, equally as forceful. He heard Trey's sharp intake of breath and sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you."
Trey was silent before he answered. "I suppose I deserved that. Here I am telling you to treat her nicely and with respect, and you deserve that same treatment from me. I guess I'm so used to being the only man in her life; I've come to feel like her protector and defender. Having you here tonight, knowing she wants to reach out to you, well, it hurts, you know. I feel like she's interviewing you to be my replacement. I know that's not true, but I can't help feeling that way."
"Trey, I am sorry. This can't be easy on you. Hell, it isn't easy on me. I had no idea you existed. You, at least, had the advantage of knowing that somewhere in the world you had a father. I'm at a disadvantage here. I'm afraid we're all going to be a little sensitive about things for a while. Why don't we call it a night and meet for lunch? I know you and Amy will be busy tomorrow with the wine tasting, but how about Saturday?"
"You know about the wine tasting," Trey asked him.
"Yes. Your mother invited me to join her. She gave me the information. She also told me that a suit and tie similar to what I wore this evening would be appropriate."
"You know where the Mansfield Gallery in SoHo is?"
"No, but I can look it up when I get into work tomorrow. So, how about lunch on Saturday?"
"I can't. Laura's funeral is Saturday," Trey said sadly.
"When and where," Bobby asked.
"Wha-? No, you don't have to be there," Trey insisted.
"Yes, I do. I'm your father. Your wife was just killed. You need to have your family there with you. ALL of your family. I'll sit in the back; you won't even know I'm there."
"Do you have any idea how that would go over with my mom? If she finds you sitting the back, she'll have your head on a platter. No, you can sit in the pew behind us. That way you're there, but not so obtrusive. Would that work for you," Trey asked.
"Okay, I can handle that. I think it's a very smart compromise. Just tell me when and where and I'll be there."
Trey gave Bobby the information about the funeral, and the two men made plans to have lunch on Sunday. They told each other good night, hung up, and finished getting ready for bed. Trey was satisfied that Bobby wasn't as big a threat to his life as he had feared, especially after finding his mom so upset. Bobby was satisfied that Trey had grown up to be a fine young man, one of whom any father would be proud.