Trinity

The Chicago Police Department called forty-five minutes ago, but it was too loud at the bar to hear my phone, which was charging instead of stuffed down my cleavage. My sweet, chubby-cheeked nephew is in the pokey! I assume it’s a frame job, probably with Ari at the foundation. Emily wasn’t picking up so I expected to find her here. Instead I find Foreskin.

Not really caring for the answer to my own question, I hug Chase hard. “What happened? Are you okay? Oh my God, were you in lockup with winos and criminals?” I sniff, seeking out the scent of urine, flop sweat, and brown bag vino.

Chase winces. Since he witnessed the drama of finding out I’d once dated his father, he’s been cool toward me. It breaks my heart. “I’m okay,” he mutters. “Lucas is here. And he called Dad.”

Lucas called Brian. Of course. “Well, I’ll take you home.”

“He’s coming home with me,” Brian says. “If his mother—” He stops and takes a look at his son. What I never thought would transpire in a million years happens right before my eyes.

The man shuts the fuck up.

Brian doesn’t want to bad-mouth Emily in front of Chase. I suppose I should be grateful for this brief character growth spurt, but I’m not.

“You can see him this weekend per the agreement.”

“Trinity…” Lucas says, the first thing he’s said since I arrived.

God, he looks good. Better than good. And serious. And a little bit tired.

I’m reminded of something Pops would say: A person isn’t who they are during the last conversation you had with them—they’re who they’ve been throughout your whole relationship. I know Lucas was sucker punched by the news I’d once been with Brian. I have to give us a chance to make that right.

“I can’t just let you go with him,” I say to Chase, giving him the opening to express his wishes.

“I’m his father,” Brian says.

So much I could say to that. “Yes, but—”

Lucas cuts in. “They’ll be fine, Trinity.”

I don’t want to get into a shouting match here, at the police station of all places. Chase isn’t objecting, either. “I—I suppose it’s okay. But call your mom?” Who should be here. Her absence is a dark, rain-heavy cloud. I hug him again and give him a sloppy kiss, then watch them leave, feeling like I’ve failed and let Emily down.

A few seconds later, Lucas has steered me out of the station and onto the street.

“Lucas—”

“What happened at the weekend, Trinity—can we talk about that?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I overreacted,” he says. “Who you were with before is none of my business, and I can only say that it took me by surprise. That’s my excuse. I was jealous. Madly so. And I felt blindsided when my client dropped it on me. I already felt he wielded too much power over me because of this conflict situation, and he seemed to relish telling me. My reaction was petty and I’m sorry.”

I’m stunned by his apology, at how unvarnished it is. Lucas has to be one of the most sincere and honest people I know. I try to surround myself with such people, but it can be hard finding it in a partner. And that’s what Lucas is starting to feel like. My partner.

“This isn’t all on you. I should have told you, but—”

“You didn’t. You had your reasons.”

He thinks he knows my reasons. Jealousy, resentment, love unrequited. My feelings for Brian might have once been a complex tapestry woven with all those emotions, but no more.

I’ve never been a big sharer, not even with friends. People come to me with their troubles, not the other way around. Now I’m languishing in undiscovered country, fumbling around without a map. I need to fire up my rusty compass and give Lucas what he needs.

I need to open up.

“Yes, I have feelings for Brian, but not in the way you think. I didn’t share with you what happened because I—well, I never talk about it. In fact, I’ve never shared it with anyone. Pete knew because we went to college together, but I brushed it off, said it was no biggie, when really what happened felt so personal and hurt me for a long time.” The admission presses the space around my heart. I haul in a breath, and it’s surprisingly jagged. “Can I honestly say I don’t harbor some resentment toward him? No, I—I can’t. For a long time, I felt invisible, undesired, unloved, but I put my hurt aside because holding on to it interfered with my relationship with my sister. She needs me, and I need her, so I had to get over it.”

“Your feelings, your problem?”

“Yes. We all have to take responsibility for how we feel. Learn to…manage it.”

He clearly doesn’t agree. “Emily has no responsibility here?”

“You can’t steal what doesn’t want to be stolen.” I say it as if that should settle the matter. It’s been my mantra for fifteen years. “So now you understand how I feel about Brian. Perhaps my resentment is seeping into this divorce process, but when push comes to shove, I know what’s best for my family. I wish you’d called me tonight, not Brian. Who I thought you were no longer representing.”

Lucas stares at me, his blue eyes on fire, then says slowly, “He’s Chase’s dad.”

“Oh, now he wants to step up.”

“Chase has a mother. A father. Who are both capable of caring for him if they put some damn effort into it. You are not the parent here, Trinity. Though you’ve been playing one to both Emily and her kids.”

The words sting. “I’m sure Emily just lost track of time.”

“I don’t doubt it. Booze will do that.” Those cobalt-blue eyes I usually want to get lost in are glass-hard. “Emily’s been trying to shut Brian out for a while, and I’m not so sure she’s doing it for the good of the kids. She’s using her children as a means to get more for herself. Money, the house, a way of not taking responsibility. You can’t keep covering for her, Trinity.”

“I—I’m not. She’s my sister. And you’re not even Brian’s lawyer, yet you’re still working for him. You didn’t have to do that. You don’t owe him anything.” Your duty should be to me, I want to scream at him.

“No, I don’t, but I know what it’s like. What Chase is going through.”

“You can’t use your personal experience to decide this.”

“What else am I going to use? What else can any of us use? You told me once that my choice of profession sounded like a crusade, that I had to have a good reason. I do. I know Brian’s a dick, but it’s not enough to deny him his rights. And did it ever occur to you that maybe you should take a page from my book, Trinity? Acknowledge your pain, recognize that what Emily did to you—continues to do to you—shouldn’t be glossed over to keep the bloody peace?”

I’ve negotiated my version of the truth so peace will reign, but that’s too gray for Lucas. He’d prefer to apportion blame where it’s due. He has a cause to promote, a score to settle.

“You need to quit making excuses for Emily.”

“Excuses? I’m not—”

“Tell me in all honesty that Emily’s a good mother.”

“She—she adores her kids.” It sounds weak and ineffectual in my mouth.

“Right. I’ve no doubt she does. But you’ve been enabling her for so long, Trinity, that you can’t see her for what she is. A bloodsucker. All she does is take, love. She’s bleeding you dry.”

I’m stunned, not at the words but at the yes, yes, yes my traitorous heart is chanting in agreement. He’s right, but I refuse to reckon with it because as soon as I do—as soon as I accept it as fact—I lose some important part of myself. Big sister Trinity. Caregiver Trinity. The role I took on gladly as a girl. Who am I outside of these parts I’ve been playing for so long?

I can help Emily. I can shape her into a better mom.

“She’s my sister. She is not bleeding me dry. Not everyone is an emotional prodigy who emerges from the womb fully formed. Some of us need a little help along the way. I’m happy to be that for my sister. Is this about me? Are you trying to punish me because I was with Brian once and I didn’t fess up?”

“Don’t be daft. I just don’t happen to agree with how your sister is getting away with everything. She’s so damn helpless and she’s using you to shield her bad behavior.”

I’m starting to understand that Lucas feels more than anyone I know. Every case is personal for him. Every relationship. And it can all be traced back to a single source.

“Your mom screwed you over. I get it. I’ve lived it myself. But you can’t use that as a yardstick by which you measure every single experience. You can’t punish every person because they fail to live up to your standards.”

“Like you’re punishing Brian because of what happened years ago? Maybe Chase’s arrest is the wake-up call your sister needs, Trinity. Maybe it’s the one you need.”

Anger flares. “Stop making this about me.”

“You’re not Chase’s mother. Maybe you look at him and think in another lifetime you should’ve been, but you’re not. Brian picked her. And dammit, I’m glad he did because you’re here with me.”

He doesn’t sound all that glad about it. He sounds miserable.

“I told you what would happen if you screwed over my sister.”

“Dammit, Trinity!”

I jump at his outburst. A couple of cops heading inside hover near the entrance, ready to intervene. “I won’t apologize for trying to do my best by those kids.”

I’m shaking at the force of his words. “We can’t agree on this. We won’t agree on this.” Not when I know I’m the best chance they have.

He moves in and cups my shoulders. His heat brands me, yet my heart is icing over.

“I know this is hard, Trinity. You’ve carved out a certain place, a role that’s comfortable for you in your family. But that doesn’t mean it’s healthy. You’re going to have to choose.”

This again. “What? You over my sister?”

There’s a wryness to his expression, sadness in his kind eyes. “No, love, I’d never expect that. What I mean is you. I need you to choose you.”

“Don’t—don’t be absurd. That’s not what this is about.”

“Isn’t it?”

“My sister needs me. I’ve always been the stronger one.”

“I know, but the best thing you can do is let her stumble. Fall. Screw up. You can’t be there to pick up the pieces every time. For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even tell her you were attacked.”

I jerk away from him, his touch burning instead of soothing. “She’s got enough going on.” As do I, but I can handle it. Or at least, I was handling it until Lucas blasted into my life pushing and probing and making me question everything. Who I am and where I fit in. I’m sick of myself, and if I’m being honest, I’m sick of Emily—but I’m not ready to give up on her.

“And what about you, Trinity? When’s it going to be your turn? When are you going to take on the lead role instead of hanging back in the chorus?”

“My turn? It doesn’t have to be an either/or proposition, Lucas. I can be a good sister and still find time for me, for a relationship. But maybe that time I find will never be enough. Nothing is half measures with you. It’s all or nothing, and I don’t think I have what you need.”

Those words appear to strike him like cannonballs, and when he speaks, it’s low, seemingly torn from somewhere deep inside.

“I won’t apologize for wanting more, Trinity. For wanting to be wrapped in us until I can barely breathe. What’s the point in half measures? If something—someone—is worth it, why not give it everything you have in you to give? All the want and need and energy and love? I’ve lived half my life feeling guilty for just surviving. For being the one who made it. I want more. I want beauty and life and beer and football. I want that with you.”

I don’t know how to respond. I think he just told me loved me right in the middle of telling me I’m a screw-up.

And I love him, love him, love him. But it’s not enough, not when we’re at such cross-purposes. Not when he thinks I’m so wrong that nothing could ever feel right between us.

“Lucas—I can’t. We can’t.”

And then I turn and walk away.