Trick

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Trick Page 6

by Laramie Briscoe


  “Is that what you want your mom to take you on?” I point to a big contraption, looking at Riley as we walk through the carnival.

  “Yeah,” she grabs Hadley’s hand. “C’mon Mom!”

  “Here,” she shoves her purse at me. “Hold this, we’ll be right back.”

  I wonder how I got in this situation, how this got to be my life, because it’s never been anything like this before. Hell, up until a few years ago, I didn’t even have a place to call home. Watching the two of them climb the steps that lead to the top of the slide, I think how lucky Riley is to have a mom who’s not afraid to do things with her. Mine had been afraid of so much, and in hindsight that’s probably where my bad behavior came from. Instead of being scared of everything, the way she was, I turned rebellious.

  As I watch them get ready to do their trip down the slide, I think about how Hadley probably never gets pictures of them doing things together. If she’s active and the type of mother who’s hands on, she’s not preserving memories – she’s making them. Grabbing my cell phone, I quickly take pictures of the two of them as they bump along. Hadley’s laughing as Riley screams out her excitement and I can’t help it, by the time they come to rest at the bottom of it, I’m smiling and laughing right along with them.

  “That was so much fun!” Riley turns around in a circle, as she runs towards me.

  Apparently she’s made herself dizzy because she tilts a little to the left. “You good?” I ask as I set her straight.

  “Yeah, but I’m hungry.”

  We ate like two hours ago, grabbing sausage biscuits to go with our coffee and orange juice. “You are?”

  “She’s a garbage disposal,” Hadley whispers to me. “I don’t know where she puts it.”

  Turning to her daughter, she points at one of the food trucks. “You wanna split some chicken fingers?”

  “Yeah,” she nods, happy with the idea.

  “They’re her favorite,” Hadley explains. “Given the chance, this child would eat chicken morning, noon, and night.”

  I make sure and put a little mark in my book of things to know about Riley and Hadley. I never know what might come in handy.

  10

  Hadley

  “I had fun with him today, Mom.”

  I don’t have to ask who Riley’s talking about. She’s done nothing but talk about Trick since we left the downtown carnival. He left an impression on her, and if I’m honest, he left one on me, too. Not many men are nice to other people’s children, at least not in my experience, and he never once got irritated with her or lost his temper. And when I looked down and saw Riley with her hand in his, it took everything I had not to cry.

  Her dad never did that. I can’t even recall the last time he held either one of our hands, and Trick probably has no idea what he’s done. He put a smile on her face I haven’t seen in so long, I almost forgot what it looked like. Walking around with him today, I finally felt like I wasn’t alone. To put that feeling into words isn’t possible. He gave us something back today – whether he knows it or not.

  “I did, too,” I admit. It’s hard because he’s supposed to be there for her, not me, but his presence is helping us both. I can’t deny I look forward to seeing him, I enjoy the conversations we have together. He’s not just my daughter’s friend, I see him as my friend now too.

  “When do we get to see him again?” she asks as she sits at her craft table, coloring in the book he gave her.

  “I’m not sure.” We didn’t make plans, and now I’m wondering if we should have. I have to go onto our account with the Companion Program and mark how many hours he and Riley spent together today.

  In a strange turn of events, my hand shakes as I mark the hours off as spent together. Mentally, I'm counting down from the nine hundred hours he was assigned. There's still plenty, but it already hurts my heart to think of him potentially not being in our lives.

  “Are you going to send him a message?” Riley asks, her eyes bright and inquisitive.

  “Do you think I should?” I don’t want to appear needy and I’m fully aware this should be about he and Riley.

  She nods. “Do you think he’d want to go to my piano lesson?”

  Now that? It totally breaks my heart. Most of the kids who are instructed there have both their moms and dads at every lesson. It apparently hasn’t escaped Riley that she only has a mother.

  “I can ask him.”

  “Can you Mom? Please?”

  Damn, I hope Trick says yes, because if he doesn’t, I don’t know how she'll take it.

  Trick

  I’m tired as hell. Riley and Hadley wore me out today. It’s a good kind of worn out though, one I haven’t felt in a long time. It’s different than the kind of tired I get after a long day’s work - when I come into my lonely apartment and just want to fall into bed because I’m exhausted and there's no one here to share my day with.

  Tonight, I'm tired because my day was so full. I don’t have to drop in bed wondering what life with other people is like. Today, I experienced it. Hadley invited me into a day in their life and included me. She didn’t make me feel like I didn't belong, she made me a part of what they were doing, for all intents and purposes, a part of their family for the day. I don't know if I've ever felt that before in my life.

  My cell phone chimes on the table beside my bed. Normally there’d be an internal battle. Who’s texting me? Do I really want to mess with them? Is it someone asking for a favor?

  This time though, I grab that shit up and check it quickly. A part of me knows it’s Hadley. When I see her picture on the little chat bubble from Facebook, I smile this dumbass smile I haven't had since I was a teenager.

  H: I hope I’m not bothering you.

  T: No, I’m just hanging out. Relaxing a little before I go grab dinner.

  H: Riley wants to know if you’d be interested in going to her piano lesson on Monday, and before you say yes, let me explain. Usually there’s a bunch of moms and dads there. I think she realizes she's the only one without a dad there. So I completely understand if you say no and I'll make excuses for you. Don't feel like you have to say yes.

  I take a deep breath. This shit is deep, deeper than I was prepared to get involved in when they gave me these hours. What if I fuck up and I’m not the person these ladies think I am?

  But there’s another part of me that wants to be the person they’re possibly seeing me as. They don't know the old me. The fuck up, the one who would spit in the face of authority because I was told not to.

  Looking back, I realize what a fuckface I was, and there’s so many things I wish I had done differently. But if I had done them differently, I wouldn't be in this situation now.

  It dawns on me, this is my chance to change, my chance to make a difference. I've never been able to do it before, and with these ladies, I'm being given the opportunity to right my wrongs.

  T: I'd have to come after work, so I might not be as well put together as the rest of them.

  H: Doesn't matter. However you want to show up is up to you. I'll explain to Riley what she sees is what she gets with you. She's capable of taking anyone at face value.

  T: Are you?

  I ask the question before I lose my nerve. Hanging out with her today, I noticed the ease of her smile, the way she cares for her daughter, and the capacity she has to care for other people - maybe even me.

  H: I've grown up a lot in the past few years, and I've learned what some perceive as the best things in life aren't truly the best. Money means nothing if you don't have love, companionship, and trust. Security really isn't secure if you're being lied to. I value honesty - even if the truth isn't pretty.

  I read between the lines. She’s had the pretty, maybe she wants the ugliness of life now, at least she knows it's real.

  T: I guarantee you my life isn't pretty and it's not easy, but it's mine.

  I wait for what feels like forever for her answer.

  H: That's probably the most honest thing
anyone's ever said to me.

  T: I'll never lie to you. That's one thing you can take to the bank with me.

  H: Good. Let's always be honest with one another - even if it's not the easiest thing to do.

  I type quickly.

  T: I don't do promises, as I told Riley, but I can assure you, you won't have to wonder if what I say is true or not. I don't make it a point of lying to make things easier on other people.

  H: Then we can agree on it.

  I don’t hear from her for the next minutes. I wonder if the conversation is done, but we left it awkwardly. Maybe I should initiate the conversation this time.

  T: Are you as tired as I am?

  I set the phone down and go around my kitchen, picking up the things I'll need to make dinner as I wait on her answer. When I hear the answering tone of the messenger, I make a conscious effort not to run over to it. Instead, I finish the task of putting my hamburger in the skillet to fry before I walk over and grab my phone.

  It's a picture, and she's captioned it.

  H: Can't you see the circles under my eyes? I'm exhausted.

  T: You look gorgeous to me.

  I type the words without realizing what I'm doing. I shouldn't be flirting with her, but she is probably the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen not wearing a lick of makeup.

  H: You don't have to suck up to me

  T: I'm not. You really are a very attractive woman. I don't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. The words came out before I could censor them.

  Immediately, I realize the irony of this situation. I was worried about getting a child whose mother would hit on me, and I'm the one hitting on the mother.

  H: If we're going to be honest, I would tell you those are the first nice words a man has said to me in years. And after the day I spent with you, I kind of wanted you to say them.

  Now that those words are out in the open, they can't be taken back.

  T: Maybe now's the time I should say goodbye, and tell you I'll see you on Monday at Riley's lesson.

  H: Sounds good. See you then.

  And I do my best not to feel the loneliness the rest of the night and the next day when I don't hear from her.

  11

  Trick

  This day has gone to hell in a handbasket. Like with the quickness of a gangbanger at a drive by shooting. I'm trying to leave to go meet Riley and Hadley when G shows up.

  "What the fuck, Trick?" he screams as he hops out of someone's car.

  I'm not sure who he got to drive him, and frankly I don't care. Right now I don't have time to mess with him and his attitude. "I don't have time to mess with you right now, G. Come back tomorrow."

  "No, you son of a bitch, I wanna know why you took the starter off my bike. I can't get anywhere now."

  He runs up like he's going to get in my face, but I square my shoulders, making myself as big as I can. That backs him up real quick.

  "Obviously you can get somewhere, because you're here, jawing in my face. As for the starter. You owe me for a job I did. You haven't paid, I took my property back. I warned you there were consequences to your actions."

  A look sweeps over G's face and it gives me a bit of pause. It's cold.

  "You're gonna see consequences, motherfucker. You may think I'm some dumbass teenager who doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground, but I've got news for you."

  My temper gets the best of me. I pick him up by his collar and shove him against the brick wall of my shop. "Don't threaten me kid, unless you have the balls to back it up."

  "You're gonna know," he screams at me. "You're gonna know what I have."

  "I'm not scared of you," My voice is deathly calm as I let go of his collar. His legs give way as he falls to the concrete.

  "You will be," he stands up, brushing off the ass of his jeans. "You'll learn who the hell I am."

  "Bring. It. Regardless, you're not getting the bike fixed until I get the money. Now get your ass out of my shop."

  I watch as he runs out. I've dealt with kids like him for most of my life. Ones who thought their words would scare me, who thought they were hard asses because they projected the attitude of one. That's not respect, and that sure doesn't make me scared of someone. If he thinks I'm gonna run back over and put the starter on his bike, he's got another thing coming.

  I glance at my phone, noting the time. I'm going to fucking be late because of this piece of shit.

  Quickly, I send a message to Hadley.

  T: Running a little late at the shop. Will be there ASAP.

  H: No problem. We're waiting for our turn.

  Attached to the message is a smiling selfie of the two of them. Some part of my heart that's been cold for years thaws and I don't know what the hell it means, or what the little spark of awareness is. All I know is I smile back, even though they can't see.

  A few laws are broken as I make my way across the bridge and into downtown. The whole time I'm hoping like hell there's no cop around. Slowing down as I get closer to the buildings Hadley told me about, I look for the number of the one I've committed to memory.

  Parking is never hard to find when you drive a bike. I quickly find a spot and climb off, hooking my sunglasses in my shirt and rush towards the building. My heart is pounding as I enter the converted Brownstone. I can hear the echo of piano chords bounce off the exposed brick of the walls and the hardwood that greet me as I try to walk softly against it. The boots I’m wearing make more noise than I would like, but I’ve also never been accused of walking softly. I turn a corner, coming face-to-face, actually stumbling into might be a better way to put it, Hadley.

  Reaching out, I steady her by grabbing her upper arms. Again, that flash of lightening that’s sparked between us on two separate occasions takes over. One day I’m going to give in and let it consume us, let myself feel what it’s like to touch her like I own her. Today, isn’t that day.

  “You good?” She’s put her hands out to steady herself, and they’re on my chest. Her fingers grip my shirt. A nagging in my gut says I should ask her to let go, but I can’t. The skin under my shirt burns from where she’s touching me. My fucking nipples go hard, but I do my best to push the reaction away.

  “I’m good,” she nods. “Didn’t mean to almost plow you over.”

  “That’s probably the other way around. I think I took the corner too fast.”

  “You do normally drive on two wheels,” she teases, and when she smiles I see a hint of a dimple in her cheek.

  I’ve never seen that before. It’s cute as hell. I grin back at her, stuffing my hands in my pockets now that we’re both sure we’re steady. Glancing down, because I want a moment to compose myself before my eyes meet hers, I notice a smudge of grease on her shoe. Wonder if she got it at the shop the other day? Then my eyes focus on her fingers. The nails are short. Two are painted a dark grey with glitter on them, the others a soft pink. Maybe it’s a play on her personality. My body responds to the thought. There are so many things I want to know about this woman. Is she light and dark? Am I getting too deep? My heart is starting to pound and my breath is getting heavier. Lifting my head, I try to compose myself.

  “So where’s Sprite?” I finally break the silence, not able to take it any longer. My eyes search the room, looking for the huge head of curls.

  “She just went in; I was going out to wait on you so you’d know where to go.”

  Well shit, we’re missing it. “Let’s go then.”

  Hadley slowly drops her hands from my chest, and like it’s no big fucking deal, grabs one of mine in one of hers. Palms touching, fingers entwined like we’re some teenage couple allowed to hold hands at the school dance, she drags me along the corridor. At my age, simply holding hands shouldn’t set me off, but there’s a chemistry between us I’ve never felt before.

  As we get to a room, she turns around, putting her index finger to her mouth. “Shhhh.”

  There’s something about the way her eyes lower when she does it. Goddamn what I wouldn
’t do to get this woman alone in a bed for the afternoon and there be absolutely no consequences to my actions. I nod to let her know I understand. Quietly, she leads me, still holding onto my hand. There’s a handful of women and men sitting in chairs backed up against one of the exposed brick walls. There’s two empty seats on the end. We head for those, keeping our heads down. I’m quietly ‘sorrying’ and ‘excusing me’ our way until we can sit down. When we do, Hadley lets go of my hand, and it’s a physical detachment I feel. My palm itches to grab hers again, for the human contact I haven’t had in so long. But when I glance up, I see Riley gazing at us, a smile on her face. I offer her a wave and she waves back, all toothy grin, feet kicking because she can’t reach the floor. The kid is excited to see me, and I’m not sure there’s ever been anything that made me feel more alive, more settled than that.

  “She’s next,” Hadley whispers in my ear, causing goosebumps to form where her breath hits my flesh.

  Leaning back in the chair, I reach around her shoulders with my arm, pulling her closer, kicking my feet out so I’m relaxed. To anyone watching, we probably look like a couple, and it’s okay with me. In some other alternate universe of my mind, these two ladies are mine.

  “Riley, c’mon up.”

  I pay attention when I hear her name. She stands, looking back at her mom and me before she makes her way up to the piano bench. Small as ever, she needs help climbing up. I fight my instincts to run up and help her, knowing there are things she has to do on her own. There are routines she has and they don’t involve me, but I’m the lucky bastard she’s chosen to include in this one.

  Now, I’ve never heard anyone play piano before in my life, but I’m pretty sure Riley is fucking Mozart. She’s fierce, never hesitating, as she attacks the keys. I can tell she does a few things wrong, because I can hear Hadley make a noise beside me, but all in all, this kid should be at Carnegie Hall – like tomorrow.

  All too soon it’s over. “That’s it?”

 

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