Watching Trin by Freya Barker

Chapter 16

Trin

“What are you doing?”

I’m pulling last night’s dirty dishes from the dishwasher when Vic comes walking into the kitchen. Breakfast and lunch dishes for today have already been washed, dried, and put away, but the water in the sink is still warm and I don’t want to waste it. Or so I tell myself.

“Dishes.”

“Right,” she says closing in behind me. “Or you could just run the dishwasher.”

“It’s fine. It helps me think.”

“Hmmm.” She rests her chin on my shoulder and peers out the window. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the view now, would it?”

I decide that question doesn’t require a response, so I stay mum. Denial would be futile anyway.

Outside, Bodhi straightens up from bending over the frame of the dirt bike. His back is to the window and the shirt he’s wearing stretches enticingly over his broad shoulders. It’s almost as good a view as that of those worn jeans tightening over his excellent ass when he was bending over.

“Your fingers are pruning,” Vic comments before diving into the fridge for a bottle of water. “I’m heading over to see Pops; do you need me to pick up anything on my way home?”

“Nothing that can’t wait for my grocery run tomorrow.”

“Okay, text me if you think of something.” She leans in and drops a peck on my cheek. “Try to be a little less obvious. Also,” she adds before I can launch an objection. “Tuck and I plan to pig out on pizza and watch Marvel movies, so don’t hurry home tonight.”

The thing I hate most about my pale skin is that damn blush I feel heating it. There’s no way to hide when your face is a billboard for your emotions. I try to ignore Vic’s chuckles as she walks away.

I force myself not to look out the window again until I hear the front door close.

As promised, Bodhi showed up after lunch to work on the bike with Tuck, and with an almost chaste kiss for me, disappeared outside. I’ve been finding things to do in the kitchen since then, ignoring the list of vehicles Hayden emailed me this morning.

She came through, but the list is pretty long and I’ll need to do some data prioritizing. Vehicles local to Durango and immediate surrounding areas I’ll look at first, but I can’t dismiss the possibility the car came from elsewhere in Colorado.

I was also able to access the local newspaper’s archives yesterday. Someone put a great deal of effort into digitalizing content going back to 1995, and I was particularly interested in the police blotter. I already did another scan for missing persons, but it netted me little more than I’d already dug up. I should probably go back to reading the blotter to see if anything pops up in or after March of 2001 that stands out. It’s hard to believe a body in a car ended up in the Animas River in the middle of town without anyone hearing or seeing something.

Glancing up, I catch Bodhi coming toward the back door.

“Hey, Trin, do you by chance have any white vinegar?” he asks, sticking his head in the door.

“I’m not sure. I can have a look.”

I duck in the pantry and scan the shelves without luck, but eventually find a large bottle by the cleaning products in the laundry room.

“What do you need it for?” I ask, handing him the vinegar.

“To soak rusty parts of the engine.” He grins at me. “Are you nervous?”

“Nervous?”

“Yeah, about dinner. You’ve been doing dishes since I got here. I thought maybe it was nerves.”

“No, I…”

I stop, having no idea how to respond to that. Either way I look like the fool I am.

Apparently, he’s not expecting an answer, as he tags me by the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss that makes me forget what the hell we were even talking about.

“I’m teasing,” he says when he releases my mouth. “I can’t stop looking at you either.”

It takes a few seconds for his words to register by which time he’s already walking away. I close the door, shove the stuff I haven’t cleaned yet back in the dishwasher, and turn it on. Then I head for the study where my laptop and a list of cars is waiting.

At some point Vic comes home and pops in to tell me about her visit but, otherwise, I have my nose to the grindstone until Bodhi knocks on the doorpost.

“Vic says it’s okay for me to use your bathroom and clean up. After that, are you ready to go?”

He’s holding a bag with what I presume to be clean clothes.

Shit, I should probably change as well.

I look down at the lounge pants and well-worn T-shirt I’m wearing. Not really fit for dinner with his family. Should I dress up? I take a mental stock of my wardrobe, which isn’t much to write home about, but I think I may have a pair of black jeans somewhere.

The nerves I wasn’t feeling earlier announce themselves as I surge up from my chair.

“How dressy do I need to be?”

A hint of panic must be audible in my voice.

“You’re fine as you are,” he reassures me, but I’m already yanking open the armoire holding my limited apparel. “It’s just a casual family dinner.” He holds up his bag. “This is a clean pair of what I’m wearing now, if that helps.”

“It does.”

“Okay, give me five minutes,” he says before disappearing.

I hear his footsteps going upstairs as I rummage through the closet looking for my black jeans. When I finally find them, I pair them with a plain, fitted dress shirt, leaving it untucked. Then I duck into the downstairs bathroom to check my appearance and brush on a bit of mascara and some lip gloss, pulling out the messy bun I’ve had my hair in all day. Thank God for good hair. It may look like a wild nest in the morning, but it’s shiny, there’s plenty of it, and right now it tumbles in waves over my shoulders.

It’ll have to do.

I check in with Tuck, who is playing some game on TV, and mumbles a distracted, “Later,” before I walk into the kitchen where Vic is finishing up her order for pizza on the phone. I can hear Bodhi coming down the stairs.

“No need to rush home,” Vic manages to impart with a smirk seconds before Bodhi walks in the kitchen.

When we walk out of the house, he grabs onto my free hand until we get to his truck. In the other one I’m holding a bottle of wine.

“You know you don’t have to bring anything,” he says, opening the door for me.

“Can’t show up empty-handed.”

I get in the passenger side and he leans in, a quick brush of his lips against mine.

“Stubborn.”

“Polite,” I fire back, getting a grin in response as he shuts my door.

Getting to his parents’ house—a regular two-story house west of Main Avenue—is only a five-minute drive. Still long enough to whip those nerves back into a frenzy. I’m not sure why, I’m not usually a socially anxious person. Besides, I already know Nira. It’s not so much his father, but his sister I’m uneasy about meeting. In my experience, women—especially younger ones—are decidedly more critical of other women.

It’s silly. Why do I care what she thinks of me? Bodhi is the important one and he seems to like me just fine. Or maybe that’s just it; he thinks enough of me to want to introduce me to his family and I don’t want him to be disappointed.

We pass by what is left of the Pickled Egg. Vic told me about the call yesterday morning when she came home. Crazy to think a place that’s been around for decades is possibly gone for good. Apparently, the woman I met at breakfast on Thursday, Jeannie, and her parents had been at the restaurant after hours working on some new menu items when a fire broke out in the kitchen. Luckily, Jeannie had just stepped out to get a few things at the City Market but her parents weren’t that fortunate and had to be rushed to the hospital.

Vic said the father didn’t look too good when Bodhi pulled him out. I’ve been wanting to ask, but remembering what he said the other day, about it being difficult to talk about some things in his line of work, I didn’t want to pry.

He pulls the truck up along the curb—there are already two vehicles in the driveway—and comes around to open my door. That little hint of chivalry I can’t help but appreciate, even though I’m quite capable of opening the door by myself. It’s an attentive gesture showing I matter to him and I think it’s sweet.

So is holding my hand, which he does again as we head up the walkway.

It sends a message I’m still wrapping my head around.

* * *

Bodhi

It doesn’t surprise me when the door swings open before we even reach it, revealing Anika with a cheesy grin on her face.

Mom probably told her I was bringing someone for dinner and I have no doubt my sister was peeking through the blinds. She has no shame and is blatantly checking Trin out, who is trying to dislodge her hand from mine under the scrutiny.

“Move aside, brat,” I tell Anika, who is blocking the entry. “Trin, this nosy person is my baby sister, Anika.”

I put my hand on the small of her back and give her a little nudge. Trin holds out her hand for my sister to shake.

“Your hair is gorgeous. What products do you use?”

In her easy disarming manner, Anika hooks an arm through Trin’s and leads her into the house, chattering away. That’s why her business is so successful, Anika has never met a stranger in her life and people naturally gravitate to her. My mom is the same way, except a little less exuberant.

I take after my dad, more laid-back, more cautious, and definitely quieter. He’s just getting up from his favorite chair to greet Trin, who my sister is already introducing. I don’t bother trying to take over.

Dad’s eyes meet mine over Trin’s head. One eyebrow lifts slightly and one corner of his mouth twitches. While Trin is dragged into the kitchen, I walk up to him.

“She’s pretty,” he mumbles. “A bit timid, though.”

I bark out a laugh. The idea anyone would mistake her for timid is funny.

“Hardly. She’s just not a bulldozer like you’re used to with Mom and Anika.”

“Are you talking about me?”

My sister walks back into the living room alone and straight over to me, giving me a hug. She must’ve left Trin with Mom.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

My stomach starts to rumble at the smell of familiar spices coming from the kitchen.

Trin’s already been put to work when I walk in and bend down to kiss Mom’s cheek.

“How long ‘til we eat?”

I try to lift the lid off the Dutch oven but she smacks my hand.

“Help your sister set the table and it’ll be sooner,” she instructs me while Trin snickers at my expense.

It’s like time hasn’t passed since we were growing up. In this house we’ll always be kids.

Ten minutes later, food is on the table and we dig in. It’s funny how even after almost two decades cooking for myself, my mom’s food still tastes better.

Anika brings up the fire at the Pickled Egg and mentions Jeannie stopping by the salon last week.

“I heard her father isn’t doing too well,” Mom contributes.

“He wasn’t in good shape when I got him out,” I admit. “He was in the kitchen where the fire originated. Hog found her mom disoriented in the bathroom, but she was able to walk out with just a little assistance.”

Under the table I feel Trin put her hand on my leg and I cover it with mine.

“I assume Jeannie will be at the hospital. Maybe I’ll stop in tomorrow, the salon is closed tomorrow anyway,” Anika announces and Mom is quick to jump on board.

“I’ll come along. See if there’s anything they need.”

It’s not until after we clear the table and I’m stacking the dishes in the dishwasher I bring up the house.

“By the way, I put an offer on a house yesterday.”

“What?” Mom swings around to me and I grin at the astonished look on her face. “Where?”

“Up on County Road 250. Hang on, I took some pictures.”

As I pull my phone from my pocket and hand it to Mom, I look over at Trin who is putting leftovers in Tupperware. She meets my eyes and smiles when I lean a hip against the counter beside her. I haven’t really had a chance to tell her yet, but I guess this works too.

“Let me see!” Anika homes in on Mom, leaning over her shoulder to have a look.

“Have you seen it?” Mom asks Trin, who shakes her head.

“Not yet.”

“Can you afford that?” my filterless sister wants to know.

“Wouldn’t have put in an offer if I couldn’t. It’s called saving up, Sis, you should try it.”

She sticks out her tongue at me and Trin starts to laugh.

“You two are no different than Vic and I.”

“Who the hell is Vic?” Dad pipes up.

“That’s her sister, Chuck. Remember, I told you?”

Mom shakes her head at him, but it’ll slide right off his back, like everything else does.

“Vic as in Victoria Paige?”

“Yes, do you know her?” Trin asks Anika.

“Sure do, she comes into the salon from time to time. She was one of my first clients when I first opened up shop,” she confirms.

“That’s my sister.”

“Small world.”

“Even smaller than you think. She’s on Engine 3 with your brother,” Trin says, a smile dancing in her eyes.

“Sounds like you two were destined for each other, then. You’re connected from every angle,” Anika concludes, grinning at us.

I watch the pretty blush darken on Trin’s cheeks and slip my arm around her waist. Then I bend down to drop a kiss on her forehead.

“Don’t think we could’ve avoided each other if we tried.”

“When will you know if the offer was accepted?” Dad asks, completely oblivious to the sweet moment, as he takes the phone from my mother and scrolls through the pictures.

“Tomorrow by six.”

“Should’ve called me, I could’ve had a good look at it.” He points at a picture. “Looks like that roof needs work. I hope you didn’t end up buying a lemon.”

“Chuck!” my mother exclaims, punching him in the arm.

I stifle a grin. I know he’s just disappointed I didn’t ask for his expertise. For what that’s worth.

“Cap went with me, Dad. Figured I’d ask him since he recently redid his whole house.”

He respects my captain but still grumbles a little.

“I am gonna need your help with the landscaping, though. It needs some TLC but I have no idea where to start.” Instantly his eyes brighten up. Gardening is more his speed than construction. “Word of warning, though, it’s a lot of work, there’s quite a bit of land.”

By the time Trin and I leave half an hour later, Anika has a new customer, Mom smiles happily, and Dad is wiping the dust off his gardening books.