Like Sweet Potato Pie (31 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Rogers Spinola

BOOK: Like Sweet Potato Pie
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“You really want to talk?” She pulled the coat tighter.

“I do.”

“Waffle House, then. Two a.m.” Trinity took a few steps toward the trailer. “Sit in the back.”

“I’ll be there.”

I waited until the trailer door eased closed, and then I started my car and did a U-turn on the lonely road. Wondering, as I so often did, what on earth I’d just gotten myself into.

“So you really waited for me.” Trinity pushed open the door and slid into the too-warm booth across from me, her fitted black leather coat beaded with drops. Two men looked up from their pancakes, eyes flitting to her dark lashes and long, slim jeans. Trinity coolly ignored them, obviously used to such attention.

“Of course I did.” I moved my purse and took my legs off the opposite seat, sweat trickling inside my sweater. Short of disrobing completely, there wasn’t much I could do for relief under Waffle House’s exuberant heating system. Too bad I couldn’t funnel some of it to Mom’s house, where the cranky heating system left me freezing.

“I’d wait all night if I thought you’d really come.” Although they’d probably scrape me off the floor, sound asleep.

Trinity flicked her light brown eyes in my direction, surprisingly soft. “Why, Shiloh? You don’t even know me that well.”

“So?” I shrugged. “Why not?”

Trinity didn’t answer, blinking back what looked like sudden moisture in her eyes as she paged listlessly through a menu. She gave a nervous glance once or twice over her shoulder then settled back in the booth. “You hungry?”

“Are you kidding? I’m trying to decide which pancake platter to order.”

“After whatever else you ate already?” She nodded to my empty plate, which previously cradled a chicken Caesar salad.

“I might order two.” I fanned myself with the plastic menu page. “With eggs and bacon.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You need to. My grandma’s worried about you. Says you’re turning into a skeleton.”

“She’s worried about you, too.” I closed the menu.

“I know.” Trinity sighed and pushed the menu away. “But not about my weight.”

“Nope. You look gorgeous.” I tried to flatten my frazzled hair, which didn’t bend into thick spirals like Trinity’s did, even in the snow-flurry-turned-weepy-rain and humid streets. “But unhappy.”

“Yeah.” She sighed again and waited until the waitress brought some ice water and took our orders then sipped in silence. “You going to the surprise birthday party Grandma’s throwing for my grandpa?”

“Sure. She’s sweet to invite me. How about you?”

“Sorry. I’ve got to work at Cracker Barrel tomorrow and Friday, too. And at The Green Tree, if I can talk Jerry into letting me stay on.” Trinity shook her head sadly and played with her straw paper.

“Do you want to stay on?” I asked bluntly.

My question seemed to surprise her, and she flinched and dropped the straw paper. “I do.” Her eyes watered. “I really do. I just don’t know if I can.”

“What do you mean ‘if you can’?”

The waitress appeared with Trinity’s coffee, and then Trinity just sat there, twisting her hands together. Her lips sealed even after the waitress left, down-turned in a frown. She twirled a fork back and forth between perfectly manicured red nails.

“Look,” I said, leaning forward and softening my voice. “I’m not trying to be nosy, Trinity. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I just … want you to be okay.”

I thought she wasn’t going to reply, by the way she kept twiddling the fork and not meeting my eyes, but all at once her words slipped out. “It’s Chase.”

“Who?” I set my water glass, which had nearly reached my lips, back on the table.

“Chase. My boyfriend.” She practically whispered the words, eyes flashing up to the nearly empty tables and booths.

“That big guy who comes in to ask for you sometimes?”

“Yep. That’s Chase Fletcher.” She tore off the corner of a sugar packet and dumped half of it in her coffee. Stirred it with a spoon.

“The owner of the company that does music and voices for ads.”

“Right.”

Trinity was shivering, even under her sweater and leather coat. I picked up my expensive Japanese scarf, which lay in a shimmering pile of mother-of-pearl tones, and leaned forward to wrap it around her neck. Fluffing the ends and straightening her earrings. Trinity fingered the soft ends, nodding her thanks.

“Why, did you and Chase have a fight or something?” I settled back in the booth.

Trinity sighed, turning her water glass in the light. “Well, yeah. Kinda. See, here’s the thing.” She leaned closer. “He’s got a temper, Shiloh. A really bad one. I mean, it’s not his fault. He works hard, and his ex-girlfriend was a jerk, and—”

“Huh?” My fingers tensed on my glass, and I forced myself to react as little as possible. “What do you mean ‘he’s got a temper’?”

“Well, if he finds out I’m here with you, he’ll hit the roof. He’ll …” She sat back in the booth, shaking her head. “I don’t know what he’ll do. I told him I saw a possum after the dog food in order to meet you outside.”

“What?” I yelped. “Why can’t you have coffee with me? I don’t even know the guy!”

“I know!” Trinity’s voice clipped in irritation. “It has nothing to do with you. He’s just … possessive. Doesn’t want anybody spending time with me that’s not … well, him. If he finds out Shane sent me roses, he’ll blow his stack.” She rubbed her hands together, looking away. “I gave them to my sister. Told her Grandma sent them.”

“Trinity,” I began, suddenly not hungry.

Her teeth chattered, and she tugged down the sleeve of her coat, the same way I did to hide my burn from Adam.

I sat up straighter. “Are you sick? It’s a million degrees in here.”

“I’m not sick.” Her eyebrows flicked irritation. “And don’t give me a speech about Chase! He loves me.” She punched her ice water with her straw. “I know he loves me. He wouldn’t act this way if he didn’t care so much.”

God, what am I supposed to do now? I’m completely the wrong person for this!

“Is that why you haven’t been coming in to the restaurant?”

“Yeah. Chase says he needs me, and after he’s had too much to drink, he’s just unreasonable and doesn’t care about the time or my commitments. I mean, he needs to drink a little, of course. He has a hard job. And now with his new plans he’s …” She stopped, resting her forehead in her hand. “Well, he calls me all the time, Shiloh. He’s always got to know where I am. He thinks I’m at home packing now.”

I drank some water, trying to formulate words and not show the despair that flickered through my weary brain. I’d seen these women before. Denying reality. Making excuses. A lot like me in a nasty dating relationship I had back in my late teens. Which ended, I might add, with him getting arrested for assaulting a coworker. And I went on with my life and tried to be smarter next time.

“Why did you want to talk to me then?” I finally asked, wondering what kind of scumbag would treat Trinity like a criminal, watching and checking up on her.

“Because I’m … scared.” She twisted a sparkly red ring, not touching her coffee. “He’s pretty intense sometimes, and now he wants me to move to California with him—first thing in the morning. He’s sold the trailer and everything.”

“What? You? To California?” I sputtered.

“Yeah. He says he needs me, and he’ll throw a fit if I say no. The last time I said no about something he … Well, things didn’t go so well.” She stirred her coffee again, finally lifting the cup to her lips. “And I love him, so I should probably go.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “What about his ad business?”

“That?” She rolled her eyes. “There’s really not much business there. Which is what got him into his next endeavor.” She put her coffee cup down with a nervous clatter, shifting her gaze around the restaurant. “Can they hear us over there?”

“Where?” I turned around. “I don’t think so.”

Trinity shrugged and leaned closer, voice barely audible. “I don’t know what he’s into, but it’s bad. Drugs and stuff. I found documents and pieces of a fake passport once, and … well, he got pretty upset.” She pulled her arms closer to her.

The waitress came and set my plate in front of me, and I nodded in thanks. But didn’t move to pick up my fork.

“Where is he now?” I asked when the waitress walked out of earshot.

“At a friend’s house over in Waynesboro. He left home around one o’clock, so I slipped out to meet you. But he’s got a key to my apartment. If I’m not there when he gets back by five this morning, I don’t know what he’ll do.”

“Trinity.” I pushed my plate aside and reached for her hand. “Do you want to go to California with him and be involved in all this stuff?”

“No.” She sighed. “I mean, I love him, but he’s wrong on this one.”

“Has he ever … you know. Hit you? Or …?”

Trinity snatched her hand away, scowling. “No. Of course not! He loves me! Why would you ask a thing like that?” Her voice raised just a touch.

“Sorry.” I put my hands up. “You just said he was possessive, and … Sorry.”

She didn’t speak for a while, playing with her straw. “Okay. Maybe once.” She let out a shuddering breath, and I jerked my head up to see tears shimmering in her eyes. “He said it wouldn’t happen again. He was drunk. Didn’t know what he was doing. But then last week he … Okay. More than once.”

My eyes flicked to her jacket. Long-sleeved sweater. She crossed her arms, fingers tracing the outline of what seemed to be a tender spot on her upper arm.

I covered my face with my hands.

Trinity fumbled with the metal dispenser for a napkin and mopped her cheek. “I’m a mess, Shiloh. I don’t know what to do. I’m stuck. That’s why I called you this week, but every time I tried to talk he interrupted me, hovering over the phone.”

I came to my senses and fished a tissue out of my purse and handed it to her, my own fingers shaking. “Well, I’m a mess, too. I’m not sure my advice’ll do you much good.”

“Yeah, but you seem like you …” She sniffled and steadied her breath. “I don’t know. You have something that I don’t.”

“Stitches?” I showed the scar on my finger.

See, God? I told you I’m the wrong person for this. I don’t know what to say. What to tell her. I don’t know anything! Love? Relationships?
Give me a break!

“No.” Trinity rolled her eyes and laughed. “You just seem like you have a
heart.

“What? I was born on the wrong side of the bed.”

She laughed again, a tear spilling down her cheek. “That’s the thing though. When I thought of who to talk to, I kept coming back to you. I have no idea why. You just seem to have this … I don’t know … something, and I need help. I love Chase, and he loves me, but …”

“What he’s doing to you isn’t love, Trinity,” I said soberly, raising my eyes to her. “Please understand me. Love isn’t like that.”

She recoiled again, tears still burning in her eyes. She sponged at them, trying not to smudge her graphite-colored eye shadow. “How do you know? You haven’t even met Chase.”

“I’d like to.”
So I can knock him into next week!

“Do you know what love is? Is Adam the one for you?”

“Adam?” I jumped, my gaze jolting from the glistening shadow of my glass on the table to her eyes. “Why’d you ask that?”

“I don’t know. I just saw the way you guys looked at each other in the restaurant that time. With your Japanese friend.” She raised a palm. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I thought you made a good match.”

I blinked quickly and looked away, trying to recover. “I don’t know about Adam. He’s a nice guy, and at one time I thought maybe we … But he’s with somebody else.” I tried to shrug in indifference, but it came out more like a shiver.
A good match.
I pulled my coat on, hugging myself to calm my sudden jitters. “But regardless, I can’t see him … you know, treating a woman badly.”

On the contrary. Adam noticed my bandages. Lent me his cell phone. Held the door. I stuffed my scarred finger in my pocket, wishing Trinity hadn’t brought him up.

“How am I supposed to know whether a guy is good or not?” she asked in a voice that almost pleaded. “How? Why is it so hard?”

I shook my head and shrugged. “It
is
hard. But you look at his life. You see how he treats other people. That’s what Faye told me, anyway. If he loses his temper and mistreats other people, then he’ll probably do it to you, too.” I twirled my glass. “Don’t look at me. I’m hardly the expert. But I know you have to go into relationships with both eyes open and let God show you his true character. Pray a lot.”

Trinity thought a long while, tracing the edges of the sugar packet with slender fingers. The way I’d traced Adam’s business card.

“Real love just feels different from anything I’ve ever known before, Trinity. I’m still learning about it.”

“How?”

I sat silently a long time, trying to choose my words. Then reached out and cautiously took Trinity’s hand again. She didn’t pull away.

“ ‘Love is patient,’ ” I began from memory, feeling an inexplicable lump swell in my throat. “ ‘Love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud …’ ”

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