Life's A Cappella (14 page)

Shayna shook his hand shyly as I opened the door for us.

“Erin doesn’t know what says woof,” she told Trent as he closed the door behind them.

“She doesn’t?” he asked in mock surprise and she shook her head.

“It’s a dog,” she whispered to him and looked at me to make sure I hadn’t heard.

“Shoot, I forgot,” I told Shayna, with a quick glance at Trent. I was outright terrified and really needed to get a breath of fresh air, or a bit of oxygen that I wasn’t sharing with Trent, and had the perfect excuse. “The people I work with bought you all sorts of toys.”

“Toys?” she exclaimed. “For me?”

I smiled at her, pleased with her pleasure. “They’re in my car. I’ll be right back.”

I hurried out the door before either could stop me and overheard Shayna asking Trent to play baby doll with her. Trent play baby doll? I wanted to laugh, but was so overcome with a cluster of other feelings I didn’t know which one to grasp onto or allow myself to feel first.

I walked slowly towards the car, reminding myself to breathe in and then out. If I could just get my breathing and heart rate within a normal range, I was sure I’d feel better. But Trent. What was Trent doing here? Hell, how did he know I was here? Had Nate told him I was back? And if he did, why? Why would Nate feel he had to tell Trent anything? Why would he and Trent still be talking? Why the hell was Trent here?

And most importantly, why couldn’t I get a grip of myself around him? He knew just about everything about me, including what an asshole I was. But still he kept coming around. So that had to mean he still cared about me.
Well duh, stupid
, I told myself. Or he could just be that nice guy that forgives without being asked to. That wants to help even when his offer is thrown back at him.

I didn’t want his charity though. But I did want him. Damnit.

I carried all of Shayna’s gifts in one trip because I didn’t want to make a second. Obviously not one of my greatest decisions, I thought, as I lost my footing on the stairs and almost lost the box containing the singing toilet. But I did it and felt a sense of pride as I walked through the door. Or maybe it was lightheadedness I felt from the overexertion. Either way, I’d done it and unceremoniously plopped everything on the ground a few feet from Shayna and Trent playing baby dolls.

“Toys!” Shayna shouted, deserting Trent and making her way towards her gifts.

“And lots of pretty clothes,” I told her, picking up a couple dresses, but dropping them back into their bag when she didn’t pay any attention to them.

“Open,” she demanded as she handed me yet another baby doll. “Please,” she continued when I raised my eyebrows at her.

“I’ll open this one,” I told her, “but we should also go through everything so you can see all the pretty things you got.”

“Oh look,” Trent joined us on the floor. “You have a singing potty.”

“A singing potty?” she asked, crawling towards him.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Whenever you tinkle, it sings you a song.”

“Make it sing, Trent,” she told him. “Please,” she reminded herself and smiled at me, obviously proud of herself. I gave her thumbs up to acknowledge her good manners and she tried to copy with a sideways thumb and forefinger.

Trent stared at me, lost for words. I could hear his thoughts;
pee in her potty? Absolutely not!

“This is your potty,” I told Shayna. “It’ll only sing for you, so you have to let me know when you have to go so you can hear it sing.”

“I have to go now.”

Trent and I laughed.

“Okay,” I told her. “You hold it in for me and I’ll get your potty all set.”

“Hurry, Erin. I really gotta go,” she said, pushing her thighs together.

Trent and I set the toilet up for her while I felt the familiar anger at my mother creep in. My chest constricted at the memory of Nate telling me Shanyna was not yet potty trained but was making progress. How many times had my four year old sister sat in soiled diapers and underwear while our mother fixated on her drugs? But Shayna was making progress, I thought proudly as I looked up at my sister who still had her thighs squished together.

While listening to Shayna’s toilet flush and then sing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star over a dozen times, Trent and I made dinner. We didn’t talk, but we had made dinner together so many times, speaking wasn’t necessary. He didn’t touch me, but I didn’t need his touch or the sound of his voice singing along to the toilet to know where he was. My body was much too aware of Trent.

Dinner would have been more enjoyable if I had invited a mime. Even Shayna had caught onto the quiet and barely spoke. Instead we ate in the uncomfortable silence that I had wedged between Trent and me.

Trent waited until Shayna was bathed and tucked into bed before he came to me. Cautiously, he extended his arms out to me and I went to him. Nestled in his arms, I felt my limbs relax and let my head lean on his shoulder.

“Hi,” he told me.

“Hi,” I responded.

“She’s something else,” he said, referring to Shayna.

“Yea,” I agreed. “I should thank you,” I stammered, remembering the reference letter he had written for me. “For the letter. It means a lot, so thanks.”

“I only told a few lies,” he joked. You’re doing good with her,” he complimented me and I felt my nerves begin to rattle. His words on the beach were one of the primary reasons Shayna was with me. Thankfully Trent wasn’t the petty type with the
I
told you so’s
.

“Yea, well –”

“How long until the adoption is finalized?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, feeling more comfortable after our embrace. Trent’s arms, his scent, the sound of his heart beating were all familiar, and eased me in a way his presence alone hadn’t been able to.

“What did the judge say?”

“He didn’t.” I turned away from him, hugging my arms around myself. “DCF has to come by every now and then to check on us. Shayna and I have to see a psychologist who reports back to them about our progress.” I waved my arms in the air. “It’s a long process.”

“Maybe if you told them you were back together with your policeman boyfriend –” Trent started to say but stopped when he saw me tense, my eyes wide on his.

Back together? Was that what this was? I wanted to reach out to him; tell him that yes, we were back together. But I didn’t. I watched his eyes turn from confusion, to sadness, to anger.

Fuck me sideways, I couldn’t get it right with him. Finally, I forced my limbs to move and took hold of his hand before he could leave, squeezing his fingers tightly, hoping to communicate what I couldn’t form into words.

“Trent, I –” I heard Shayna’s toilet start to sing and asked him to wait for me so we could speak after I helped Shayna in the bathroom. Only he didn’t wait for me. He left me, leaving me to wonder how I could have done things differently.

After a few hours of roaming my apartment aimlessly, I sat on my couch and set my phone to play Religion by Skylar Grey and I willed her voice to ease me into sleep. Maybe when I woke up, I’d figure out how I could transform myself into someone Trent could count on.

Chapter 25

Shayna

Her pink tutu and the tiara Tia Sofie bought her made her feel like a princess. A real life princess who was learning how to dance on her tiptoes. She skipped and twirled, all the while trying to keep her tiara in place. She couldn’t let it fall because then the fairy tale place she had moved to would shatter and she’d be forced to move back home with Momma.

She didn’t think of Momma much anymore, only when she thought about bad things. Like moving back home.

But a lot of times, Erin made her feel like the bad things were gone for good. At night Erin would snuggle her close, not letting any bad dreams squeeze in between them. And during the day, they’d play and talk. But they never talked about the bad things. Maybe Erin knew talking about them would make them come back.

Chapter 26

Erin

I left her! I couldn’t believe it. Shayna had counted on me and I had left her. Not alone, but that did nothing to ease my disappointment in myself. She was safe with Sofia, but that didn’t pardon the fact that I had forgotten I had a little sister and had left her in ballet while I headed home from work. I balled my hands into fists and punched my steering wheel.

I was tired, sure. I had had a rough day at work, yep. I had wanted to get home, absolutely. All resulting in the angst I now fought in my mind.

It had been because of Vanessa, the little girl with the big brown eyes and long dark hair. She had waited in the patient room quietly while her mom swore into her phone, screaming profanities at whoever was on the other line. I had waited for her mother to get off the phone before I started examining the little girl.

Makeup couldn’t hide the bruise or swelling the little girl had worn beneath her left eye. Even an untrained eye wouldn’t have missed how quickly she had shied away from my hand when I put the blood pressure cuff on her skinny arm. And once I put the stethoscope to her chest, all I could hear was how quickly her heart beat. Listening and struggling to maintain my composure, I completely forgot what I was doing and wound up not getting an accurate count of her heart rate.

Knowing she wouldn’t welcome even the most well-meaning touch, I gave her my warmest smile and left the room to speak to Dr. Johansen. But even after seeing her, he didn’t want to call the police.

“Why?” I had demanded, ready to start a one man crusade to save this child.

“I’ll let DCF know our thoughts, but we’re not calling the police,” he had said so sternly he hadn’t left me any room for arguments.

I was furious with him. He was a doctor. He was supposed to care. If he didn’t, who would? No one. He was the reason abuse was so prominent in our society. He may not do the actual hitting, but how was he any better than the abuser if he turned a blind eye to children like Vanessa. Like Shayna. Like myself. Unnoticed, uncared for, without anyone to defend them. No, not them, but us. We only drew notice if we grew up to be criminals, burdens on the society that had neglected to care about us.

I didn’t care what Dr. Johansen had said. I wasn’t going to let this little girl down. I had to protect her, as much for myself as for her own wellbeing. I would tell Trent. And then what? She’d end up in foster care? Shayna’s foster care experience had gone well. But how many other children continued to be tormented by people who only saw them as a source of extra income?

But I had wanted to talk to Trent so badly about the little girl, I forgot what I was doing and had left Shayna with Sofia while I made my way home. Once I realized what I had done, I cursed myself and made the twenty minute drive to pick her up. Asleep in Sofia’s arms, Sofia brought her to the car when she saw me pull up to her school.

“Bad day?” she asked me after a quick hug.

“Is it that obvious?”

I gave her a recap of what had happened and felt better when I realized she agreed with me. Something had to be done. So now it was a two woman crusade.

Three days had passed since I had last seen Trent. We hadn’t spoken much that first night, so his confusion was understandable when I called him to invite him over for dinner. He must have known I wanted something when I made us lemon chicken with bacon wrapped asparagus, his favorite. But he didn’t say anything, leaving the opportunity to bring it up to me. I did my best at small talk and ignored Trent’s amused grins aimed at me. I sucked at this. Why was I being so difficult? Why couldn’t I move on from the things I had said to him as easily as he had?

After I put Shayna down for bed, I readied myself to speak to him and sat by his side on my couch. The same couch we had spent so many nights watching television and cuddling (the overall tackiness of the word still made me want to roll my eyes). We had explored every inch of each other’s bodies on this couch. I knew him more intimately than I knew anyone else, including myself. I tried to clear my mind and was yet again met with Trent’s amused grin.

“Never play poker.” He caressed my collar bone so gently I barely felt the touch. But I could feel the electricity humming throughout my body. If it had just been my body that needed him, I could have ignored it. Probably. But
I
needed him. All of me needed him. Which was hypocritical of me since I couldn’t give him all of me

I took his hand and put his palm against my cheek, feeling his warmth radiate and warm me. I stared into his eyes, pleading with him to take me as I was. Broken. But he made me feel not quite whole, but at the very least less damaged. He leaned into me, never letting his eyes leave mine until his mouth found mine.

The passion I found was like nothing I had ever experienced before. Not slow and exploring like the first times. Or fast and rhythmic once we had found our flow. No, this was a different beast altogether. We were hungry, greedy for one another. Clothes were ripped, forgotten before they hit the floor. We took, demanded from of one another, driving each other to the edge, and still pushing for more. We were a bottomless pit of desire, never quite quenching our insatiable thirst for one another. With every taste, every touch, every thrust, my emptiness lessened, only to be replaced by an ache I couldn’t fill. Even after we were done, our bodies temporarily incapacitated on the floor, I needed more.

Trent looked at me longingly and I was satisfied to see he still wanted more too.
Greedy bastard
, I thought cockily as he lay down beside me, caressing my stomach. My eyes met his, so I stroked the arm that continued its rhythmic caress over my stomach and watched his muscles contract with the sudden contact. His lips parted and he leaned forward, toward my neck where he touched his lips to my bare skin.

“Is this why you called me?” he asked, breaking contact. I pouted at broken connection while he smiled his unfiltered, unrestrained smile, clearly amused and proud of himself.

“No,” I answered honestly. “But I’m not complaining.” I smiled at him, hoping it looked more sexy than stupid. “We should get dressed,” I said, suddenly remembering Shayna was only a doorway away. Next time we would have to take practical measures to ensure she didn’t walk in on us. Would there be a next time, I wondered. I sure as Hell hoped so.