4. The Bitter Pill

CHAPTER 4

THE BITTER PILL

TRINITY

I left the clubhouse after my interaction with Trouble. It was strange that after all these years he still seemed to hold a grudge against me for some reason. I chuckled to myself as I climbed into my Jeep. Seriously, what in the hell had I ever done to cause him to be upset with me? A memory from six years ago hit me that might have explained it - sort of.

I was waiting for Hollywood in the clubhouse bar area when Trouble and his notorious fuck buddy, Natalie, strolled through the common area. They didn’t see me at first, but then again, I was used to being invisible to John Decker for the most part. I watched as Natalie realized I was there and started to tug on his arm to get him to go back to wherever they had just come from. I assumed they had been using one of the many rooms at the clubhouse, but I couldn’t be sure. Hollywood had whined to me about how there weren’t any rooms available for them, so they shared an apartment in Young Harris, near the college. They spent most of their time at the clubhouse or doing whatever it was they did to earn money.

“What is your problem? I told you we only had a little time there. We can’t go back.” They were close enough that I could hear their conversation. John turned toward me and realized I was there. “What in the hell are you doing here? I know Bishop isn’t around right now.”

The venom in his words startled me and for a few minutes, I was left speechless as my brain tried to process the icy tone that I didn’t deserve at all. “Waiting on Hollywood to help me out.”

“You should wait outside then, you aren’t fucking wanted here.” Natalie giggled as I stood to leave, because no way in hell would I sit there like a lump on a log where I wasn’t wanted. No one said a word as I made my way to the door and pulled my cell phone out to tell Hollywood that I’d be outside whenever he was ready.

Trinity: I have to wait for you outside, please don’t take too long.

Hollywood: Why in the hell do you have to wait outside?

Trinity: I don’t know. Sorry, I should have found someone else to help me.

Hollywood: Fuck that. I’ll be down in just a minute.

Just before I got to the door, the President of the club snagged my arm and pulled me close. “You do not have to wait outside.”

“It’s okay. I already told Hollywood that I would.” It was weird that I took to using Carson’s road name with no problem, but I still couldn’t remember to do the same, in my head at least, with John Decker’s.

“Ignore Trouble. He seems to think you’re the one who betrayed him.” Sweet stared at the man in question, though I refused to look back. “He’s a fucking idiot, but then again, so was I for believing the bullshit.” He glanced back at me, as if I was an afterthought, and then nodded his head once and walked toward John and Natalie. Before he got to them, he was intercepted by Quickshot, the club’s VP and they immediately changed direction and headed back to the hallway where I knew the offices were. It took effort, but I refused to glance back at John and Natalie as I pushed through the door and went to stand near my Jeep that was on its last leg. That was why I had been there, I needed someone to help me get from the mechanic’s shop back home, since our towns didn’t have any public transportation to speak of.

Sweet had mentioned that Trouble hated me because he thought I had betrayed him. I had no clue what I was supposedly guilty of doing back then, but I’d be damned if I allowed him to treat me like shit and dismiss me the same way he had all those years ago. If anyone was owed an apology, it was me, because I suffered years of torment in high school thanks to his careless words. Even though that happened, I didn’t think he was aware of the fallout, so there really wasn’t a need for apologies. Still, it wasn’t fair that I was being judged for something I hadn’t done when he had purposely ruined my time in high school. All my poor, pitiful Freshman hopes and dreams of homecoming, prom, parties, and dating had been flushed down the toilet the day that John Decker made a mockery of my crush on him.

“You’re not that girl anymore, Trin.” I whispered to myself as I pulled up at my mom’s house. It was the same house I’d grown up in, but it looked a shambles. The shutters were barely hanging on and it was clear the carpenter bees had a feast on the exterior of the house. All of it spelled money that I didn’t have to put into fixing the place up, considering I’d also taken on my mother’s medical expenses when I moved back to help her out.

With a heavy sigh, I hopped out of my Jeep and made my way into my childhood home. The furniture was all still the same, though a little worse for wear these days. The main difference was that a heaviness clung to the air. I knew what it was, even though I was afraid to put thought to it. Death. Death loomed in the air and waited to take my mother from me. Her cancer had worn her away to nothing more than skin covered bones. Her sunken eyes were the worst thing to see. They lacked the sparkle they’d had when she was younger. Back when she had no problem throwing my brother and me aside for her latest fling, or when she was with my dad and devoted all her time to him while she forgot we were there. Moments like these, when the memories hit hard, made me wonder what I was doing there. I could have said no. I could have stayed in South Dakota, where my uncle had sent me to attend college. His club had a presence there too, and while he was a nomad, he made damn sure that they watched out for me in his absence.

I didn’t have that kind of support here. Granted, there was Hollywood, but he wasn’t responsible for me. I’d gone to the clubhouse to see him because it had been so long, but it would most likely be the last time I stepped foot in the place, unless Bishop was in town and wanted me there. It was clear that Trouble did not, and I knew better than to go where I wasn’t wanted.

“Trinity!” If she could have mustered the energy, my mother would have yelled my name. As if she was entitled to my time, care, and attention. She truly thought she was. In her estimation, she had been mother of the year, since I made it to adulthood without getting killed, hooked on meth, or shipped off to a stint in prison. She had low expectations, so anything that exceeded them was a win for her. She never acknowledged the fact that Uncle Bishop was the reason I had done so well for myself. Not that it mattered now, because the only decent paying job I could get was working for the S.H.E. MC at their strip club. Nothing else paid as well as horny men who believed that one day their fantasies might come true. Granted, my mother didn’t know that’s what I did to pay the bills. She wouldn’t necessarily be scandalized, considering who she was and what she had gotten up to over the years, but she would give me a ration of shit if she ever found out. I was supposedly the good girl. The one who went and made something of herself. I had done that. That life was back in Spearfish while I was in Georgia trying to figure out how to care for my dying mother and pay for everything when I was on an unpaid leave of absence from my job up there.

“Trinity!” She called out again, a bit more desperation in the sound.

“Coming, Momma.”

I could tell by the stench that greeted me that Momma had soiled herself while I was gone, and I wanted to cry in frustration over not being able to dip out for a few minutes without this type of thing happening. Sheila Murphy was supposed to be here while I was gone. She was a neighbor who I paid to sit with my mom when I couldn’t be here. “Momma, where is Sheila?”

Mom’s face turned red with embarrassment. “I told her I had to take a shit, and that old bitty up and left me here.”

“She just left?” I asked, exasperated by the situation we were in.

“She told me there was no way she could help me on and off the bed, let alone on and off the toilet.” Momma tried to shrug and ended up wincing instead, as even the slightest movement caused her terrible pain. She gasped for breath, having said way too much, too fast, thanks to how angry she was. “Then she told me you didn’t pay her enough to wipe my ass for me.”

My mother wouldn’t meet my eyes as she told me that part. I understood. It was hard to be at someone’s mercy, and even harder to know that simple things, like going to the bathroom were no longer a possibility. I waved away her final words. “No worry, she was always a shitty friend anyway.” It was true. Sheila and my mother had been friends long before I even came along. I wasn’t sure what caused the rift in their friendship, but considering it happened around the same time my dad took off, I had my theories. They were theories that went unconfirmed, and Sheila had been the one to call me after all those years I spent away, to tell me that my mother needed help. I thought they must have worked through whatever had broken their friendship, but obviously I’d been mistaken.

“You should just throw me in a home and be done with me,” My mother muttered. It wasn’t the first time she’d said as much. When I first came back to town, she told me the same thing.

“Now, why would I go and do something like that?” I asked her.

To my shock, she answered me. “We both know I wasn’t the best mom to you, especially after Tommy left.” It hurt to hear my dad’s name. He should be the one here caring for mom. She was still his wife, after all, since he had only taken off and failed to give her a divorce beforehand. Then again, my mother likewise hadn’t taken steps to divorce him, even though she officially changed back to using her maiden name as if they had divorced.

“No matter what, you’re still my mom.”

She gave the slightest of nods before she turned her head away. Whenever she had an accident that I had to clean up, she always looked away, as if doing so would change the fact that it was her daughter who had to wipe the crap off her ass. I pulled the trash can close and started the process of getting my mother cleaned up when I heard something behind me.

“Hey, crazy girl, you left the door unlocked!” I turned just in time to see Hollywood come into view. I quickly threw the covers over my mom’s exposed lower half and then cringed because I wasn’t done getting her cleaned up yet.

“Get out!” My mom yelled, though it took her breath away to do so. She started into a hacking fit as a result and I had to quickly clean my hands and get her oxygen onto her face, to help her catch her breath.

“Sorry, I’ll wait in the living room for you,” Hollywood called out as he turned and walked away.

“How could..” My mom sucked back oxygen and then tried to again. “You forgot…” Once more, she had to take a few breaths behind her mask before she continued. It pained me to see what she had to go through just to get a simple sentence out after one of her attacks. “Lock door…” The redness that creeped into her cheeks was only one small sign of how embarrassed she was.

“Sorry, mom. I didn’t think anyone would just come waltzing in. I’ll have a talk with Carson about that.”

“Bishop should have married me after your father left,” she managed to get out with some effort.

“Well, Bishop has a thing with Carson’s mom, and there’s the problem that you’re technically still married to his brother too.” I rolled my eyes, since she couldn’t see them as I leaned down and continued to clean her up. “I’m going to have to wash the top sheet and blanket for you.”

Momma gave me a look that said she blamed me for that entirely. “I’ll get you mine to use, so you won’t be cold.” She gave the slightest hint of a nod and then turned as best she could, to her side to face the wall away from the door. I wrapped up all the soiled items in a bundle and carried them from her room to the utility room. They would have to wait a moment, because Momma’s skin was so thin, she caught a chill quickly.

“I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” Hollywood asked.

“I need to get Momma another blanket before she gets too cold. We’ll talk when I’m done.” I left the soiled laundry, and Hollywood, behind as I went to my room to get the blanket from my bed. There used to be more in the house, but who knows what my mother had done with everything in my absence. Once I got her tucked in snugly, I glanced over to see that it was thirty minutes past the time she was supposed to take her pain medication. I blew out a frustrated breath, got up and went to the bathroom where I had a locked box installed for her medications, and grabbed what was needed. Momma couldn’t be trusted to administer her own because she could never remember which ones she had taken and which she hadn’t. I brought it back to her and she groaned audibly.

“Don’t want no more pills.”

“Momma, if you don’t take these now, the pain will be unbearable later. You’re already late getting them.”

“And whose fault is that?” She snapped at me. I wished I could say she looked chagrined over the fact, but my mother felt entitled to her anger. As far as she was concerned, I should drop her in a home - that neither of us could afford - or be there for her 24-7, which was something I couldn’t afford. Unless Momma had somehow come into a bunch of money I knew nothing about, I still had to work while I cared for her. Obviously, Sheila couldn’t be counted on to help any longer, so that left me with yet another problem.

I moved closer and tried to give Momma her pill. “NO!” She shouted at me.

“Momma, you have to!” I demanded.

“No! No! No!” It felt like dealing with a toddler in the midst of a tantrum instead of trying to give my 52-year-old mother her pain medication. “No! Stop trying to kill me!” She shouted again. I noticed, from the corner of my eye, that Hollywood was back.

“Hey there, Evelyn. You giving your daughter a hard time?” He called out to her. That stopped her from using up all her energy to avoid me. “Why don’t you take your meds like a good girl, and maybe I’ll tell you all about how my last date went.”

“Is it a dirty story?” My mother asked him.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Nah. This one is funny though.”

“Don’t wanna laugh. I like the dirty ones better.”

I widened my eyes at Hollywood and wondered when he had ever been by to tell my mother dirty stories about his dates.

He laughed again. “Fine, then I’ll tell you a filthy tale about the last one I went out with. It involves me getting tied up for a change.” He winked at my mother and she blushed but opened her mouth for me to place the pill on her tongue. She took a sip of the water from the glass I held up for her and made a horrible face as she swallowed everything down.

“Tastes bad.”

“Yeah, Momma, those pills are often bitter.”

“Tastes like I’m dying,” she added.

I tried my best to keep the tears at bay, but that was a lost cause when Hollywood came over and put a hand down on my shoulder and gave a squeeze.

“No story,” My mom managed to get out as she tucked in further to her pillow and closed her eyes.

I patted her hand and then got up and walked back into the living room with Hollywood hot on my heels. The sound of the washing machine filling caught my attention and my watery gaze moved back to Hollywood. “You put everything in the wash?”

“Figured it was the least I could do, since the blanket being dirty was my fault.”

“Thank you,” I whispered as he pulled me into his arms.

“Tell me everything, and no sugar coating things now.”

“I think it’s you who should tell me about the dirty stories you’ve been telling my mom.” He laughed and planted a kiss on the top of my head.

“How about we fill one another in on everything that we’ve missed over the past six years and then go from there?”

“Okay.”