by Scarlet West
“Drake, what is it? People are waiting for us out there. I need to put out the dessert,” she opened the oven door, drawing out a tray of something delicious-looking.
“Here, let me?” I offered, reaching for the knife. She nodded and I cut in silence, the fragrant steam filling the air between us, redolent of cinnamon and unsaid words.
I stammered, drawing a big breath. “Trina, I wish you would just tell me once and for all what’s got you so upset. I know I hurt you when I left and I’ve apologized for it but I can’t help but feeling that there’s something more. Something you’re holding back from me. I wish you would just tell me what it is.”
She tensed. I could see the wheels spinning in her head as she tried to come up with the words she wanted to say.
“If acting hadn’t panned out,” she asked, “what would you have been?”
I frowned. It was something I hadn’t thought about in ages. “Probably a salesman,” I said.
She looked incredulous. “Truly?”
I nodded, vigorously. “Sure,” I said. “I would have been good at it. Convincing people that what I think is the same as what they think is what I do every day, after all. I have to make them believe that I’m another person.”
“True,” Trina said. She turned away from me, putting out cake forks. I frowned.
“Trina?” I asked, sensing again that this was an important time. “If you could have been anything, what would you have been?”
“A hairdresser,” she said, and her voice sounded dead-certain. “It’s what I’ve always wanted.”
“And in the future? Do you still want to be a hairdresser?” I asked.
She looked at me, and I could see a wistful expression in her eyes. “In the future?” she frowned, a considering smile on her face. “I want my own place. A salon. One I can make the rules for, decorate the way I want. Choose what hairstyles to cut.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
I grinned. “You have to do the hairstyles that the salon tells you to do?” I asked, reaching for a plate of steaming cake. She started loading them onto a tray, her hands busy.
“I mean, there’s no rules as to the styles themselves. It’s more the clients and what they want. They’re so outdated, Drake,” she sighed. “If I was running my own salon, I’d be on Instagram every day, spotting new trends and learning how to cut them.” Her eyes shone, and I realized she really was passionate about it.
“That’s a great idea,” I said warmly. “I hope you get to do it, one day.”
She made a face. “It’s just a dream, Drake,” she said. “Look at me. How am I supposed to afford to buy my own salon? I don’t have enough for the rent, some months. I should focus on everyday life and give up on dumb dreams. What good are they?”
I felt a surprising anger well up. “Dreams are dumb, huh?” I asked bitterly. “Well, maybe they are. Maybe I’m dumb to have the dreams I had; that one day I’d come back and find you and we could fix up the past and move on and be happy. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should just focus on everyday life and forget such stupid dreams.”
She stared at me, her eyes round with shock. I wanted to stop feeing so out of control and confused, but I couldn’t. Now that it was all rising to the surface, it felt as if I couldn’t get it back in. It had to come out.
“Drake…”
I didn’t say anything but walked quickly past her and out into the hallway. At the door I grabbed my coat, turned the handle and walked out into the stairway.
“Drake?” she called out from the door. I was heading down the stairs, blindly, into the darkened entrance way. I found the front door handle and strode out into the night.
As I strode off down the sidewalk, the evening’s still breath fanned my bitter tears.
15
Trina
I looked around the salon. It was Tuesday morning and the sunlight washed onto the tiled floor, painting it a grubby shade of yellow. I sighed and reached for the broom. I felt more tired than I had ever felt in my life. It wasn’t the sort of exhaustion that one gets when one’s been awake all night – this was different. I just didn’t have the will to do anything anymore.
I really blew it.
The words from the previous evening kept on going around my head. My own weary statement, and Drake’s unfathomable response. One day, we’d fix up the past and be happy together. Dreams are dumb.
“Maybe they are.”
I sighed and carried on brushing up the hair that lay strewn across the tiles. The day was early yet and there were no customers waiting for us. The only sound in the room was my footsteps and the hiss of air over tiled floor.
“Trina?” my boss called to me from the door. I looked up dully from where I swept.
“Yeah?” I asked.
Sloane raised a brow. “Mrs. Alberts said you did a great cut this week. She was really impressed. What?” she added, frowning at me.
I sighed. “Thanks, Sloane,” I said wearily. “It’s nice of you to pass it on.”
“You wouldn’t think so,” she said, sounding affronted. “You’d think I just told you your car got run over,” she shook her head. “The look on your face isn’t exactly happy.”
“I’m fine,” I said, gritting my teeth. Sloane had all the sensitivity of a bulldozer. I waited for her to go outside, then leaned against the wall, eyes closed.
“Dammit, Drake,” I whispered to the space. “If you had something to say, you should have said it! How was I supposed to guess how you feel about me?”
Of all the things I’d been expecting him to say, the response from yesterday was the very last one. He had really thought about me seriously? Considered making me a part of his life? It seemed so far-fetched.
What he had said turned my whole world on its head, changing every decision I’d made. If I had honestly imagined I meant more to Drake than a teenaged fling, I would have done everything differently. I might have risked telling him about Amelia. I might have risked telling Tom.
Instead, I had deprived my daughter of a father, myself of love. For what? Because I didn’t think anybody could really fall in love with me? Because I didn’t think I could matter that much?
“Drake, you asshole,” I whispered into the silence. But I knew in that moment that it wasn’t really Drake I was angry with. I was angry with myself and my silence, my refusal to tell anybody my ten-year-old secret, even now that Drake was back in Bridgeway.
I swept the hair up into a dustpan and emptied it, barely aware of what I was doing. I couldn’t stop wondering what the hell had made Drake react with such anger.
“Trina?” Sloane’s voice sang out from the office at the back. I sighed and dumped the dustpan by the door, then I stuck my head around the corner.
“Yes?”
“You have an appointment at ten. But otherwise, we’re dead. I don’t know why we open on a Tuesday.”
“Neither do I,” I murmured under my breath.
“What’s that?” Sloane asked.
“Nothing,” I said. “I’ll empty the trash.”
I walked out with the trash cans, feeling as if the whole day was gray, despite the rays of sun shining down between the buildings. A bird sang somewhere, the sound splashing off the brickwork like rain. I could barely feel a response inside me. I was empty.
“Trina!”
A yell shattered the quiet. I recognized that voice as Skyler and I ran toward it.
“Skyler!” I rushed into the lobby, my heart almost bursting with the pace. It was Amelia. It had to be. Why else would my friend be here calling for me with so much distress. “What is it?”
“Trina?” she shook her head, and to my wonderment she was smiling. “Sorry, girlfriend,” she chuckled. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that. It’s okay.”
“I thought it was Amelia,” I reproached her.
“Sorry,” she said again. “Amelia’s at day camp with Greer. Everything is fine. I would have called you instead of running here
like a lunatic.”
I sighed. “I know that. I’m sorry.” I had forgotten in that instant that it was Tuesday and she wasn’t with Skyler.
“I’m sorry too,” she repeated and this time she really did look upset about it. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you free this afternoon?”
“Yes,” I said slowly. “Why?”
“Well, I have a staffing problem at the restaurant. I was wondering if you could be there to fill in for Miller?”
I stared at her. Miller was the head waitress at La Nouvelle. I had filled in for her once, but it stressed me beyond description. Did Skyler seriously want me to spend my free afternoon – that I could spend with my daughter – on that horrible job?
“Skyler, I don’t know,” I said slowly. “There’s a lot on my mind at the moment. I don’t think I can do that.” My lip wobbled, just thinking about my own sadness. There was no way I would be able to go out in public twisted up like I was I could barely do my own work, never mind take over as head waitress.
“Please?” Skyler blinked blue eyes at me. “I’m really sorry, Trina. I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t desperate. I can even pay you Miller’s wage? For this evening, at least?”
Money was always tight – my job supplied the bare necessities, but it would be great to have a bit extra. . I would be stupid to refuse the cash.
“Okay,” I nodded. “I’ll do it.”
Skyler let out a shuddery breath. “Thanks, Trina,” she said. “Really. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here.”
I grinned lopsidedly. “You’d manage,” I said. “But I know what you mean. Your friendship means a lot to me.”
“Me too.”
“I need to tell Sloane I’m leaving after the last haircut.”
“Thanks, Trina,” Skyler said again. “I’ll come and pick you up. Will you be done by four-thirty?”
“Yes,” I said.
At half-past-four, I was on the front step at my home. Skyler rolled up. She jumped out and greeted me cheerily. “Hey girl! she said. “The evening hours start at five. We have some time for you to get ready.”
“Ready?”
“It’s an important gala night,” she said. “If you could wear this?” she passed me a black dress.
I stared at it. It was a beautiful dress, and I was surprised she expected the head waitress to wear it – narrow and knee-length, it was more elegant than anything I owned.
“Sorry,” she said again. “I know it’s a lot of expectation to put on you. But, please? Just this once?”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll go in and put it on. We don’t have much time.” The drive would take fifteen minutes in this traffic.
“Perfect.”
I ran upstairs and put on the dress, then stared at my reflection.
“Wow, Trina.”
It fit me perfectly, and the black – admittedly a color I usually avoided – made the blue of my eyes seem luminous. I added some red lipstick, just because.
“Wow,” I said again.
Feeling surprisingly good, I went downstairs.
Skyler whistled. “You look awesome.”
When we got to the restaurant, Skyler seemed oddly agitated. She glanced up at the door and I sensed a restless uncertainty about her. She was fidgety, which was unlike her.
“What’s up?” I asked, ready to alight.
“Just hoping everything’s ready,” Skyler said.
“Well,” I said, unlocking the door with uncharacteristic firmness. “Let’s go and find out.”
We walked up the steps together. Maybe it was the dress, or maybe something inside me had finally had enough, but I was feeling confident and strong. I strode in through the restaurant door. And stopped.
“Hello Trina,” Drake said.
16
Drake
I stared and swallowed, feeling my body tighten up with a mix of uncertainty and amazement.
“Hello, Trina” I said, absolutely stunned. She was wearing a figure-hugging black dress, her pale hair arrayed around her face in messy beauty, red lipstick enhancing her plump lips. She looked incredible. I felt like I was in some crazy dream and I had to take a steadying breath.
Skyler and Randall had invited me for a drink. Nobody had said Trina would be here.
I swallowed hard, looking down at myself. I had come straight from work, and was in jeans and a shirt. I felt oddly self-conscious. Trina looked like a billion dollars. I l felt like I looked a mess.
“What are you doing here?” she said.
I grinned. “I was going to ask you the same question.”
She blushed. “Skyler,” she looked round. Skyler – who had been in the doorway a moment ago – had disappeared. I frowned.
“She invited you for a drink?”
“No,” Trina said, shaking her head. “She told me she needed help, that the restaurant was hosting a gala event and the head waitress couldn’t make it. That’s why I’m wearing this.”
“Oh,” I smiled, knowing my appreciation was obvious.
“Have you been here long?” Trina asked me.
I chuckled. “Got here about ten minutes ago,” I said. “Randall’s in the back. Said it’s very relaxed tonight. They had time for a drink and so they invited me.”
“You mean?” Trina stared at me, looking horrified. “You mean there’s no event?”
I frowned. “Nobody said anything about one.”
“Skyler!” Trina looked annoyed. She whirled around and I could see exasperation on every line of her face.
“I think she wanted us to meet,” I said.
“I know,” Trina made a face. “I just, damn her for interfering,” she said, but I could tell she wasn’t really angry. She actually looked relieved.
“Well, I guess it was interfering, but I’m not sorry she did,” I said. “I have so many things I’d like to say.”
Trina swallowed. I saw her pale throat work, and I felt my body tighten up for her, recalling the way her skin and hair smelled when I lay beside her.
“Me, too.”
“Well, then,” I shrugged. “It seems like we have the whole place to ourselves – at least for now – so maybe we should take a seat and have a drink together.”
“I don’t see why not,” she said. She looked self-conscious, so I pointed to the terrace.
“Outside?” I said. “Nobody can hear us there.”
“Okay,” she said.
I followed her out. The evening was still bright, the sun just moving toward the horizon. I drew out a chair and sat down, facing her. I could see she wore a confused expression and I couldn’t help reaching out to cover her hand with mine.
She stiffened but didn’t pull away. I left my hand where it was. I could feel her pulse at her wrist, quick and even. It sent wildfire through my body with its stuttering rhythm.
“Trina,” I sighed. “You asked me not to ask questions. But I wanted to say that, if you let me, there are so many things I would ask you.”
Her eyes met mine. There were so many emotions in the depths of them that I found it hard to even begin to pick one out. She blinked, her long lashes soaked with tears.
“Don’t cry,” I whispered, but the tears were already falling.
“Drake,” she whispered. “Sorry. But there were so many things I wanted to say, so many times I wished I would turn around and find you here.”
I stared at her. She was crying heavily, hand across her mouth to stifle sobbing. Her eyes were closed and the tears ran off her chin. I reached across to touch her hand.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t stop. I can’t hold it in anymore. It’s been so long.”
I nodded wordlessly and let her cry. A waitress appeared at the outer door. I signaled to her to bring wine, and left it up to her discretion to decide what. Trina carried on crying and the waitress appeared with two glasses on the tray, red wine in them.
“Thanks,” I said softly. She left them discretely and withdrew.
“Trina,” I wh
ispered. “Talk to me.”
She sniffed and looked at me, smiling wanly as I passed her the glass. She took a sip and sighed.
“Sorry,” she said again. “It’s just been too long since I had a good cry.”
“I understand,” I said. There were times when I wouldn’t have minded crying myself. Especially recently. The strain of not knowing whether Trina loved or hated me, of not knowing whether I was Millie’s father, it was driving me crazy.
“I’m just glad you’re here,” she said. “Skyler’s a phenomenon.”
“Good description.”
We both laughed and sipped our wine. I watched her over the rim of my glass. She leaned back in the chair, more composed now. Her pale skin was offset perfectly by the dress, and even the tracks of tears did nothing to spoil her beauty. She was stunning in a way that stirred my blood.
I burned to ask her so many questions. I wanted to know if she was still angry at me. If she loved me. If she’d borne my child.
“Drake, I know I’ve been quiet for a long time,” she said, drawing a slow breath. “But I had my reasons. I think when you know the truth, you’ll understand. I know I asked you not to ask questions, and I meant it at the time. I just don’t know if I can keep it from you anymore.”
“Keep what from me?” I felt my heart start to thump. “What is it, Trina?”
She took a deep breath to steel herself and searched carefully for her words. I barely breathed as I waited for her to talk. “Drake,” she said slowly. “Remember the night after the dance?”
I felt something in my chest melt. That had been the first night we’d spent together. The first time we’d made love. It was so clear in my mind that it felt like yesterday, not a decade ago. She was so passionate, so sweet. I had lost my heart in that moment and never reclaimed it.
“Of course, I remember.”
“You left a month after,” she sniffed.
“Yes.” I felt my heart stop. I think I guessed, a few moments before she said it.
“We didn’t use protection. I got pregnant.”
I felt my heart start again, thumping very quickly. It was all clear to me now – incredibly, remarkably so.