Chapter 2

Whitney

The Lord sure has blessed me with some wonderful things, namely my daughter Trinity, who I’d die for. Since the moment she was conceived, I knew that she would be special. If the Lord chooses to make her special in this way first, bless her, but whatever happens, I know in my heart that this little girl is going places. If it weren’t for Dr. Quin, my little girl would have died. The doctor we had her going to when problems first started, didn’t know a dang thing about what was going on. He barely sent her for any tests, and the ones that he did send her for, he read the results wrong.

It was fate that landed us at the hospital on the same night that Dr. Quin was on call. He was filling in for a doctor in the emergency ward who’d fallen ill. He took one look at her and knew that there was something wrong with her kidneys. Right away he sent her for tests, and sure enough, his initial diagnosis had been spot on. That’s when Dan left. It was right after that. Can’t say I blame the man. It’s tough on a parent to watch a child suffer. And I suppose to him, having a diagnosis made it real. In his mind, he was in denial. In his mind, she was just a fussy infant. But I knew in my heart that it was more than that.

Dan and I were an odd couple to say the least. There wasn’t a lot of love lost when he left. He didn’t want to marry me despite me being pregnant. He blamed me for it. Said I missed a birth control pill, which I never did. The man never wanted kids and that’s the truth, even though he’d never admit to it. He had a horrible childhood. He was born by mistake and his family never let him forget it. His siblings were awful to him. I credit him for sticking around for as long as he did, given that Trinity wasn’t expected. He didn’t want to go down that same path again, and her getting ill was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

But when Dan left, I was alright with that. I’d rather not have him around at all then have him resent her. Or have him resent me for that matter. He wasn’t good with her, anyway. I nursed her, so he never fed her. He had no interest in changing her diapers or bathing her. On the days where she’d be sick, he’d help out, but only because the man was petrified. He made Trinity nervous. Babies can tell when something’s off with someone. They didn’t have a connection or a bond with one another. He held her when it was necessary, but there was no cuddling or nuzzling. Trinity looks like me, talks like me, she’s me all over, and I figured that would help, but it didn’t.

Peter, my only brother, stepped in right quick when Dan left. He’s a godsend in so many ways that I can’t possibly ever pay him back for all that he’s done. He moved in with me, away from the house he was renting, and immediately my workload with Trinity was cut in half. Peter’s a good soul but he never made much of himself. Never went to college. Never married. He’s a truck driver for a local company. Before he moved in with me, he used to drive all over, but now, since he’s a loyal employee, they’ve let him do only local runs. Bless them for that.

Being a teacher, it was such a blessing when Trinity started getting really sick. It was summer, so I was off work, and thank God for that. If it hadn’t been for that I don’t know what I would’ve done. I teach at the University here in Dallas, and I love it. That’s where I met Dan. He was doing a second career kind of thing when I met him. He was taking a night school course that I was subbing for once. Dan is ten years my senior, so as I said, it was a bit of an odd match, the two of us. We met and there was a lot of heat at first, but once I found out I was pregnant, it fizzled.

A million things are running through my head as I tidy up Trinity’s room while she sleeps. She’s right tuckered out this week, but Dr. Quin says it’s okay to send her to school tomorrow if she’s up for it. She loves school, so I try like the dickens to get her there as often as possible. As I fold her clothes that just came out of the dryer, I hear Peter walk in downstairs. He shouts upstairs and I take a step outside her door, close it, while shushing him. “She just went off, Peter. Keep your voice down.” I hiss.

He covers his mouth, blushing. “Oh, shoot, Whitney. I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d be out already.”

“Well, she wants to go to school tomorrow, so I told her she better make it an early night.”

“Good idea.” Peter nods.

“Where have you been?” Peter disappeared after we came home from the hospital. He’s been gone for hours. I hate sounding like our mama, but sometimes it worries me where he sets off to.

“Just out with friends.” He explains. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure. What’s up?” I walk downstairs. He leads me outside to the front porch, where the sun is setting. It’s beautiful outside tonight, so I make up my mind to sit out for a while. Trinity is good in that if she needs me, she’ll come find me. She’s not one to lay in her bed and cry for me. Not even when she was a toddler did she do that, unless she was real sick and couldn’t get out of bed.

We sit down. Peter is so much like our daddy it’s uncanny sometimes. He’d have been a handsome man like daddy had he not taken a trucking job. All those years of sitting on his duff, eating garbage and not exercising, has played a toll on him. Peter’s not a drinker, but he sure looks the part with the huge ponch up front. Sometimes I wish he’d have found a nice woman, so his life might have turned out better. He had no interest in school, and that was half the problem. He was more interested in screwing around with his half-witted friends than studying.

“Beautiful night.” Peter comments, pulling his baseball cap off. He’s got beautiful raven hair and crystal blue eyes.

“I was just thinking that myself, actually.” I nudge him. “Where did you run off to with Dr. Quin earlier?”

“Ah, he don’t like it when I talk about Trin’s daddy around the little one is all. I should have known better.”

“Well, what did you have to say, anyway?”

Peter stares at his hands. “Nothing much. I just…have a hunch.” He looks at me. “So, you say that P.I. lady you hired couldn’t find Dan, huh.”

“No. Lord knows where he’s run off to, Peter. Not saying it bothers me at all if I’m being honest. For all I know he’s halfway to dang Hawaii and changed his name and all.”

“See, I told you Whitney, that you should have demanded child support from him. Then you’d always know where that sumbitch was at.”

“I didn’t want it, Peter. You know that.” I explain, somewhat exasperated. We seem to have this same conversation over and over again, and I’m tired of it, frankly. “I make more money than he ever will. It wasn’t fair to ask. Plus, he never loved that child. Not like you and I do, anyway. And like mama and the rest of the family do. Making him pay support would’ve tortured him. And why bother? At least he’s out of the picture and not moping around here, bringing us all down. It’s hard enough to keep morale up, especially when Trinity gets sick.”

“I know it.” Peter admits. “But here’s the thing, Whit.” He hesitates, wringing his hands together. He only ever does this when he’s nervous.

“What is it?” I ask, concerned.

“I think I…I think I know where Dan is.” He doesn’t look at me at first. But when he does, he’s searching my face.

Slowly, I crane my neck back. “You think? Or you know?”

He nods, looking down at the wooden slats on the porch. “I’m pretty sure I know.”

“Is he here in Dallas?”

“Yeah.” He licks his lips. “Just outside of Dallas, actually.”

I’m stunned. “How in the hell did you find out? Did he call you or something? Dang, I spent over a thousand dollars to pay for someone to look for him, and no dice.”

“It’s kind of a long story, sis, but a friend of a friend of a friend found him. Knew him from way back when he used to work on a ranch. Anyway, he’s married someone, and oddly enough, he took her last name, which is probably why he couldn’t be found.”

I frown. “Gosh, I’ve never heard of that before. You sure?”

“Sure, I’m sure. I saw him myself just tonight.”

My eyes bulge. “You saw Dan?”

“Yeah. Hasn’t changed a bit. Hell, you oughta get yourself a refund from that dang private investigator. What a useless tit she was.”

“Well, I’ll admit she was a little pricy given her scant background. But she works for her mama, who’s real good and charges double the price.”

“Nonetheless, I found him.” Peter repeats, still wringing his hands.

“Did you talk to him?”

“Not exactly. But friends of mine will.”

I give him a look like he just called me by the wrong name. “What are you talking about?”

He sits back and winces. “I figure if he flew the coop when Trin got sick, he won’t want anything to do with helping her get better. Least of all donating a goddamn kidney.”

I’m flippant. “So what are you suggesting? Grab him by the head of the hair and force him to go under the knife? Threaten him with his life if he doesn’t have the surgery?” When I look at him, he’s not tilting his head or telling me I’m a fool for even suggesting it. The scariest part is that I don’t think he’s joking. “Oh, Peter, no.” He stares at his hands, and I ask, even though I’m afraid to. Peter would do anything for Trinity, and has. “What did you do?”

He lifts a hand. “Now, don’t get all uppity, sis. Everything’s going to work out just fine, now. I just…had some friends use their muscle a little.”

I fold my arms across my chest defiantly. “Just what friends are we talking about here? Your trucker friends? The one that crushes beer cans on his forehead and walks around like his shit don’t stink?”

“He’s got a crush on you, you know.”

I’m facetious. “Yeah, I’m sure I’m very…flattered.”

He looks at me like he’s half ashamed, half pissed off at me for insulting his friend, even though he knows that I’m right, but would never admit to it. “Fine. Yeah, Marty used to hustle before he started doing the long hauls, so I figured he was the best one.”

I scoff. “To do what exactly?”

“Now, you just let me deal with this, Whitney.” He says unconvincingly, trying to hide the quiver in his voice.

My nostrils flare as I inhale deeply. “Peter, you either tell me what in sam hill you’ve gotten yourself and Marty into or I’m telling mama, and you know that I’m being merciful here, because I’d take you down myself if you weren’t so good to my kid.”

He purses his lips, avoiding eye contact with me, while he considers his options. Mama once pounded the lights out of Peter for smoking dope in the barn at our grandparents’ farm. She beat him so bad he could barely walk, and he had to go to school looking like that. He never crossed her again. I’ve never threatened to tell mama anything, so he knows how well I’m playing my cards here. “Marty’s gone to Dr. Quin’s house to bring him over to the hospital, while his brother Sal is over at Dan’s place, bringing him over to the meet the two of them.”

I have to laugh out loud. This is the most hairbrained idea I’ve ever heard of. “And just what in the hell do you think is going to happen then? Y’all think I’m going to bring Trinity over so she can see your thug friends pull Marty and Sal by the ear to shovel a spare kidney out of her deadbeat father?”

“Well…no.” he practically whines. “They know what to do. I told them what needs to happen and they’re going to take care of it.”

“And why in the hell are they doing this? You didn’t actually pay them, did you?”

He stares at the wooden slats again.

I bend down in an attempt to make eye contact with my shit-for-brains brother. “Peter?”

“I paid ‘em.” He admits.

I raise my hand and smack him on the arm with so much force I almost knock him off the chair. “Damn you, Peter!” I hiss. I’d shout, but let’s face it, we’re on the porch, the neighbors can hear us, and Trinity’s upstairs sleeping. “You idiot!” I growl, smacking him again.

Peter bears down protectively. “Take it easy, Whitney!” he grunts, holding his arms up so I can’t hit him in the face. “I did it for Trinity! Don’t you see that!”

“Oh yeah? You think you’ll be a good Uncle to her when you’re in prison?!” I hiss through bared teeth. “Do you think you’ll get away with this if anyone gets hurt? Don’t you think your so-called friends will squeal on you the second the cops show up?” There’s a newspaper sitting on the side table next to me. I roll it up and hit him with it. “And if Dr. Quin gets hurt, what good is he going to be to Trinity then, huh? Did you ever think of that?!”

“They’re not going to hurt him, Whitney! I told them that!”

I set the paper in my lap, readying to beat on him some more. I have half a mind to call my mama and have her come over, so we can both pound the shit out of him. “And you don’t think that Dr. Quin, all six foot three of him, can take little Marty and his brother? And what about Dr. Quin’s four other brothers that could probably tear all three of you up without breaking a sweat?!”

“None of that’s going to happen, Whitney. I swear it!”

I ignore his declaration. “Just what were you thinking! You think it can all just happen out of the air like that, Paul? Huh? Dr. Quin has told you many times that a kidney transplant is a process. You can’t just put two people in a room with the doctor and make an exchange. It’s not a goddamn library!”

“I know that, Whitney! Calm down!” he whines again. I’d like to slap him a hundred times more, but people are staring as they drive by the house.

“You fix it, Peter.” I seethe. “Now.”

“What do you want me to do?” Another whine, like a goddamn dog begging for food.

“Call it off. Before someone gets hurt, before anyone goes to jail, before my baby’s life is ruined.” I stand up. He hunkers down as though I’m going to plough him. “Now, I don’t know what kind of scheme you’ve pulled here, but I swear to God, Peter, if anything goes wrong, you’re out. Now, I know that you’ve been a godsend to me and my baby since Dan left, but I won’t have this in my house! I won’t have you making deals with goons that don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground, goddammit!”

“Are you going to tell mama?” he asks like a coward.

“If you don’t fix this, yes. But for now, I’ll save your honor. Now you go hop in your beat-up old car and drive out to wherever Dan is, and I don’t want to know, and call it off. If you don’t, you’ll be living in that godforsaken car!”

“But what if I can’t?” he pleads. “I…I’ve already paid him. He said that he was going to do it tonight. He’s probably already gone to Dr. Quin’s house.”

“Well, then, you better get your pudgy ass over there and take care of it, Peter! Now, quit whining and go!”

“But I don’t know where Dr. Quin lives!”

“Yes, you do, and you know it!” I smack him again. “He’s been Trinity’s doctor for seven years, and we’ve been to his family’s ranch, to his house, to his brother’s houses…lan sakes! Don’t you lie to me, now!”

“Alright, alright! I forgot!”

I glare at him. “You want me to tell mama?”

He rises. “I’m going, I’m going. Jesus Christ.” That gets another smack. “Fine! Whitney, stop it! I’m going now!”

My blood is boiling as I watch him walk to his car and climb in. I’m standing on the porch with my arms folded over my chest. My chest is heaving I’m so angry. Peter pulls out of the driveway and drives down the street. I can’t remember the last time I was this angry. It’s almost worthwhile to down a shot of mama’s brandy, but I think better of it, I mean, what if Trinity falls sick tonight? That’s always been in the back of my mind forever. And probably always will be.

With half a mind to hop in the car myself and rescue poor Dr. Quin from the hands of Peter’s stupid friends, I turn around and begin wondering what I should do. Should I call the Sheriff? Let them take care of it, in case, well, let’s face it, something is going to go wrong here. But then, as much as I’m angry with him, I don’t want my brother to go to jail. Plus, I can’t leave Trinity alone to go drive over to Dr. Quin’s house, anyway. I’m a terrible liar, and for the life of me, I couldn’t explain with anything other than the truth, why I have to leave Trinity alone with someone while she’s asleep. I’ve never done that.

And just as I start to think that the night couldn’t get any worse, I look up and see my baby walk outside to me.

…and I catch her right before she collapses.