Playing the Player

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  I took a deep breath and headed toward the kids. Max looked down from the top of the wall and grinned at me.

  “Trina, look what I did! I didn’t even need your magic.”

  Since Slade was ignoring me, I was grateful for Max’s excited energy and the distraction of all the spazzy kids running around. “You rock, Max.”

  “What about me?” Gilly yelled.

  I laughed. “You’re a rock star, too, Gilly.”

  “I thought you only called her Gillian.” Slade’s voice startled me.

  He’d appeared next to me, still frowning. What was his damage today? One thing was for sure: Desi had totally misread how he felt about me.

  I shrugged. “She likes being called Gilly.”

  He nodded and took another drink of coffee. The aroma reached my nose. It smelled a lot better than the instant junk I’d had that morning.

  “That coffee smells awesome,” I said, trying one last time to shake him out of his funk.

  He hesitated then held out the mug. “Try it.”

  “Uh, that’s okay. I already had some this morning.” The idea of putting my lips where his had just been was more than I could handle.

  He narrowed his eyes, and then took another drink. “Whatever.”

  I’d had enough of his attitude. Scoping out the park, I noticed a couple of cute girls checking out Slade. I snuck a glance at him and saw that he’d noticed them, too.

  Clearly the last person Slade was interested in was me.

  “Hey, Max, did you see that cool slide?” I pointed toward the playground where a tall, twisting slide towered over all the other equipment.

  Max clambered down the wall, Gilly close behind him.

  “Let’s go.” I grabbed their hands and we ran toward the playground, not looking back.

  I followed Gilly and Max up the slide’s ladder. My stomach dipped a little as I reached the top, but I told myself it was a lot easier than climbing a rock wall.

  Max sat behind Gilly, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Slide train,” he giggled, then looked up at me. “Come on, Trina. You can be the caboose.”

  I scooted behind them, wrapping my legs and arms around Max.

  “Ready?” Gilly yelled over her shoulder.

  “Ready!” Max shouted.

  I made a train whistle noise and glanced across the playground. I saw Slade talking to the girls who’d been checking him out. He was smiling now, and laughing. He glanced at us just as we launched ourselves down the slide.

  We spun in circles, the hot plastic burning my legs. We fell in a heap at the bottom of the slide, rolling on top of one another in the sand.

  The kids jumped up, laughing. “Let’s do it again,” Max said.

  “Sure,” I said. “But this time I get to be in front.” That way I could put on the brakes and prevent any more sand from going up my underwear.

  “Where’s Slade?” Gillian asked.

  “Over there.” Max pointed.

  “He’s busy,” I said, refusing to look at him.

  “Who are those girls?” Gillian asked.

  I met her curious gaze. “Must be friends of his.”

  She frowned at me. “But I thought you were his girlfriend.”

  I forced a laugh. “No, sweetie. We’re just…um, well we’re work partners. Taking care of you and Max.”

  She chewed on her thumb. “I think you should be his girlfriend.”

  Maybe Gilly and Desi should get together, since they both lived in the same fantasy world.

  “That’s not going to happen,” I said.

  “Come on!” Max interrupted our relationship analysis. “Last one to the ladder is a stink bomb.”

  I snuck one last glance at Slade. One of the girls had her cell out, and I knew they were exchanging numbers.

  No doubt he’d be hooking up with her later, probably tonight.

  I jogged to the slide, determined to ignore Slade for the rest of the day.

  Nanny notes: Park

  CONS: The entire day. The other nanny’s major attitude problem.

  PROS: Zilch.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Slade

  Tuesday, June 18

  I woke up hungover. Even worse, I felt something I wasn’t used to feeling.

  Regret.

  I’d never felt that after hooking up with a girl, especially when she was the one chasing me, but today was different. Not only did I never want to see the girl from the park again, I most definitely did not want to face Trina at the swimming pool.

  Not that she’d know about last night.

  But I knew.

  I wanted to stay in bed and sleep all day, but I couldn’t. I’d promised Lindsay to be her sub, and I couldn’t bail.

  Unfortunately, Dad was already in position at the kitchen table, coffee in one hand, New York Times in the other. The guy was as predictable as the sunrise.

  “You were out late last night.”

  I ignored him and poured myself a huge mug of coffee.

  “Teaching another swim lesson this morning?” he asked my back.

  “Yep.” I refused to turn around. I wasn’t interested in facing the inquisition.

  “How’s the nannying going?”

  I shrugged, closing my eyes to block out the image of Trina’s hurt expression yesterday when I’d been so cold to her.

  Dad’s sigh was loud enough to wake the dead. I ignored him and left the kitchen. I’d stop at Mickey D’s on my way to the rec center. I didn’t need his disapproval shaming me all morning. I was doing a good enough job of that myself.

  I got to the pool five minutes early, a record for me. The ladies were already there, and so was Skinny Guy, but Trina wasn’t. I glanced at the clock. She still had a couple of minutes until we started.

  “Hey, gang.” I went into entertainer mode. I needed to snap out of my funk, and I had some new ideas to try out. Something I hoped wouldn’t seem condescending.

  “Everybody warm up,” I said. I watched the clock anxiously. 10:06. “Take a kickboard,” I said, tossing them into the water. “We’re going to work on breathing again today. We’ll stay in the shallow end so you can focus on breathing without worrying about, uh—”

  “Drowning?” joked Nancy, the one who always wore the orange swimsuit.

  I grinned at her. “Come on, Nance,” I said. “Nobody’s going to drown.”

  I showed them what I wanted them to do, holding the kickboard out in front of me and dipping my head in and out of the water, turning to one side to breathe.

  “If you’re right-handed, you probably want to turn to the right to breathe,” I said. “But try it both ways and see what feels natural.”

  I watched them, keenly aware that Trina was still AWOL.

  Regret and embarrassment about my behavior yesterday, and last night, rose like bile in my throat. Things hadn’t gone very far with the girl from the park, but I still felt like crap. Like I’d betrayed Trina somehow, which didn’t even make sense.

  This. Sucked.

  I closed my eyes and breathed in deep. I thought of Trina’s lavender oil and wished I could hold her hand again, and look into her beautiful, sad eyes. I wished I could erase yesterday, and last night. More than anything, I wished I’d kissed her that day under the tree.

  At least I’d know how she felt about me, if I’d been willing to show her how I felt about her.

  But life didn’t grant do-overs.

  After the lesson, I tracked down Mark at the front desk.

  “What’s up, Slade?”

  “Uh, someone was missing from my lesson today. I wondered if maybe she’d called.”

  Curiosity flickered in his eyes. “You’re showing a lot of concern, for a sub.”

  I shrugged. “It’s just, um, someone I know. From school.”

  “Ah,” he said.

  I didn’t like the smirk on his face.

  “Let me check.” He tapped the keyboard and frowned. “Looks like she switched classes. She dropped this
one and is coming to the Sunday afternoon lesson instead.”

  Shit.

  If I needed any more proof about how much I’d hurt her, this was definitely it.

  Alex was right; I was a dick.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Trina

  Tuesday, June 18

  “Report,” Desi demanded, when I answered her call. I lay on the couch, waiting for Mom to get home. She’d texted me that she had to work late and wouldn’t be home until around nine thirty, which just prolonged the agony of what we needed to do tonight.

  “Nothing to report.” I picked at some loose threads on the blanket I’d tucked around me. It was ninety degrees outside, but I was shivering.

  “Same old Slade?” she asked.

  I didn’t want to talk about the asshole version of Slade who’d showed up at the park yesterday. Instead I focused on the slurping sound in my ear. “Are you on break?”

  “Yeah. I’m addicted to the lemonade.” She slurped again. “I get off in an hour. Let’s do something.”

  “Don’t you have a date with Trey?”

  “Not really a date. A bunch of us are going to a movie. You should come.”

  I sighed and picked at the loose threads again. “I can’t.” I took a deep breath. “Today’s the anniversary. I need to be here with Mom.”

  “Oh, honey,” Desi said breathily. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Is your mom home?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I’ll come over as soon as I’m off work. I can stay with you until she gets home.”

  “Desi, I’m fine. Besides, she’s the one who falls apart on the anniversary. Not me.”

  Desi was quiet for a moment. “True. You never fall apart, do you?”

  “Go to your movie,” I told her. “I’ll be fine. Mom and I will have dinner. Then she’ll light candles, say a rosary, and collapse. I’ll hold her until she cries herself to sleep. Then I’ll go to bed.”

  Desi inhaled sharply. “God, Trina. That sounds awful.”

  I sighed. “It’s what Mom needs to do, and I need to be here with her. Tomorrow we’ll eat Pop Tarts and drink lousy coffee and start a new day.”

  “Okay, well, we’re still on for tomorrow night, right?”

  “Um, tomorrow?”

  “Pizza and The Voice, right? My house?”

  “Uh, yeah. Sure. I, um, forgot.”

  “Something has totally distracted you.” She snorted. “Maybe the other nanny is what’s messing with your memory.”

  “Desi…” My voice was full of warning.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll drop it.” She laughed in my ear. “Anyway. You know you can call me any time, right? Like tonight, after your mom goes to sleep, if you want to come spend the night at my house or whatever.”

  I smiled into the phone. “Desi, did anyone ever tell you you’re the best friend ever?”

  “Once or twice. Some shrimpy little girl who keeps stalking me.”

  I laughed. “Bite me, supermodel.”

  Desi slurped in my ear again. “I’ve gotta get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She paused. “I’ll be sending you positive vibes tonight. And your mom.”

  “Thanks.” I pushed the blanket off my bare legs. I needed something to think about besides tonight’s impending gloom.

  The shouts of little kids playing outside drew my attention. I moved to the window and watched them run on the small grassy area of our apartment complex. One of the girls reminded me of Gillian, fearlessly climbing to the top of the fence.

  Slade’s cold indifference at the park loomed in my mind, and I shook my head, as if I could shatter the images into a million pieces. So he didn’t like me. So what? That was hardly a news flash. He was a good actor, though, I’d give him that. I’d actually been fooled a little bit, thinking we might end up friends by the end of summer. And for one delusional moment, I’d dared to hope for more than friendship.

  My eyes shifted to the table in the corner. A new candle towered over the others, which had burned low over the years. Mom bought a new candle for each anniversary of my brother’s death. This one was red, slim, and tapered at the top.

  Breathing slowly, I walked to the table. My hands trembled as I lifted the picture frame. I looked into my brother’s laughing face, preserved forever at five years old, the age of his death. The same age as Gillian and Max.

  We’d been inseparable. I was only eleven months older than him. Most of my memories were vague, but what I felt in my heart confirmed what my mom always said, that he and I were always together.

  “You were like twins,” she said. “You even had a secret language you used around Dad and me, when you didn’t want us to understand your silly schemes.”

  Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I closed them and heard his infectious giggle. I saw flashes in my mind, of running after him in the grass, of hiding under a blanket on my bed hoping no one would find us. Most of the images were faded, but I clung to them because I didn’t want to forget.

  Only one image was as clear as if it had happened this morning. My legs shook as I let the memory overwhelm me. I let it come, because I owed it to Brian, on this day, to fully remember. I heard the faraway laughter of the grown-ups, the music. Remembered the feel of the damp grass under my bare feet as I ran toward the shimmering pool, beckoning me like a beacon. Heard Brian’s footsteps behind me, his laughter, then his pleading voice begging me to slow down. I always ran faster; it was the only thing I did better than him.

  Sinking to the carpet now, I hugged his picture to my chest. Guilt washed over me as I relived how victorious I’d felt outrunning him, sprinting around the edge of the pool. I’d been so focused on myself, on changing course to run back to our parents, that I’d never heard the splash.

  I bent my head over the framed photo and wept deeply, sorrowfully, full of remorse and regret.

  Desi was wrong.

  I did fall apart, but only by myself.

  After Mom got home, we sat on the couch in front of the altar full of glowing candles. She drank wine and I drank soda. We listened to her old Carole King albums, which made her cry even when it wasn’t the anniversary of Brian’s death.

  Eventually she cried herself to sleep on the couch, just like I’d told Desi she would. I tucked the blanket around her and turned down the stereo volume. It was sweet of Desi to invite me to spend the night, but I needed to stay with my mom. Tonight, we belonged together.

  One by one, I blew out the candles. With each puff of breath, I remembered Brian, sent him love, and prayed for forgiveness.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Slade

  Tuesday, June 18

  After the morning swim lesson, the girl from the park texted me, but I didn’t reply. I felt like a jackass, but I didn’t know how to tell her I wasn’t interested in seeing her again. I thought of how Trina looked when I’d ignored her at the park, and wanted to crawl into a hole.

  Shit.

  I headed to the mall, but Desi was on break and not in the pretzel shop. I wandered around, buying a couple of shirts and baseball hats I’d never wear. By the time I got home, my parents had already left for a concert in the park. My dad left a smart-ass note: Don’t call the cops if we’re out past curfew.

  I made myself a giant plate of nachos, nuking a pile of melted cheese on stale tortilla chips. Nothing was on TV, but I flipped through hundreds of lame channels anyway.

  My phone didn’t ping with any new texts, even though I kept checking.

  Finally I caved and sent my own. Missed u @ swimming. R u ok?

  I regretted it as soon as I sent it, especially when I got no reply.

  After thirty minutes, I sent another one. What’s the plan 4 tomorrow?

  On the TV, Vin Diesel somersaulted through spraying glass, machine gun waving wildly. I’d inhaled the entire plate of nachos, so I wandered into the kitchen to make more.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket and I almost dropped my p
late as I reached for it.

  No plan. Can u pick me up at 8:45? Mom needs the car.

  I dumped chips and cheese on the plate and stuck it in the microwave. She didn’t have a plan? Maybe she was sick.

  Why did u switch lessons? I hit send before I could chicken out. If she told me it was because I’d pissed her off at the park, then I’d have the chance to apologize. I was pretty sure the knot in my gut wasn’t going away until I did.

  No reply.

  The microwave beeped. I burned the top of my mouth on the hot cheese. I grabbed a soda from the fridge and slugged it down, cursing myself. I flopped in front of the TV again and focused on the movie.

  No reply was exactly what I deserved.

  I stared at the screen, unmoved by the body count. Finally, I got up off my ass and grabbed a movie from my own collection. I shut off Vin Diesel and turned on Emma Watson, then made another plate of nachos.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Trina

  June 19, Wednesday

  Slade’s car pulled into our complex at 8:46 a.m. I was shocked. I figured I’d be waiting at least fifteen minutes. I wasn’t thrilled that he was picking me up, but Mom needed the car. We’d shared coffee and Pop Tarts, then packed away the candles from Brian’s shrine and placed his photo back on the bookshelf, just like a regular family photo. We only set up the shrine once a year now; the first few years Mom had lit candles every day, but eventually she’d stopped.

  I took a deep breath as I walked toward Slade’s Jetta. I hadn’t replied to any of his texts last night, other than to tell him to pick me up today. I’d been too drained from my time with Mom, and from reliving all the emotions that came up on Brian’s anniversary. I’d thought about taking the day off, but I knew the best thing for me was to focus on something other than myself. Mom had gone to work this morning; so could I.

  Unfortunately, Slade hadn’t sprouted any weird skin growths or a third eye since Monday. Still gorgeous. But which Slade was here today? Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde?

  After I buckled my seat belt, I forced myself to look at him. He smiled, looking almost embarrassed. He reached into the cup holder and handed me a silver travel mug.