28

 

What robbed Trina of sleep? From the look of her heavy eyes, her night’s rest must have equaled mine.

She had placed her arm across the kitchen table, and her head lay on top of it. She still wore her night clothes: a T-shirt and pair of shorts. Trina always dressed as soon as she got out of bed. Overwhelming sadness settled in my heart. How much time does she have left? Why won’t she talk to me? “Bad night, honey?”

“Ummm.”

As much as the truth would hurt, this game had to end. We had to stop living in this land of make believe.

“Trina.” Sitting beside her, I placed my hand on her arm and struggled for the right words. “I know you’re keeping something from me, but you need to tell me. You’ll feel better if you do.”

She lifted her face and peered into my face. Here soft doe-like eyes were more familiar to me than my own, but I still peered into them, memorizing every spec of gold, each variation in color. I remembered the emptiness of Nancy’s eyes as she moved from earth to heaven. Her shell remained, but the life in her eyes was gone. I knew she was dead. My throat tightened, and I choked back tears at the thought of my daughter’s lovely eyes losing their sparkle.

“Dad, I’m not keeping secrets from you on purpose. It’s just that—”

The back door rattled and Sandra entered. Trina’s opportunity to share her secret with me ended.

Sandra was early; I hadn’t even had my first cup of coffee yet. She carried a basket that wafted out a spicy smell like fresh oatmeal cookies.

Trina’s face brightened. “You remembered!”

“My famous pecan muffins, hot from the oven. Are you up to one?” She gave Trina a searching look.

She knows! Jealousy turned to relief. Trina would need another woman. Ted and I had a role to play, but a mother was different, and Sandra filled that role. My appreciation for Sandra grew. Her love for my daughter was evident.

As Trina nibbled contentedly on her muffin, Sandra set a plate with two warm muffins in front of me.

“I can get the last of the furniture polished, and sweep the front porch this morning,” Sandra said, as Trina and I filled our mouths with warm pleasure. “I thought maybe this afternoon I’d plant some flowers around the front of the house, if that’s acceptable to y’all?”

“What would we do without you right now?” Trina asked, spewing crumbs from her mouth as she spoke. Both women laughed.

“You’re meeting a need for me, too.” Sandra spotted the tell-tale dirt. “You have a visitor last night?”

I explained about hearing Mitch’s truck as he was leaving. “Half the trunks are missing, so now he knows we found the cave, if he didn’t hear about it before.”

Trina snorted. “As big as the crowd was outside when they took out the bones, everyone has to know. Did you ever think, Dad, it might not be Mitch, but someone from out of town?”

“Why do you insist on protecting him? Trina, think with your brain for once.”

“Bill!” Sandra’s stern expression told me mama cat was already on guard.

“I’m going to nail that cupboard shut. I should have done it as soon as the police left.”

“But there’s more stuff down there.” Pink spots colored Trina’s cheeks. I wasn’t sure if they were caused from finally having food in her stomach or her temper.

“It doesn’t matter.”

I headed toward the door. “I’ll keep working on the brick around the walkway out back. I’ll nail the cupboard shut after lunch.

When I was half way across the yard, Sandra called to me.

“You sound like a man with something on his mind. Do you want to talk about it?”

Morning sun highlighted the softness of her face; her modest shorts and shirt hugged her curves. Emotions churned.

“I’m just trying to decide what I need to do at the end of the summer.” Where did that come from? I had not given any thought to the end of the summer, but it was true. With Trina’s cancer, I needed to make a decision. Should I go back to Ohio or stay in Darlington?

And now there was Sandra. She definitely complicated the decision. But whatever I did, it had to be the best for Trina.

Sandra squeezed my hand and my fingers instinctively curled around hers. “Decisions like that are hard to make. I know Trina would love to keep you here.”

Is she blushing? I tried to stare without being obvious.

“You know about Trina’s condition,” I said, my fingers still wrapped around hers. “I could see it in your face when you came in today.”

“You’re a perceptive man.”

“It’s a relief that you know. If I stay or not, Trina will still need a mother-figure. I’m glad she has you. Don’t worry, I’ll pull my weight, and I know Ted will too, but it seems sometimes women need other women.”

“I’m glad you’re comfortable with our friendship. Trina is quickly becoming the daughter I never had.”

I stroked her hand with my thumb, enjoying its softness. Trina would find a mother just in time to die.

“Did Trina ever tell you how she got her name?” I asked.

“No, she never did.”

“Her name is a combination of everything that was important to Nancy, Trina’s mother. Trina stands for the trinity and the nativity. Tri-na. Nancy loved naming things. She even named our cars.”

“Trina’s a beautiful name, and it’s even more beautiful now.”

Conscious of her hand in mine, I let go. “If you’re going to be a stand-in mother, you should know those things.” Hesitating, I continued. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t mention to her that I know. She’ll tell me in her own time.”

“I’ll keep your secret.”

She continued to stand beside me. Had I forgotten to say something?

“I don’t think I have ever really thanked you for sharing what you saw in the attic,” she finally said. “You know-- seeing Jimmy. It must have been a shock. I’m not sure what I would have done if I’d been in your place.”

“You’ve thanked me enough by being here for Trina.”

“Trina’s a joy. Your family is meeting a need for me, too, Bill. It’s like you belonged here all the time. I’m still surprised at how much you resemble Uncle Carl, and you’re an identical match to whoever’s picture we found in the attic. I’m just sorry all the family’s gone and there’s no one to tell us who he is.”

“Old photos can be deceiving.” But my likeness to the portrait was disconcerting.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

I could smell her perfume, and hated how my heart was thumping. Something about her made me act strangely, like I was having an allergic reaction or something. My tongue was swollen, and my hands were clumsy.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” I mumbled. Then I kissed her cheek.

“I need to go plant those flowers.” She turned away.

This time I was sure about the blush. And I had no regrets for the kiss.

 



 

An hour later, Sandra once again crossed the yard toward me. Even from a distance, her expression told me she was not bringing good news.

“The lab report came back on the blanket.” Tears glazed eyes. “The fibers match the ones from the attic.”

I pulled her close to me. “We knew they might.” I rested my face gently against the top of her head. “Why plant a blanket if it’s not the right one?”

“But there’s more.” She lifted her face to mine. “There were traces of marijuana on the blanket, and they’ve taken Pastor Steve back to jail.”

She collapsed onto my chest sobbing.

What is happening?