Watching Trin by Freya Barker
Chapter 14
Trin
“How’d you sleep?”
I was just stepping out of the shower when my phone rang. Bodhi’s name came up, launching butterflies in my stomach.
Crazy, I’m forty-two, words are my bread and butter, and yet I currently can’t find a single one. I imagine that slightly raspy voice in my ear might sound the same if he was actually here, waking up beside me. There’s an intimate quality to the question coming from his mouth.
It doesn’t help that I’m barely covered by the towel I wrapped myself in.
“Trin?”
“I’m here,” I finally croak. “I’m sorry, I just stepped out of the shower. I slept well, thanks.”
It’s Bodhi’s turn to fall silent. I hear him blow out a big breath before he speaks.
“I called for a reason, but now all I can think about is you naked and wet.”
A delicious little shiver runs through me and I look up, catching my reflection in the steamed-up mirror.
“Bodhi…”
“That’s what I imagine your voice would sound like if I were there in person, exploring every inch of you.”
His voice is almost a whisper, and in the mirror I can see the skin on my chest flush a darker pink.
“Bodhi…” I repeat, like a stuck record.
In the background I hear the overhead system crackle to life with a call I can’t quite make out.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
I don’t think I’ve heard him swear before. Oddly, the fact makes me smile. A sign he’s as human as the rest of us makes him more real, more relatable.
“You’re still at the station,” I conclude.
“Yeah, I’m going to have to run, but I want to meet you for breakfast.”
I can hear he’s on the move.
“I have to get Tuck off to school.”
“I’ll text you when I get back from this call.”
“Okay. Be safe.”
“I will.”
Not even Tucker’s morning mood can spoil mine as I cheerfully browbeat him out of bed and brew my caffeinated coffee. I tried—and failed—to get him to share how his first day back had been yesterday afternoon. I try again now he’s chomping down on the scrambled eggs and toast I made him.
“Those other kids back at school yet?”
I ask in that totally fake, casual voice I need to use if I have any hope of getting an answer. I don’t even look at him, keeping my hands busy washing the few dishes. Any other tone, any sign of genuine interest, and the turtle my son has turned into will duck its head back under the protective shell of silence and disdain.
“Yeah,” is the monosyllabic response I get.
“Are they in your class?” I test my luck.
“Jake is. Nigel is a year ahead.”
When I glance at him over my shoulder, I see his face set in a frown as he stares out the window.
“Anyone give you any trouble?” flies from my mouth before I can check it.
Too inquisitive. Immediately his eyes dart my way.
“Why would they?” he fires back defensively.
“I don’t know.” I shrug quasi-disinterested as I turn back to my dishes. “I figure the whole incident is all over school by now.”
“Exactly. Suddenly everyone wants to be my friend,” he grumbles.
I shake my head, glad he can only see my back. Typical that a dumb, dangerously hair-brained idea to steal a raft and barrel down a bunch of rapids in the middle of the night, and almost losing his life, would elevate my son to hero status with his peers.
Was I ever that young and stupid?
Then I remember being head over heels for Johnny Usoro in high school. Hair dyed black, self-administered eyebrow and lip piercings, and pentagrams on his forearms he carved himself with a penknife during science. He was, at the time, the epitome of a bad boy and secretly worshiped by all because of his fuck-it-all attitude.
“Is that a bad thing?” I ask my son cautiously as I turn to face him.
“It is when they called you a dirty mutant before.”
My momma bear leaps to the surface.
“Who called you that?” I almost spit out.
“Geeze, chill, Mom.”
His words do nothing to settle the hot burn of indignation surging through my veins, but he doesn’t give me a chance to react before he deftly changes the topic.
“I’ve gotta go, but are we going to visit Grampa today?”
It’s a surprisingly effective tactic, the mention of my father promptly deflating the bubbling snit I had going on.
“We’ll go Saturday. The suggestion is to give the new residents a day or two to adjust to their new home.”
He doesn’t say anything but nods as he—without prompting this time—brings his plate to the kitchen. I step aside so he can slide it in the sink.
“I need five bucks for lunch,” he says over his shoulder as he heads down the hall.
“I thought you made lunch after dinner last night?” I call after him.
He turns with a sheepish look on his face.
“Was hungry before I went to bed.”
My phone vibrates once on the counter by the stove and I make a grab for it.
Bodhi: Pickled Egg on Main. 8:30?
I remember going to that place with Vic and Pops a few times when we were growing up. I had no idea it still existed. I haven’t been out much since coming back to town.
Me: I’ll be there.
Then I head for the front hall where Tuck is shoving his feet in his sneakers, and fish my wallet from my bag, handing him a ten-dollar bill.
“Save the rest for tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
He rewards me with a grin and darts out the door. I watch him running for the corner, hanging on for dear life to that little glimpse of light only ten bucks bought me.
When I can’t see him anymore, I duck inside and run upstairs to run a brush through my hair, splash cold water on my face to get rid of the pesky blush forming on my cheeks, and swipe on some lip gloss. Back downstairs, I do one last check of my appearance in the hall mirror, shrug into my jean jacket, and grab my bag and keys before darting out the door myself.
*****
Bodhi
“Did you miss me?”
Jeannie calls out at me from behind the counter when I walk into the Pickled Egg.
That last job was a car fire that took us all of fifteen minutes to take care of. When we returned to the station, the next shift was already there so instead of hitting the shower at the firehouse to wash off the smell of smoke and gasoline, I ended up stopping at the trailer first.
Still, I’m a couple of minutes early.
“Missed your breakfast burger,” I return jokingly.
“You wound me.” Jeannie slaps her hands to her chest feigning injury.
“You’ll live.”
“Staying this time?”
“Yup. Start me up with a coffee.”
She places a menu on the counter in front of her.
“Here, come sit. Keep me company.”
“Actually, I’ll grab that booth if you don’t mind.”
I point at the empty one in the far corner. No way I want to sit at the counter when I share with Trin what I found out from Jay. Not with Jeannie and her propensity for chatter within hearing distance. Within an hour the information would be traveling through town. I’m pretty sure Jay is expecting me to keep what he told me to myself.
And here I am, waiting for Trin so I can share it with her, but I loved hearing the passion in her voice when she mentioned wanting to do a story. Things haven’t been easy for her since we met and perhaps working on this article could serve as a distraction.
The little bell on the door rings as it opens and the woman who has dominated my thoughts comes walking in. Backlit by the sun outside, the riot of strawberry blonde hair forms a halo around her head. Even with her face shaded, I can tell the moment she spots me. Her body gives an almost imperceptible little jerk and then her feet start moving in my direction.
“Hey,” she says when she gets to the booth.
I get to my feet and cup her face for a kiss.
“Well, what have we here?”
Jeannie appears behind Trin with her eyebrows up to her hairline as she looks between us.
“Could you get us another coffee?”
It’s as friendly a dismissal as I could come up with, and it seems to work. Trin slides in the booth across from me and leans over the table.
“Who was that?” she says in a low voice, her eyes following Jeannie to the coffee machine.
“A friend of my sister’s. At least she was, now she’s a bit of a busybody. Her parents own this place.”
“Ah.”
I notice she’s on her way back with a mug.
“Let’s get an order in,” I suggest, sliding the menu across the table. “I’d like to minimize her visits to the table.”
I have to whisper the last bit because Jeannie is closing in.
“Here’s your coffee. So,” she says with a smile for Trin, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around. New to town?”
Knowing there’s no chance she’ll leave us alone without satisfying some of her curiosity, I quickly introduce them.
“Trin, this is Jeannie Anderson. Jeannie, meet Trin.”
“Trin? That’s certainly an unusual name.”
“It’s short for Katrina.”
They shake hands and I know Jeannie isn’t done when she settles a hip against the table.
“So how are you liking Durango?”
Trin glances at me with a bit of a smirk before answering.
“Not much has changed.” She looks at Jeannie. “I actually grew up here. Moved away after graduating high school but now I’m back.”
“You went to high school here? I don’t remember—”
“Hey, Jeannie?” I interrupt. “We’re kinda hungry. Mind if we order?”
“Sure, of course. The usual for you?”
“Please.”
“What is your usual?” Trin asks me but Jeannie answers.
“Breakfast burger and home fries.”
“That sounds good to me.” Trin hands her the menu. “Make that two.”
When Jeannie is out of earshot I straighten in my seat.
“Should’ve known better than to suggest this place.”
“Pops brought us here a few times. I remember the food was good.”
“Still is. Listen…” I reach over the table and grab her hand. “Before she comes back, I bumped into Detective Jay VanDyken at a call. He mentioned he’s looking into the body we pulled from the river and wanted me to tell him what I know. He also had a few interesting details I thought might be helpful for your story.”
If my reward is the bright smile she shoots me, it was well worth it. The next moment she’s digging through her bag, coming up with a notebook and a pen.
“Ready,” she says, as she scribbles Jay’s name at the top of a blank page.
I take a sip of my coffee and relay the details about the car and the suspicion it may not have ended up in the river following an accident.
“Also, the girl had evidence of blunt force trauma to the back of the head, which is more likely the result of foul play.”
Her head pops up from the notebook where she’s been keeping notes.
“Girl?”
“Yeah. He said likely late teens or early twenties. They haven’t identified her yet, though. They’re waiting for lab results.”
“And you said the car license was last renewed in 2001?”
“Yeah. In March of that year.”
She makes a note and drops her pen on her pad, looking up at me with a grin.
“Thanks so much, this is awesome. It gives me something to put my teeth into.”
Glad to see her excited, I’m leaning over the table to plant a kiss on that smiling mouth when two plates are slid on the table.
“Two breakfast burgers with home fries,” Jeannie chirps as I sit back in my seat. “Other than a coffee top up, can I get you anything else?”
“It looks amazing,” Trin says, eyeing the sizable amount of food. “I don’t think I could handle anything else, but thank you.”
After topping up our cups, Jeannie heads to the next table doing the same, and we dig into breakfast.
“Any word on how your dad’s settling in?” I ask after taking a sip of coffee, sliding my empty plate to the side.
“I called the home on my way here. They said he had a restful night and was having breakfast.”
“Good to hear.”
“Yeah. It’s a little weird not having him around the house, but if this is better for him—safer—then I’m at peace with it.”
After settling the tab at the counter—I won that one—I reach for her hand as we exit the restaurant and hold on until we get to her Jeep.
“You’re tired,” she observes when I try to stifle another yawn.
“Yeah. I should probably head home and get some sleep.”
She leans her back against the driver’s side door when I step into her space. Bending my head, I rub my nose against hers.
“I’ll give you a call later, okay?”
What I’d really like to do is show up on her doorstep later, but she has a kid, a family that’s still adjusting, and I don’t want to turn into a stalker. I haven’t been to the gym in a while and I really need to start looking at some real estate, so I’ll focus on that.
“Yeah, okay.”
I give her a kiss, too brief, but it’s enough of a taste to last me until my head hits the pillow.