But Clive insisted. “So?”
“I—uh…yeah. I met someone, and well, he’s separated, but it’s really, really fresh, and he’s got a son about your daughter’s age, and it’s—”
“Complicated.”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, man.” Clive squeezed Tristan’s shoulder. “Why don’t you come by for dinner tonight and talk to Lynn about it? She’s good at this stuff. And she’s been on my ass about inviting you over for months now. What do you say?”
Tristan was deeply touched. He couldn’t imagine going home to an empty apartment and having another meal alone. It tortured him to hear Rain and Pip’s voices next door. To be excluded. Alone. “Lynn wouldn’t mind? I think it’s a little short notice, no?”
“She loves company and I’m the cook in the house, so it’s no big deal.” Clive stepped back to the door. “Come on, Trist. It’ll do you good. And it’ll do my son good to know that his dad isn’t as conservative as he believes I am. Okay?”