Wednesday afternoons Brian attended a UNC department meeting in Asheville. Week after week, even he could see how his steadiness, the result of so much struggle, helped dissipate grudges.
“It’s thanks to Trevor,” he told Hailey. “The kid who worried me past worrying shows up and wants to stay. Fine, okay. And the next thing I know? He’s performing miracles.”
Soaking in a bubble bath, Hailey said, “Give yourself credit, Brian. Trevor’s a force of nature without common sense.”
[Click here to read the first episode, or here to read the previous one.]
“That’s true.” Brian pushed up his sleeve and reached into Hailey’s bathwater. He lifted her foot and kissed her ankle, water beading in his hair. “See you soon.”
Trevor was waiting beside the car. During Brian’s UNC meetings, Trevor went to the same WesternCiv class Brian had taught for five years.
Getting into the car, Brian said, “I can’t believe you like that class.”
“I go along with it.” Trevor grinned, an expression so fluid and fast that Brian glanced twice as if checking whether Trevor had instantly vanished and instantly returned.
“And you don’t smoke beforehand?”
“’Course not.” Trevor scanned his cell phone. He liked going to Asheville because the reception in Black Mountain was erratic.
That afternoon Brian’s meeting that afternoon ended early. Melissa Dorgan, the history professor, needed to take her little boy to the doctor.
In the campus courtyard, Brian saw Trevor, phone to his ear, mouth open. For almost a minute, Trevor stood speechless and isolated. The last time Brian had seen him so lost, they were both children. “Trev.” Brian said his name softly but Trevor startled and hid the phone inside his pocket.
“Who was on the line?”
“Cho! I thought I got through, but nobody was there.”
“Who wasn’t there, Trevor?”
“I was playing. A fake phone call.”
After their mother took off, or as Trevor would say, “died on Halloween night,” he sometimes pretended to call her. Brian overheard Trevor once, whispering, “Mommy,” into the phone.
But he hadn’t mentioned their mother in months. Not since he had admitted that in truth she had not died, but left. When Trevor was thirteen and Brian had just started college.
Turning the ignition, Brian asked, “Was your fake call to Jamaica?”
“Yah, but the number’s changed.” Brian shook his head.
“Everyone says—don’t even think about Vivi. Why can’t you listen?”
“I listen. Everybody’s right.”
After a few miles on I-40, Trevor wondered if they could stop by the Eden Café. “And see Carla.”
“Me see Carla?” Hailey’s face still had a mark from Carla slamming her into the kitchen cabinet. “Why would I want to do that?”
Trevor stared out the side window. Brian remembered when Trevor was three and walked in his sleep. In the dead of night, he used to open doors and fall down stairs, dreaming he was looking for a lost pet. They had never had any pets but Trevor would insist “my pet was crying for me.”
“I’ll drop you off at the café and drive back to campus for a while.”
Trevor patted Brian’s shoulder. “An hour, mon. Tanks.” He phoned to make sure Carla was there. “It’s been a long, long time.”
On Main Street Brian asked, “Hasn’t it been since last night? Wasn’t Carla at the Avalon?”
“We like to say it. You know.”
Brian stopped the car in front of the restaurant. Maybe Carla called a friend for real in Jamaica. “Does Carla talk to Andrew now that he’s home?”
(Click here to read the next episode)
