Page 44 of Always a Roommate
I hadn’t even considered where people like Trevor went during hurricanes. Setting the full bag of food in front of him, I took a seat and gestured to it.
“There’s enough for both you and Cane.”
Trevor’s eyes lit up as he pulled out the scones. “What’s this?” he asked, holding up the small quiche.
“It’s like an egg pie. Mariana makes it as quiche lorraine, so it has bacon in it. I figured you could use some protein.”
“You’re such a mom,” he muttered, a tilt to his lips.
I couldn’t help smiling at his comment as I watched him feed Cane more than half the food. The dog looked like he needed it.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to know. “Are you homeless, Trevor?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I have a home.”
I thought for a moment he wasn’t going to say anything more, but maybe he needed to tell someone.
“I just don’t really want to be there.” He absently rubbed Cane’s head and chewed on a bite of scone.
“Shane—Mr. Kelly says your dad is sick.”
He shifted his eyes away and continued to chew. Once he swallowed, he said, “He is… he can’t stop.”
“Can’t stop what?”
“It started with medication after he hurt his back working on a road crew.”
I knew this story. It was an all too familiar one in the news these days. Someone needed medication for an injury, and they got hooked on oxy, eventually leading to other, darker things. There were a lot of orphans and single parents who’d lost life as they knew it to overdoses.
“Your father is a drug addict.”
He didn’t nod; he didn’t need to. I read the truth in his expression.
“Why don’t you go home, Trevor? Does he hit you?”
“No! He’d never… no. I just… he’s never there, not really. He doesn’t see me. I can’t be around him when he’s like that. It’s better to be on my own.”
I couldn’t help it, I was a meddler, but I’d come to the realization a long time ago that some things only grew worse when I got involved, some people didn’t want questions. I’d learned to read it in their postures, their expressions. And Trevor was giving off serious fight-or-flight vibes.
So, I changed course. “Tell me about Cane. Why did he keep you from school?”
A sheepish smile appeared on his lips, and it warmed me that he could still form such an expression. “I couldn’t leave him alone. He’s been skittish ever since the storm, following me around town, sleeping with me. It didn’t seem right to go where he couldn’t.”
I looked down to find Cane staring up at me under the table, his weight pressed against my leg.
“He likes you,” Trevor said.
“That happens when you bring a dog food.”
He shook his head. “No, he knows we can trust you.”
I wasn’t sure how he’d come to that conclusion, but I was glad. Until his next statement.
“You can’t tell Mr. Kelly anything I told you. I don’t want to be put in some foster home that isn’t likely to be any better than what I have.”
“But—”
“Promise me.”
