Her head whipped around, and she stared at me like she’d forgotten I was even there. “No. Sorry. Here.” She gave me the card. “He apparently wants you to have that. I... I’m gonna go help him so we can get out of here.”
She was lying. Before I could call her on it, she hurried back into the classroom and got busy helping Trent clean up.
“You ready to head out?” Havoc asked, intercepting me as I tried to follow her. Our time was over, and I needed to get back to the shop. Besides, I had a feeling Carly wouldn’t tell me shit until she was good and ready to. First, I’d have to prove to her that I was worth talking to.
“Yeah. Let’s get out of here. Thanks for the card, Trent,” I said, waving at him.
He beamed me a smile and his mom frowned, looking concerned.
On the way out to my bike, curiosity ate away at me. Something was going on with those two, and I needed to figure out what, because I was now officially interested in far more than Carly’s number.
Carly
“WHAT ARE YOU and Trent doing tomorrow?” Jessica asked, stepping into my room.
Tomorrow was Father’s Day, and the reminder made me groan with disgust and trepidation. Growing up, I hated every commercial, every craft, every mushy comment, everything that reminded me of that giant, gaping hole in my life where a dad should be. And now, my kid knew the same exact pain. I wished like hell I could take that pain away from him—that I could delete the day from the calendar and make everyone shut up about it—but I couldn’t. He would have to survive this shitty day every year, just like I did.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll take him to the Aquarium or the Children’s Museum.” We didn’t really have the money for either option, but there was still a little room on my credit card and I’d be willing to bury myself under the poor house if it made the day easier on my kid. “You?”
“Going to Mom and Dad’s. My brother and his wife and kids will be there, and Dad said you and Trent are welcome to join us if you want.”
Jessica’s parents lived in Renton. They were super sweet and always had homemade bread and fresh fruit waiting whenever we visited, but I worried that being around happy people as they celebrated Jessica’s dad would only make the day more difficult for Trent. It was our first year without Robbie, and although he’d never been the kind of dad mushy Father’s Day cards were written about, he was all Trent had known.
“Thanks, but I think we’ll pass.”
Questions flickered across Jessica’s face. I never talked about my past, and she had to be curious. Holding my breath, I silently prayed that she wouldn’t ask. I needed Jessica. She was my only friend, and I didn’t want to drive a wedge between us by refusing to answer her. I could tell her the answers would put her life in danger, but that sounded like some lame cop out. Regardless of how true it was.
“Okay,” she conceded, looking disappointed. “But if you change your mind, the offer stands.”
She went to check on Trent, and I released my breath and thanked my lucky stars that she hadn’t pried. I finished getting ready and headed to work early, before she changed her mind and let her curiosity get the best of us both.
***
Spade was back on the door tonight. Since I had Thursday night off, and he had last night off, I hadn’t seen him since he was with the guys at Helping Hands. He waved me past the crowd, but stopped me before I could go in.
“How’s your boy?” he asked.
The question felt like an invasion of privacy. Spade seemed like a good guy and all, but the fewer people who knew about Trent, the safer we’d be. I gave him a tight smile. “Fine, thanks. I gotta get to work.”
He frowned but let me pass.
Since I was early, I hung out in the break room, taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi to check social media. I’d deleted my real accounts long ago, but had figured out the password to my old friend Becca’s account: Robbie25, my baby-daddy’s name and his high school football jersey number.
Becca had been obsessed with Robbie. I wished I would have figured that shit out sooner. Like before I’d had Robbie’s kid. But then I wouldn’t have Trent, and there was no way I could even entertain a “what if” that didn’t include him.
I logged onto Becca’s account and was bombarded with several ‘Happy birthday in Heaven’ posts. Checking the date, I realized her birthday had been last week and I’d missed it. Pain lanced my chest and an involuntary sob escaped before I could clamp my mouth closed. I took a deep breath through my nose and blinked back tears as memories of Becca’s last birthday assaulted me.
Robbie, Becca, Trent, and I were camping at Scout Park. After an exhausting day of hiking and fishing, we’d pitched our tents and were sitting around the fire drinking and roasting marshmallows while Trent slept in my arms. Robbie was going off about some monster of a fish that somehow none of us had seen before it got away, and Becca and I—knowing he was full of shit—were laughing our asses off. Robbie got all butt-hurt and went to take a leak, and I couldn’t help but notice the way Becca watched him walk away. The way Becca had always watched him.
“You like him,” I said. “He likes you too, Bec. Why haven’t the two of you ever gotten together?”
She glanced at Trent and pain flared in her eyes. “You’re my best friend, Carly. It would be weird.”
Robbie, Becca, and I had grown up together. We’d been like the Three Amigos—no, like the three rejects—for as long as I could remember. I used to bounce between their houses, crashing on whichever couch was free. One night, while I was staying at Robbie’s house, his drunk-ass parents got into a knock-down-drag-out fight, said all kinds of messed-up shit, and left. Robbie had heard their whole exchange, some of which was about him, and he was hurt and angry. I wanted to comfort him, so I grabbed a bottle of whiskey from his parents’ cabinet and we started doing shots, trying to dull the pain.
Robbie was a wreck that night, and friendly hugs turned into more. Embracing. Touching. Kissing. We were both lonely. Hurting. Drunk. One thing led to another, and I ended up pregnant with Trent my senior year of high school. Robbie and I got a place together and tried to build a relationship for Trent’s sake, but it was too damn weird. We were never meant to be more than friends, and we couldn’t fake it. So, we lived together as roommates instead, raising Trent the best two fucked up friends could.
“You’re my best friend, too, and I want you to be happy. I want you both to be happy,” I replied.
