A/N: I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO UPDATE BUT LIFE HAS BEEN HECTIC WITH WORK AND WORK AND MORE WORK. I'M JUST A TEENAGER BUT WORKING FULL TIME AND IT KINDA SUCKS BUT THE PAY IS GOOD SO HEY.
Anyway...
I really love all the support this has continued to get, even though I stopped writing it for so long! Please keep it up! It fuels me! It makes me want to write it and want to write it well, too, for all of you guys.
Love you all! Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to review with your thoughts on the chapter, please!
G.
..
...
Everything has been natural these past two weeks with Tom and the flight crew. It's all balanced again, for a while, she thinks. They've not had any major problems, every flight has gone by well with no issues, and customers have been relatively nicer (or, maybe it's just her that thinks that simply because she's actually been in the mood to come to work, lately).
She's had dinners with Tom, casual dinners, casual lunches, a few nights together. She's gotten her hands on a few months worth of contraceptive pills, thanks to a pharmaceutical friend. They've been okay. They've actually almost been one of those...couples. It's been hard to contain their obvious relationship while at work, but they've somehow managed to make sure the crew tells no one. Patty may not like Trina, but not enough to make her lose her job.
"After you." Tom says, holding the airport door open for her.
She gives him a sweet smile and pulls her coat up around her neck, feeling the cool, late-fall breeze down her back, "Any plans for tonight?" She asks, turning to face him a little bit once she's out the door.
He follows behind her, not too close to make her uncomfortable but close enough. "Only ones that involve you." He cops and smirks a bit, "Do you have any?"
Her frown comes along when he says his first few words, Only the ones that involve you. She shakes her head and purses her lips over to the side before speaking, "I actually have an appointment with your mom to refill my nails, and then I really need to go grocery shopping because my poor apartment cabinets are practically bare." She states, looking up at him.
"Well I could come to the salon with you, right?" He says, shrugging, "I always like visiting my mother anyway..."
"You?" She asks, raising a brow, "In a salon?"
"Yes?"
The corners of her lips jerk up into a half-grin, "I guess I never pinned you to be the type for manicures..." She purrs, giving him a bit of a smirk now that her grin was more devious. "But I suppose if you don't mind the smell of acetone and acrylic, be my guest." then adds, "Literally."
She closes her eyes when he leans down a little to kiss her lips, "I grew up in the smell of acetone and acrylic." He muses, smiling as she opens her eyes to find his.
"I suppose you're right."
"You suppose?" He asks, a brow raised to match her earlier expression, when she was mocking his manicure-ish nature.
Her top teeth clamp down on her lower lip, and she watches as he just looks at her with an absolute love in his eye for her. "Okay, okay. I'm not saying I was wrong to suppose, but..."
"You were wrong." He interrupts playfully.
Trina wonders right then why she even likes him. Why she let's him interrupt her like that. This isn't you. It makes her stop and close her eyes right there, and he's saying something to her along the lines of are you okay? And Tri? But she isn't listening. She's hearing his voice and his words, she knows what he's saying, but she's still wondering. "I'm fine." She finally states. "I'm just...wondering why in hell I let you do this to me. Why I let you interrupt, why I let you call me my most un-favorite nickname. It's just...like whenever you do or say something it's completely okay." She admits, "I never used to be like that. Just...let someone be annoying to me. But you don't annoy me like most people do when they do that kinda stuff..."
She realizes shortly after she stopped talking that she started ranting to him. But he listened without a peep. At least he doesn't interrupt the important things. He really does want to listen and learn about her. And the more she's been around him these past few weeks, the more she really lets it sink in that someone cares for her as much as she cares for other people. "Sorry." She breathes, "It's just...you've really turned my life upside down." She states, getting in his car and rubbing her face a little bit.
"How?" He asks, the worry in his voice. It sounds as though he's scared he's done something wrong, like a scared child or something.
She looks over at him and sighs, "You don't have to be so...so sweet all the time. I still like the other Tom too. The Tom that gives a ton of sexual jokes and that is constantly grabbing my ass. I like that Tom too. I just like him better when he's honest and when he's with only one woman at a time." She shrugs and shakes her head, "I like you, Tom. That's what I mean when I say that you've really turned my life upside down. It's a good thing, in a sorta-kinda way." She admits, watching him the whole time to see if his expression changes at all.
And when it doesn't, when he shakes his head, staring in her eyes, she thinks she just blew it for a moment. That is, until he replies, "Good." and swallows back what sounded like a whole mouthful of nausea, "Because you've turned mine upside down too. I mean, the moment we met...I dumped my girlfriend of quite a while. And then the whole don't speak to me thing you went through for a while really hit me hard too, because I literally had no one then. I wanted you, still. So when I got you, I almost screwed it all up again thinking I got you pregnant. So I mean, yeah. You've really flipped mine upside down too. But I think that's a good thing, right? I mean, I learned a lot from you..."
"And I've learned a lot from you, too, Tom." She says, "How to be caring, how to...pick and choose the fights. How to be more patient."
"And I've learned to pull out." He teases lightheartedly, making her give a small smile, "But really, you've taught me to be patient with people, too. And to not be such a jerk. Just in these short few months that we've known each other."
She smiles softly at that thought, then looks back down at her hands in her lap, "Well...I don't want to be late for my nail appointment..." She says, trying to get off such a sappy subject. She's not a sentimental person. Never has been, never plans on being one.
After the relatively short drive to the salon, she grabs her coat again and puts it on before stepping out into the cold, mid-November evening. "Trina." Mel greets at the door, holding it open for the two of them to come in. "Hurry, hurry. It's cold out there." She says, rushing them in.
Trina brushes her arms off and her shoulders, shivering a little bit. "This winter is sure going to be a brutal one, isn't it Mel?" Trina asks, looking at the older woman and smiling softly.
Mel finishes hugging her son and nods, "My poor old bones are getting too brittle for these cold winters." She says, chuckling sadly and going over to her work station. She sits down and starts preparing the filler, then asks, "So, son, what brings you here tonight with my lovely customer?"
He walks in after Trina and pulls a chair up beside her, sitting down and leaning his elbows on the corner of the nail table. "Just wanted to be with her tonight." He shrugs.
Such simple words, but Trina's heart is pounding. She's sure that Mel can see that her heart is beating out of her chest, because all she can do is smirk slyly to Trina and look down to get the polish off of her nails. "Well, that's nice of you." She answers, then continues with, "You two sure are getting serious? Is it just the winter weather making you want a cuddle buddy or is this actually a relationship?"
Trina feels her breath – well, she doesn't feel her breath. That's the issue. She's stopped breathing as she looks over at Tom.
He looks at her, as well, and lays a hand on her upper thigh and turns to face his mother, "We're just taking things one step at a time, ma. I mean, it's more of a relationship than not...but nothing like marriage-material any time soon." He shrugs, looking back at Trina once he finishes. He gives her a sweet smile and squeezes her thigh, "But I think I'll probably keep this one around a while."
Trina rolls her eyes, "You say it like you have a choice?" She teases, smirking and shaking her head while turning back to Mel. "You sure have one hell of a son." She states and looks down at her nails.
Mel smiles and clears her throat, "What color you going with today?"
"Surprise me." Trina says, reaching to grab a cigarette pack from her purse, getting a few out and laying them beside her arm for when she wants them. She lights one up and puffs on it a bit while Mel is turned to the side, picking from her basket of polishes. "Gosh, I really need to cut down on all these. They're costing me too much money." She complains, picking through the other two cigarettes that are laid down beside her, shaking her head and blowing the smoke out.
Mel turns back to the table and shakes a berry-colored polish in her hand, "They're bad for you anyway, hun." She says, shrugging. "At least that's what I say. Doctors still say they're a-ok." She shrugs again and shakes her head, "I still smoke 'em though." She admits and scrunches her nose up in a quiet laugh.
Trina smirks as she purses her lips to blow smoke downward, away from Mel's face. "Well, until I hear that they're killing people? I'm not quitting." She states, and Tom just shakes his head.
"I don't know...I just can't smoke them. I mean, not that kind." He says, pointing to the box that's halfway sticking out from her purse. "They're too damn bitter for me."
"Tommy." Mel warns, eying him for saying such bad words.
"What?!"
"I raised you better than to cuss like that in front of a lady."
"Trina? She's no lady." He teases, nudging Trina's arm that wasn't being worked on by Mel. "Are you, babe?"
"Damn right." Trina replies, smirking toward Mel. "Momma Mel taught me damn well how to cuss like a lady."
Mel winks up at her for a moment before filing the acrylic down, "That's my girl." She says. "Women can cuss in front of men...the other way around is very rude." She snips at Tom, never looking up.
Tom scoffs, but Trina just huffs a laugh, "Yeah, Tommy. It's very rude." She mocks, making Tom roll his eyes a bit and try to not laugh. He was trying to act mad, but it wasn't really working all that well.
After the filler was in place and her left hand was polished, Mel was finishing up her middle finger when she looked up at Trina. "I've been waiting to see if you two will actually make this...official...but I can't really wait any longer because I need to know what size turkey to get." She says, then looks back down to start on her ring finger, "Thanksgiving is coming up next week. It's been a long time since I've had anyone over, and I was thinking that you and Tommy could maybe come over and celebrate the holiday with me..." She says.
Trina picks up the tone of her voice, realizing that she's almost nervous to ask this. Mel may be a somewhat outgoing person on the outside, but maybe she's really just like Trina – someone who tries to act overly friendly so no one gets too close. She looks over at Tom, then shrugs, "I love Thanksgiving and it would be real nice to be able to have a nice dinner."
Tom nods in agreement, smiling softly and giving her a rub on the leg as if to say, thank you for doing this. She turns to Mel and nods, "Sounds great. I can bring a sweet potato pie and a bowl of mashed potatoes with gravy?"
Mel smiles immediately, almost like a woman who's just been told she's going to be a first-time grandmother, "That sounds like a plan."
..
…
A whole week of work goes by quicker than Trina had imagined it to go, quicker than it had in a long time. Maybe it was because she was a little bit nervous about Thanksgiving with Tom's family. Maybe it was because she was non-stop busy because a bunch of women took off for vacation, leaving her to fill in their time. But mostly, she was pretty nervous.
She actually went out and bought a whole new outfit (thanks to her overtime money) for the dinner. She had gotten a perm on Monday, after her shift had ended, and her nails were still a fresh fall color. She looked the part for a dinner with his family.
She takes one last look in the mirror in her room – a tan dress, snug at the top and flowing at the bottom, coming down to the knees. What they call a skater dress. It had brown stripes on the top going around her, and it had long sleeves so she wouldn't completely freeze in the Chicago winter. She grabs the long, bright orange coat off of her bed and covers her body up with it, tying it around her waist and fluffing her hair one last time. It's as good as it's going to get, Trina.
She grabbed oven mitts and the dish of macaroni and cheese she had baked, still hot from the oven, bringing it out to the cab with her. She repeated Mel's address from the napkin it was written down on, and then she was off. Though in normal circumstances the macaroni would've made her legs uncomfortably hot (even on top of the mitts and clothing), she was wonderfully satisfied and even though of taking a warm dish of macaroni everywhere she went this winter.
When she arrived, she wished the cabbie a Happy Thanksgiving and proceeded to make her way through the snow to get to Mel's apartment building. She's standing at the fourth door on the right, second floor, ready to knock. Her heart is up in her throat and she's afraid that when Mel or Tom come to the door, she may drop the dish of macaroni.
She shouldn't be so damn nervous. That's what she keeps telling herself.
Finally, she musters up the courage to knock, and not even a second later Tom opens the door. "Hey babe." He says, a big smile on his face as he leans forward in a nice, button-down, long sleeve shirt. A light, pastel orange. It fit him and his skin tone beautifully. She smiles as he kisses her cheek politely, "Mm, macaroni and cheese?"
"My one and only dish, my specialty." She teases at him, her smile as cheesy as the dish in her hands.
Tom moves back with a grin on his face, moving out of her way to let her in. She steps in after the welcoming gesture from him and looks around. It's pretty much as she imagined it in here.
She can tell that Mel has prepared for this meticulously. Everything in the whole house was spotless – no dust on the television set, no dirt on the burnt orange carpet, not even a hint of a smell of smoke. She somehow has gotten out the smoke smell in this apartment. Besides the cleanliness, she noticed the doll collection Mel had setting on her entertainment cabinet. There were probably twenty dolls, all beautiful and old. She wondered why she collected dolls, and she made a mental note, then, that it would be a good dinner conversation.
Pulling away from her thoughts, Mel comes out of the kitchen with an apron on that had a turkey on the front of it with big eyes, saying, GOBBLE GOBBLE, and her name up at the very top. She's untying it with a big smile written across her face, "Trina! Oh my you look so beautiful!" She says, just as excited as she was when Trina had agreed to dinner and to come be with them for their first Thanksgiving together. "The ham is finishing up, and the turkey is all covered waiting to be carved. The mashed potatoes and the peas are also covered up, the green beans are already out on the table. The stuffing is- OH! The stuffing!" She says, hair-brained like usual when she get in frantic moods.
She runs back into the kitchen and she has Tom chuckling to himself, "She's a mess. She's been cooking all day. Dumplings, stuffing, potatoes, turkey...we'll be stuffed for days. Probably won't even be allowed on the plane due to weight restrictions." He jokes, sitting down on the perfectly vacuumed, cloth, floral print couch.
Smiling, she heads into the kitchen and sets the macaroni and cheese dish down, "Is there anything I can do to help?" What has possessed her to ask such a thing? SHE IS NO HELP IN THE KITCHEN. AT ALL.
"Sure." That's probably the worst answer she could've received in this moment, "Go ahead and stir the dumplings, just make sure they don't burn. And there's candy over there in that bowl that needs mixed with my electric...take your pick." Mel explains, then goes back to her stuffing prep.
Trina turns and takes a deep breath, facing the bowl of candy that needs electric mixing. Surely it can't be too hard. She sticks the tongs in and turns the beaters on low at first, then higher, higher, and- too high. "Oh no!" She exclaims, candy hitting the ceiling and already hardening from it being on the cold surface. Candy hitting Mel's hair, the stove, the refrigerator...everything. And of course all over Trina's new outfit and her perfectly permed hair. "No! No!" She squeals, trying to take the beaters out but it just makes it fly out worse.
"Turn it off, Trina!" Mel yells over the loud noises of her screams. Tom's in there now, and Trina feels her face redden with utter embarrassment when his mother takes the mixer from her hands. She steps backward like a child who has just been scolded for making a mess, then instinctively grabs a rag. She wets it, and immediately cleans all the hard candy for at least twenty minutes while Tom and Mel helped.
Once they finish, she stands and smells the dumplings...they're burning. Mel is trying to get the pot off of the burner and she spills those, too, all over the floor and dripping down the stove. "I-I think I should just go." She says. Clearly, she was not meant to be here.
Not this Thanksgiving, and after the way this one went, maybe not any Thanksgiving with them.
As she's picking up the dish of macaroni, her oven mitt slips out of her hand and the dish breaks all over the floor. Tom looks up from the dumplings, "It's okay, Tri. We'll get it." He says sadly, and all she wants to do is bury her red face in her hands and cry. But instead, she just nods and swallows back that lump in her throat (the one that kinda tastes like nausea, now that she pays attention). She just ruined Mel's kitchen. She ruined the candy and the dumplings. She ruined Mel's apron. She ruined her new outfit. She ruined her and Tom. She ruined Thanksgiving. And she's really not even sure what she's most upset about.
..
…
"Trina? Babe...I know you're listening. You picked up."
She may have picked up, but it was only to hear his voice. She couldn't possibly talk and let him know she's been crying. Her voice was surely all crackly and groggy from her sadness. She just breathed, and that's all he could probably even hear, was her breath.
"I know you're listening, so I'm just gonna say I know you are probably home, crying, upset...but don't be." Why does he read me so well? I'm a closed book. "It's just a little mistake that could've happened to anyone." But it happened to me. Me. The woman who is never ever that embarrassed and who never ever wants to cry outside of her own home. "I still want us to have dinner and ma does too, so please...please come tomorrow night. The kitchen is all fixed up again and we really want you here. Both of us." Why? As if she read Trina's mind, Mel pops into the phone, "It's okay, hun. We aren't mad." She says. Not mad? Livid... "We both want you back tomorrow. Please, babe. Please talk?"
She gives it a moment, but she can't bring herself to say anything. She just puts the phone on the hook and proceeds her crying. It wouldn't have been so bad either, usually, but the pills she's taken for birth control make her more emotional. She didn't like that side-affect, but it was worth it.
She flips her pillow to the other side so she's not lying in a puddle of tears, then closes her eyes and wishes she would go to sleep.
..
…
It's the first day off she's had in a whole week, and it couldn't have come at a better time. She needed the day off. Her eyes were still puffy from last night's hysteria, and her face looked as though she had been bitten by ten bees on each cheek. Her eyelids were droopy, only able to get in three hours of sleep before the sun came up. She felt like shit. Pure. Shit.
The phone rang again, and she answered it, "Hello?"
"Trina..." Tom says, "Baby...please come over today."
"Tom, I can't. I'm so..."
"I know you're embarrassed." He finishes for her. "But things happen. We'll keep you out of the kitchen and we'll play some games and eat a bunch of food. Tri...my mom and I aren't mad. It was all accidental."
She thinks for a moment, then sits down at the chair beside the phone, "It was my first time being with her outside of the nail salon and I had to act like a goofy sixteen year old who didn't know anything about anything. I felt so...naive, Tom." She admits, shaking her head as her nail picks at her bottom lip, thinking of what to say now since he's gone quiet. "I felt like my mother had been right all this time. That I really am just a slutty whore who doesn't even know how to boil water, all I know how to do is have sex. A failure."
"You're not a failure." He answers quickly. "And yeah, okay, maybe you can't cook. But who cares, Tri? I can, and I can even help you if you wanted to learn. Have I ever made you cook?"
She thinks a moment, and all of those days she's woken up at his house, "No..."
"Exactly. And I won't ever make you cook unless you don't come back over for dinner." He replies.
She sniffles into the phone and looks away at the clock. It's already 11:30."
"And?"
"And...there is no and."
"Come early, babe. Let's just talk, drink, have a good time with my mom." He pleads, "We don't have to dress up. Come over in sweats, please, really, because we're both bundled up in our comfy clothes on the couch and on the floor. We just are relaxing and waiting for our day-after-Thanksgiving dinner."
Again, she pauses and thinks. She finally comes up with an answer, bringing her feet up in the chair and her knees to her chest, "Which sweats? The grey or the black?"
"Definitely the black. Black is your color." He says, and the simple little gesture finally made her smile just a teeny bit, but enough.
"Okay." She replies, "I'll be over in a few, as soon as I get dressed and catch cab."
..
…
They were both in their sweats this time as they both came to answer the door. The house wasn't quite as clean, the yapping chihuahua that Mel had kept away in the bathroom (because there was a guest and formal dinner) was now out and sniffing her up and down as she sat down on the couch. "It's okay...I like dogs." She coos, rubbing his back.
He nuzzles up against her sweats and eventually falls asleep there as Mel is warming up all the "leftovers" from last night.
Once it's all finished, they pile in the kitchen with plastic plates and dip their food out onto them, bringing them back to the living room for a completely non-formal dinner. "This is delicious, Mal." She says, smiling sadly over at the woman.
"Thank you, honey." She says, smiling back at Trina.
This was family dinner. Not the formal stuff. This was family.
