At No Time || Bruno Mars

18

"Damn," Trystan chastised as flurries of flour managed to stop short of her apron and settled on the breast of her T-shirt, blanketing the red letters of Michael Jackson's name. She blamed her unsteady hand on the apnea of culinary skills, which she enjoyed on a weekly basis during college but had slowly given up until she craved something sweet.

Brushing off the powder, she turned her attention back to the cookbook in front of her, the page giving the instructions of how to make strawberry cupcakes. Trystan finished cracking eggs (managing not to prick the flour with any egg shells) when her phone rang.

Using the cleanest edge of her pinky, she tapped the screen. "Hey, Mom."

"Hi, honey. How is everything?"

"Everything's going swell. Got a little bored so I'm making some cupcakes."

"How can a hit maker like you get bored?"

"Trust me, Mom, it happens."

Yvonne giggled. "So, how's Bruno?"

"Wow, Mom, I'm great thanks for asking."

"I already asked how you were!"

"Your only concern should be me, though," Trystan pouted and she heard her mother laugh aloud.

"Girl, just answer the question!"

"He's fine. Much better than before actually. He's still a little stiff, but he's coming around."

"Mm mm mm." Trystan could just see her mother shaking her head. "It's still hard to believe that boy has grown up to be someone so hard-nose. You know how many times June gave me permission to pop him if he was acting up?" Yvonne chuckled. "That little boy used to be some trouble!"

"Yeah, he's definitely not that guy anymore. It's a shame. He may have been annoying but that was way better than being a robot. I don't get it, Ma." Trystan paused her preparation to lean against the counter. "How can a person change so much? Bruno used to be the type of guy that loved life and lived it to the fullest and now . . . I don't know. I don't see how his fiancée can stand it."

"Why do you care what his fiancée thinks? Didn't you tell me on our last call that you think he could do better?"

"I was just wondering," Trystan quickly amended. "She's the one who'll have to deal with it, not me. It's just strange, y'know?"

Yvonne made a noise of regard before reiterating, "Well, you did say he was getting better. Probably has something to do with you."

"Me?" Great—first Neal, now her? Trystan wasn't a fairy godmother. She didn't think her appearance in L.A. had affected Peter has much as others tended to claim.

"Yeah. He's loosening up a bit because he sees some Brooklyn in you—something familiar. I'm keep trying to tell you guys New York is where the heart is!"

"Ma, we are not going to have this conversation again!" Trystan laughed.

"I'm serious! L.A. is too far away from here!"

Trystan could only shake her head. She knew despite her mother's allowance of letting her daughter live her own life, she'd do nearly anything to persuade her to stay closer to home.

Trystan wouldn't admit it, but Peter was actually doing a lot better than she let on. It'd been almost three weeks since she forced him to dance with the others, and since then, she'd seen him smile more than when she'd arrived in Los Angeles. He was more talkative, which Trystan still couldn't fathom, and put in the most ideas. She wouldn't go as far as to say he was unguarded, but anyone could notice the change in him. He's getting married in a few months; that has to be the reason he's so excited, Trystan reasoned.