Katy took a second to consider the boys and then smiled, because they really were like brothers, growing up fast together. She started around the barn and spotted Jasmine and Trevor by the back corral, and she could see a few of the horses in the distance grazing. She made herself stop, because what she saw wasn’t two people ignoring each other: She saw a young man and a young woman, smiling, being together, talking, and he was holding her hand.
12
“I like your place, your house, and your horses,” Jasmine said. “You’re lucky to live here, and you could ride your horse every day. I would be out here brushing horses every day. You have way more than me.”
She was so smart and pretty, and she only stared at the horses in the field. He was holding her hand. He’d never held a girl’s hand before except his mom and sisters, but that didn’t count. He put his arm around her shoulders and slid his hand over her arm. He really liked touching her.
“That’s too much to do with horses,” he said. “You need to go to the store to work. You could work with me at the bakery. We get to package cookies and eat the broken ones. You’d like it,” he added, but she shook her head.
“No, horses are all I need. I don’t need to work at a store. Too many people, it makes me twitchy.” Jasmine rolled her shoulders. “I get nervous with people, especially when they interrupt me when I’m trying to do something. Just like my horse trainer, she wanted me to pick my horse’s hooves first before I brushed him, but everyone knows it’s the other way around. I told her that, so I don’t go riding anymore with her.”
Jasmine leaned into him and then leaned over and kissed his lips. It was a quick kiss, and then she pulled away and giggled. It would really be fun to have her work with him at the bakery. He’d talk her into it. She just didn’t understand yet that she’d like it.
“The bakery is cool,” he said. “Just try it. Then there’s my uncle Neil’s. You can use a saw and help with building my video stand. It’s almost done.” Of course she would love to do that. “That’s Thursdays. You can do it too, and Fridays we’re here feeding the cows, the horses, carrying the hay.” It would be fun, and she would love it as much as he did, all of it. He was so happy and couldn’t keep the smile off his face, but she was shaking her head again.
“No, I’m not allowed to use a saw, and that sounds boring. Thursdays are pizza night, and I have to vacuum all the rooms, wash the floors, and dust everything. Because we don’t like dust. I can’t work on Thursdays. Fridays my dad comes, except he didn’t come last Friday or the Friday before that… It’s been six Fridays since he was here, but that’s okay. Friday is his day,” Jasmine said.
“Trevor, Jasmine!” his mom called from the back door.
“Oh, that’s my mom. We need to go in,” he said, and Jasmine started walking with him before turning her head and lifting her hand.
“Bye, horses!” she called out. “I can see this might work, because I really like it here. Did you want to be my boyfriend, Trevor?” she asked.
There was something about being with her that filled that void of loneliness. He’d been alone even though he was with his family. “Sure I can, if you can be my girlfriend. My sister would like that.”
She smiled and looked down and made a face. Why, he didn’t know. She was happy—no, maybe sad. Hmm, he didn’t know what it was. “Why would your sister like it?” Jasmine asked as they walked around the barn and to the house.
He spotted a puddle and reached for her hand to move her around it. “Katy told me I have to have a girlfriend. She likes you. I like you. Do you like Katy?” he asked as they approached the house.
“I like Katy. She seems nice. Your mom was making salad, right? I told her I like salad. Can we see if she’s done? We should help with the salad, make sure she put the carrots in the salad, because it won’t work unless she does. And then let’s look at my horse magazines. I brought all of them so we can start at the beginning, and I’ll show you the season, the whole season. You’ll like it.”
He pulled the screen door open for Jasmine, and it squeaked. She pressed her hands to her ears.
“I don’t like that sound! Make it stop.” She made a face, and he didn’t know if she was hurt.
“My dad will fix it. Go on in,” he said and followed her, and he held the door so it slowly closed, inch by inch, so it wouldn’t let out that awful squeak. Jasmine didn’t like it, so it had to be fixed.
13
Katy had watched Jasmine over dinner, taking in the low hum of conversation from everyone around the table. Rhonda sat across from her mom on the other end, where her dad was at the head of the table. It was the first time she’d seen her so relaxed, as if she was enjoying herself, considering she, Brad, and Emily had carried on a steady, comfortable back and forth since dinner had been served: ribs, three different salads, scalloped potatoes, and the steamed peas that Trevor loved.
Trevor and Jasmine sat side by side and ate. Trevor focused solely on his plate and eating, and Jasmine, though talking on and off, didn’t seem too concerned that Trevor wasn’t answering. He wasn’t, of course, because food was food to him. She was positive he heard no one when he was eating.
Jack and Fletcher hadn’t said more than a word or two to each other, and Steven had picked up on the strain and taken it upon himself to fill the void, talking to both of them as if there wasn’t anything wrong, which gave Katy time to reflect on this odd gathering of what she hoped could be something really good for Trevor.
“Earth to Katy.” Steven nudged her as she played with a piece of onion in the potatoes.
“Hmm?” she said just as Trevor wiped his face with a napkin and reached for the platter of ribs. He took the last five off the platter and put them on his plate.
“Hey, don’t take them all,” her dad said, jumping in. She hadn’t known he’d been watching. “Put two back.”
“Fine,” Trevor said and used his fingers to put two of the smaller ribs back on the platter. She took in the pile of bones, seeing he’d eaten like six already.
Jasmine reached for the salad with all the cut carrots on top. “Can I have more salad? This is really good, and I really like the dressing. Salad is really good for you, and no one can ever eat too much salad. Maybe that’s why rabbits like it so much. I’ll finish up here because it’s almost time to read my horse magazines. We ate too late.”
Katy was about to answer her about the salad, but she’d already put it on her plate. Okay, so it had been a rhetorical question. “Jasmine, eat as much salad as you want. It will just go in the fridge and be lunch for Dad tomorrow otherwise.”
Her dad glanced up, and she didn’t miss the frown. He liked salad as much as she liked cooking, which was not at all. He picked up a rib to make his point and took a bite. Then Jasmine pushed away from the table and stood up with a pile of salad still left on her plate. Like, what the heck? She could see the puzzled look on her mom and dad’s faces too.
“Jasmine, are you done?” Rhonda called out.
“It’s time to look at the horse magazines. It got too late,” Jasmine called from the living room, and Katy took in the salad still on her plate. Trevor was still eating his ribs, and he hadn’t given Jasmine a passing glance as she’d left the table. It was as if he had no idea, because the only thing that held any interest for him right now was those ribs.
“Okay, but you need to clean up your plate and put it away,” Rhonda said.
“No, it’s time to look at the magazines. It’s seven. I look at them at seven.”
Katy turned around in her chair and could see Jasmine with a big manila folder, the one she’d brought with her and left at the front door. She sat in Brad’s easy chair and reclined it, sitting the envelope on her lap and pulling out a magazine. Katy turned around and took in Rhonda, who lifted her hands as if that was that and they should just ignore Jasmine. Then Trevor belched as he finished his last rib.
“Oops, sorry.” He wiped his face and then looked up and around before scooting his
chair back and getting up. “That was yummy,” he announced, and he collected all the rib bones and picked up his plate.
She took in the smear of sauce on his cheek. “Trevor, you may want to wipe your face. You’re wearing your ribs.”
“Oops, I’ll do that.” He put his plate down and picked up the napkin, then wiped his face and both cheeks, put his napkin back on the table, and bumped Fletcher’s chair as he moved around him. “Excuse me.”
“Dishwasher that,” her mom said, tossing him a look over her shoulder.
“I’m done too,” Jack said, wiping his hands and standing up. He really was looking sullen.
“You too, clean up, dishwasher,” her dad added.
Katy took in Rhonda, who sat with her elbows on the table, shaking her head as she glanced out to the living room, where Trevor had just walked over to where Jasmine was still sitting. Trevor was standing in front of her chair, saying something, but Jasmine was reading the magazine and ignoring him completely. Katy had to lean in to really hear what he was saying.
“Jasmine, how about some anime? You would love it.” Trevor sounded so happy. His hands were behind his back, but Jasmine was still reclined in the chair, running her finger down the pages.
“No, not right now. I’m looking at my horse magazine. There are jumpers here,” Jasmine said.
Katy finally turned away, because she couldn’t run interference.
“I’m sure you can see how difficult it is sometimes,” Rhonda said. “I’m sorry, it’s kind of embarrassing how she acts. She has no idea what is socially acceptable.”
“No, no, no, it’s totally fine,” her mom added and pressed her hands to the flat of the table.
“Trevor, too,” Katy added. “At times he just doesn’t read the social context. It can be funny, and we rag on him about it and laugh, especially when he doesn’t get it. His expression and reaction are always priceless, and then we have to explain it to him, but it’s all good. He’s learned, and it is kind of amusing, especially those few times he finally realizes what he’s done and the embarrassment turns back on him.”
That brought a smile and a soft chuckle to her dad. They’d all learned not to take it too seriously.
“Jasmine doesn’t have much of a sense of humor, though,” Rhonda said. “She does get flustered, and I’ve learned in the mornings I have to give her extra time to do things in a certain order. I can’t interrupt her or she’ll get too excited. She does tend to get involved with the small details of things, but there comes a point I have to say stop, because she goes way overboard. It’s stuff like how she’s fixated on those damn horse magazines. She won’t give them up or put them down at this time of night. I tried once and she screamed and carried on, and she can’t be reasoned with when she gets like that. One of the reasons her dad stays away. It’s easier for him.”
She wasn’t sure from listening to Rhonda whether she was trying to warn them or what, but she noticed that Trevor was no longer talking with her. She could hear the TV. Anime, she was sure. He’d popped it on without her. She glanced to Steven as he finished his dinner, just watching Rhonda and her mom and dad at the end of the table. She’d never asked him what he thought of all this.
She slid her hand over his arm, feeling the weariness of the day. “You’re quiet,” she said, still hearing the talking at the other end of the table, but she’d stopped listening.
He picked up a napkin and wiped his face, then tossed it on the table as he leaned back. He put his arm around the back of her chair, his hand settling on her shoulder. His touch was everything. “So you think this will work?” His voice was low. It was just her and him, and she shrugged.
“I don’t know. It’s different, but they’re not us,” she said.
Steven gave a nod and squeezed her shoulder. “Fair enough. Well, pick one: the boys on the outs, or the dishes?”
She rolled her eyes and slid back her chair. “Well, boys on the outs, of course.” She stood up and leaned down, then kissed Steven, and the two shared a laugh. “Besides, you do a way better job with the dishes than I do.”
She allowed her hand to linger on his shoulder, feeling the link of his fingers as they toyed with hers. It was just a moment among the chaos of family that said everything about how much she loved him, and he loved her. In this moment, she wished everyone could have that same something.
14
His dad was at the counter of the bakery department, talking to Stan. No, that was impossible. It was too early, and he’d just started work. His dad couldn’t be there. He tied the package of cookies and put it on the tray with the others to go out on the shelf.
His dad was walking his way.
“No, I’m not done. You have to leave. Go shop,” Trevor said. There was no way he was leaving yet. He still had two trays to package, and the broken cookies were the peanut butter ones. Shortbread would be coming next. He could smell them in the oven, and he liked those more. He wasn’t going to miss it.
“Sorry, bud. The DA called about the robbery guys, and we have to go down to see him.” His dad was in a jean jacket, his new one, which wasn’t faded yet. He must not have heard what Trevor had said.
“Not yet. After work,” he stated and held up his finger even though he was wearing those latex gloves he hated because they made his skin itch.
“Trevor, it’s fine. Take off,” Stan said as he strode past. His white hair was in a hairnet, and he had a white apron on over his all-white shirt and pants. “Heard you’re a super big hero, identifying those bank robbers the way you did.” Stan patted his shoulder and then laughed, looking over to his dad.
“But, but…”
“No buts. Go on. I’ll see you on Wednesday,” Stan said, already walking away.
His dad gestured with his chin. “Go get your coat.”
Trevor pulled in a breath and sighed, dragging his gaze back over to the tray of cookies. He hadn’t even had one yet. This was so unfair. He strode to the back room, took off his apron, and brushed off the crumbs before hanging it on a hook and reaching for his jacket, his brown one. He pulled it on over his black shirt and reached for his backpack, which held his lunch, which he now wouldn’t be able to eat here, and he started back out to where his dad was standing and waiting.
“Why did you have to come and get me? I need to be here at work. I can’t go with you,” Trevor stated as he walked with his dad out of the store.
“Not a choice. You have to be there. The DA wants to meet with us. Jasmine will be there too.”
Jasmine, really? “Oh, good,” Trevor said. He’d enjoyed having her over for dinner, having fun outside with the horses, and eating with her. Then he had watched anime, which he loved—but he also loved being with Jasmine, when she’d held his hand, and even the kiss. He did like it, but he wasn’t going to tell his dad that, or Katy.
His dad talked while he drove. Trevor had stopped listening to what he was saying as he thought of what Jasmine would be wearing. He hoped it wasn’t that orange shirt with the brown. It was ugly. Maybe they could go to the library after. He could show her all the Tintin books. He could even get one for her, knowing she would love it as much as he did. Everyone loved Tintin.
“Hey, Trevor, you didn’t answer me,” his dad said as he pulled into a parking lot by a gray stone building.
“Huh?” he said as he turned to his dad, who was shaking his head.
“You’re not even going to try to fake that you were listening?” Brad said with a sigh. “I just wanted to go over with you some of the things the DA is going to want to talk about. What you saw at the bank, you’re going to have to listen to what he says, like really listen, and answer his questions. If you don’t know what he’s talking about or understand him, what do you say?”
He stared at his dad, because he knew this was a trick question. What was it? “I don’t understand?” he said, and his dad laughed.
“Yeah, you say, ‘I don’t understand.’ You don’t guess. You don’t say something becaus
e you think it’s what they want to hear. Understand?” his dad said. His hand was on the handle, about to push open the door.
“Okay,” he replied, but was it? He rubbed his fingers together as he got out of the truck and followed his dad, who stopped and looked at him.
“How about for once walking beside me instead of behind me?”
Why did his dad do that? He couldn’t count the cars then or the bricks on the building or rub his fingers together, because his dad would tell him to stop.
His dad’s hand rested on the back of his neck and rubbed. “Relax, would you?” Brad said. “Just do what I say.”
They stepped into the building, and he walked with his dad to the elevators. There were two, and there was a large woman waiting in a dark blue coat. Her butt was too big, but he knew he couldn’t say that. His dad was standing beside him and tapped his shoulder. He turned to him, and he was frowning.
“Don’t do that,” he said in a low voice.
Trevor knew he wasn’t supposed to stare at her, but the belt on her blue coat was twisted in back. Maybe his dad didn’t see it.
“Sorry,” he said and forced himself to look straight ahead at the steel door of the elevator. He could see his image, and he could see the lady beside him. He couldn’t do it. He had to do something, so he reached over and touched the back of her belt to straighten it.
“Agh! What are you doing?” she screeched and jumped and smacked his arm.
He pulled his hand back. “Oh, I’m sorry. Your belt was crooked.”
“Trevor, seriously!” his dad said, moving him away from the lady just as the elevator door opened. He hurried inside, and his dad was saying something to that short fat lady. She hesitated before stepping into the elevator in front of them and giving him an odd look that was kind of scary. He held his hands together in front of him and knew his dad was looking at him, giving him that hard stare he did when he was in trouble or wanted to tell him what he should or shouldn’t be doing. Or maybe he just wasn’t in a good mood. Or maybe it was something else.
A Reason to Breathe Page 7
