Watching Trin by Freya Barker
Chapter 8
Trin
I agonized for about two minutes after Vic went to bed before pulling up Bodhi’s number.
It took him only a few seconds to respond to my text with a simple thank-you.
Yesterday, during his shift, he messaged to ask how Tuck was doing and this morning he let me know he was heading home to sleep but would get in touch later.
The last time I felt this antsy I was in high school, waiting for my teenage crush to call. In an attempt to burn off some of that energy, I started looking into some of the care facilities I pulled up and am shocked to discover how expensive they are. Close to five thousand a month on average. I’ll have to sit down with Vic when she wakes up and crunch some numbers to see if it’s even feasible.
Until we get this sorted we at least have Nira, who agreed to come in the two mornings a week. That alone gives a little relief.
Next there’s the matter of Tuck’s medical bills. I pay for insurance but my deductible is a good chunk of money. I feel a bit sick to my stomach when I pull up my policy. Eight thousand, that’s half of what I have saved up for Tuck’s college fund. I guess I shouldn’t complain, at least I’ll be able to come up with it. Plenty of people end up having to sell their house to pay medical bills.
I had a long talk with him yesterday when Vic was at work and Pops was napping. He swore up and down stealing the raft hadn’t been his idea but even if that were true, he did nothing to stop it. It was a hair-brained idea and I can’t for the life of me figure out what possessed him. He clammed up when I questioned him about the boys he was with. Said they were just kids in his class and wouldn’t say much more about them.
Tuck’s lucky the owner of the rafting place decided not to press charges, since the raft was returned undamaged, and he figured the harrowing experience was punishment enough for the boys. I sure hope so but it doesn’t stop me from worrying about what the hell is going on in Tucker’s head.
When I hear someone moving around upstairs, I close my laptop and head into the kitchen. It’s the first place everyone goes. Almost three o’clock, I should probably start thinking about dinner. I’m about to dive into the fridge to see what I can whip up when my phone pings in my pocket. It’s a text from Bodhi.
Bringing over pizza later. Preferences?
“What are you grinning about?”
Vic pushes me aside so she can get in the fridge to grab a water and takes a big swig from the bottle. I take a second to collect myself.
“Nothing in particular. Bodhi wants to know how we like our pizza.”
Her eyes snap my way.
“Nothing in particular? Please…how dumb do you think I am?”
“Fine. I like him, but we’re just friends. He’s just being a good guy.”
She barks out a laugh. “A good guy who wants in your pants.”
“A good guy who is bringing us pizza for dinner,” I correct her sharply.
“Pizza? Sweet.”
Tuck, who’d fallen asleep on the couch when I went into the study, sticks his head over the back of the couch. He’s in need of a haircut and still looks a little too pale.
“For dinner,” I clarify. “What do you want on yours?”
“Pepperoni and extra cheese.”
I know Pops would probably prefer that too.
“Loaded,” my sister orders.
I quickly shoot Bodhi a message back when I hear Pops from upstairs.
“Margaret!”
For once glad for the distraction, I start moving toward the stairs.
“I’ve got this.”
Vic narrows her eyes at me.
“Don’t think I’m letting you off that easy,” she says in a low voice for only me to hear.
***
For once I’m grateful my father demands all my attention.
I’ve been a bundle of nerves for the past couple of hours. The brief conversation I managed to have with Vic about our options for Pops was only part of the reason. The rest was due to Bodhi.
He’d messaged me back to let me know he’d be here around five thirty and that time is fast approaching. I find myself nervously putzing around the kitchen with no real purpose, other than to burn off my jitters.
“Stop fussing,” my sister hisses as she walks into the kitchen.
“I’m not,” I snap back.
She grabs my arm just as I’m about to wipe the counter for the third time.
“Why are you so wound up?”
My mouth drops open as I swing around to face her.
“Seriously? How about because I have a father who walks around like a powder keg about to blow, a delinquent son who barely even grunts at me anymore, and a sister who’s been on my case about a guy I really like, who happens to be someone she works with.” I stop to suck in a deep breath since I ran out of air halfway through my run-on ramble. “So yes, I’m wound up. I’m a little worried he’s gonna tuck tail the moment I introduce him into this mess.”
Vic drops her head back and looks up at the ceiling, and I brace myself for what’s coming.
But she surprises me.
“You’re an idiot.”
“Excuse me?”
She tilts her chin down and pins me with a hard stare.
“You are. He’s already seen every aspect of how dysfunctional we are and he’s still coming over, for fuck’s sake,” she grumbles. “I’ve only known Bodhi for a month or so, but I can tell you he’s not the type of guy to scare easily.”
“Then why were you being a pest earlier?”
She grins and shrugs her shoulders.
“Giving you a hard time. Isn’t that what little sisters are supposed to do?”
I pitch the wet rag I’m still holding at her head but she ducks just in time.
“Girls!”
Pops’s booming voice comes from the living room. He’s looking at us, shaking his head. Just like old times.
Vic and I turn to each other and burst out laughing at the very moment the doorbell rings.
*****
Bodhi
The heat from the stack of pizza boxes is burning the hand I’m balancing them on.
I got the two pies Trin ordered but added a meat lovers and a Hawaiian just to be sure. Four extra-large pizzas may be a bit over the top for five people, but there’s nothing wrong with a few leftover slices.
“Jesus, you brought enough for a block party,” Vic comments when she opens the door.
I glance beyond her, in hopes of catching a glimpse of her sister but I can’t see her.
“She’s in the kitchen having a nervous break—”
“Vic!” Trin’s voice interrupts from inside.
“Right. You should probably come in.” My crewmate throws me a cheeky grin. “Here, give those to me.”
She takes the boxes from my hand and motions me inside, before disappearing down the hall. I close the door and stand there, contemplating whether I should be taking my shoes off when Trin walks toward me.
“I apologize for my sister; she was raised in a barn.”
“I heard that!” Vic yells from the kitchen.
“Girls!” a man’s voice booms.
Trin suddenly starts laughing, joined by her sister who sticks her head into the hallway. I feel like I’ve walked into a sitcom without reading the script.
“I’m sorry. Welcome to the insane asylum.”
She looks up at me, her eyes dancing with humor and her full lips still stretched into a smile. I have a strong urge to kiss that mouth but reach out instead, giving her hand a light squeeze. There’s enough time for that later, preferably without the audience.
I follow her to the large eat-in kitchen at the back of the house, where their dad and Tucker are already diving into the pizza boxes Vic dumped in the middle of the table. Tucker eyes me suspiciously, but Bruce barely seems aware of my presence. Bruce is at the head of the table and I sit down across from Trin and her son, leaving the other end for Vic, who walks over with a couple of beers. I note the one she places in front of their father is an alcohol-free brand.
“How are you feeling?” I ask the kid after taking a swig from the bottle.
“I’m good,” he mumbles around a bite of his slice, keeping his eyes averted.
He’s clearly not comfortable with my presence here, but that might just be embarrassment.
I load a few pieces on my plate and eat, content to listen to the family’s interactions until Vic turns to me.
“How did it go with the wreck this morning?” she asks, going on to explain to the others, “Bodhi helped the CBI locate and recover the vehicle from the rapids. The one Tuck got snagged on.”
I notice the boy perking up with some interest.
“I was?”
“Your right foot was caught on a side mirror,” I explain. “I had to dive down and pull you free, otherwise we might never have found the vehicle. In water like that—even just four or five feet under the surface—the car could’ve been down there forever without anyone the wiser. It looked like it had been down there for years already.”
“So how did it get there?” Tucker asks.
“Not sure. Maybe an accident.”
“Wouldn’t that have been reported?” Trin suggests.
An image of the skeletonized remains moving with the current surfaces and I quickly shove it back in the box where I keep all such memories.
“If there was someone left to report it.”
She seems to think on that for a bit before I see realization hit and she stares hard at me for a minute. Then she turns to Tuck.
“You had enough, kiddo?”
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you find something for you and Grandpa to watch on TV?”
The kid shrugs and gets up from the table as Trin starts to clear plates and empty bottles. She reaches for her father’s plate when his hand shoots out, grabbing her by the wrist. She tries to pull away but his hold tightens and I can see his knuckles turn white.
“Are you poisoning me, Margaret?” he hisses.
“Pops, let go,” Vic says firmly even as I reach over to put my hand on his.
He doesn’t seem to register either.
“Bruce, how long were you at Station 3?”
As I hoped, the mention of the firehouse resonates and his eyes turn to me. I already knew the station was something his mind had been able to retain from my first encounter with him. A faint memory I could hook into as a means to distract him.
“Eight years,” he answers.
I feel his hand relax under mine and he doesn’t resist when I remove it from Trin’s wrist.
“And twenty-two before that at Station 2.”
I watch as Trin steps back, shooting me a quick glance before she heads for the sink with the dirty dishes.
“Quite the career,” I point out. “Do you miss it?”
His eyes drift to the living room at the sound of a shootout on the TV, our brief conversation already forgotten. He gets up from the table and walks into the other room, where Tucker appears to have found something for them to watch.
“I’m sorry. That’s the third time in a week. It’s getting worse.”
I turn to Vic.
“Don’t apologize. Unfortunately it’s often part of the progression of the disease.”
By the time Trin returns, her sister is in the middle of telling me about a nursing home they’re considering for their father’s care. I learn Trin moved here from San Antonio to help look after the old man, but neither had expected the sudden rapid decline of his condition.
I suggest Trin talk to my mom when she’s here tomorrow morning. I’m pretty sure I remember her doing some research on care facilities for my grandmother. She never ended up being placed, her heart gave out before my parents had a chance to move her.
At some point Tucker announces he’s going to bed, and when Vic gets up to get their father upstairs, I stand as well.
“I should probably get going,” I announce. “Early morning start.”
“Of course,” Trin says getting up as well. “I’ll show you out.”
“Thanks so much for dinner,” she says as she leads the way to the front door.
“It was just pizza.” I wait until she turns to face me. “Next time I’ll cook, or we can go out for dinner.”
“Next time?”
I take a step closer and put a hand on her well-rounded hip.
“Yeah. Is that a problem for you?”
Those aquamarine eyes draw me in like a magnet to where my nose is nearly touching hers when she answers, her breath brushing my skin.
“I…uh…would like that.”
I slide my other hand up the side of her neck, my fingers slipping under her silky hair.
“Me too.”
She lifts her hands, placing the palms on my chest.
“But…my life is a bit crazy. I don’t know if…”
I kiss the corner of her mouth.
“I would need to…”
She puffs out a breath of air when I kiss the other side.
“It all depends on—”
This time I cut her off by swallowing the rest of her objections with my mouth. When I lick along that lush bottom lip, she opens for me, her fingers curling in my shirt as I get my first taste of her.
The kiss, intended as a gentle exploration, quickly turns into a hungry claiming. The feel of her soft skin under my fingers, the scent of her hair in my nose, and the flavor of her exploding on my tongue makes me want to haul her off to my place so I can have my way with her.
With the one last thread of self-control, I pull my mouth from hers and for a moment we stand there, our heavy breaths blending as we look at each other.
“We’ll figure it out,” I promise.
“Okay.”
She sounds a bit breathless, and I drop a kiss on the tip of her nose before reluctantly letting her go. I step outside and turn my head for one last look, memorizing her standing framed in the doorway, her face flushed and lips swollen.
That image I keep front and center.