CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Trina woke up later that night, got up and peed and washed her hands, and then got back in bed. It had been a long day. A shooting in a town this size? The people at the crab boil said it never happened before. Not in the entire history of the town. But they showed up and suddenly there was a shooting? That didn’t smell right to Trina. And even though all indications were that it wasn’t about them in any way, shape, or form, she couldn’t lie. She was even more on edge than she already had been. Coincidences just didn’t happen around them. They just didn’t. She was worried.
But when she inched her body further over to feel the comfort of Reno beside her, she felt nothing but air against her nakedness. When she turned around and actually looked at her husband’s side of the bed, she realized that Reno wasn’t in bed.
Now even more worried, she got up, put on her bathrobe, and went up front. She couldn’t find Reno anywhere downstairs. But when she looked out of the big front window and saw Dom sitting out on the porch, she went outside too.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked as she leaned against the wooden porch rail and folded her arms.
Dom had on shorts and a beer in his hand. “Just getting some fresh air. But I’m not gonna lie, Ma. I love it out here.”
“You love it?” Trina was surprised to hear him say that. She looked at the rundown houses, the dirt road, the stray dog sleeping at Dom’s feet. “What’s there to love?”
Dom smiled. “Everything, Ma. It’s something about this place. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something peaceful here.”
“Peaceful? Dommi, we all nearly got killed at that crab boil and you’re calling it peaceful?”
Dom smiled that innocent smile Trina hadn’t seen on her son in years. “I know it’s crazy, Ma,” he said. “I’m not saying it’s not crazy, because it is. I’m a city boy. A city gangster, let’s be honest. What I know about the country? But I can’t help it,” he said as he looked at his puzzled mother. “I love it here.”
In that moment, Trina believed him. And she nodded her head. “Good,” she said. “I’m glad there’s somewhere in the world you love.”
Dom smiled and gulped down more beer.
Then she added: “How many of those beers you had?”
Dom laughed. “This is the only one, Ma. I’m not drunk on beer; I’m drunk on love.”
He made Trina smile. “Oh boy please,” she said.
“And the people,” Dom said. “They seem so innocent, you know? Like they don’t have a clue because they don’t need to.”
“And the way people have been taking advantage of them,” Trina said.
“You know why this black town have a white sheriff and a white mayor nobody can stand?”
Trina looked at her son. “Why?”
“Because every grown up in this town is a felon.”
Trina was floored. “In this town? How can that be?”
“They get them on stupid stuff, like a traffic violation. They changed lanes wrong on these dirt roads where there are no lanes, or something asinine like that,” said Dom. “In this county, that’s a felony. And since they all have felonies, they can’t vote. Which means the mayor and sheriff run unopposed every four years.”
Trina shook her head. “That’s a crying shame.”
“And guess what? Neither the sheriff nor the mayor live in Washwater. They both live in Tutwiler.”
Trina shook her head again. “God’s gonna get them for what they’re doing to these people. Mark my words.”
“Tell me about it,” said Dom. “And you should have seen the way the sheriff treated them when he showed up. Like they were nothing.”
“I saw it,” said Trina. Then she exhaled. “But it is what it is, Dommi. We have our own problems. We can’t get caught up in that shit. Not yet anyway.”
Dom nodded. “True that,” he said as he took another gulp of beer.
Then she leaned against the banister, folded her arms, and looked at the dog. “Who’s that?”
“Dog.”
“Yeah, but what’s his name?”
“Dog.”
“Come on, Dominic. You could have given him a better name than that.”
“I didn’t give him any name. Pop gave him that name. He don’t like dogs.”
“He don’t like anything,” said Trina.
Then Dom looked at his mother. He knew why she was out there, but she didn’t want to ask it. He knew she was tired of everybody thinking she was a sucker for their father. So he brought it up instead. “He went off, Ma.”
Trina looked at him. “When did he leave?”
“It was something like ten tonight.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“Nope.”
“Did you ask?”
“Me and Jimmy both asked.”
“What did he say?”
“You know Daddy’s not gonna tell me or Jimmy or anybody else where he’s going. He said it was none of our business. They may call him Tyrone around here, but he’s still Reno fucking Gabrini.”
Trina smiled, but Dom could see her gloom. “You know, Pop,” he said, trying to assuage her. “He’s always restless. He’s always got his hands into something.”
Or somebody , Trina wanted to say, but she didn’t. She small-talked with Dommi for a few minutes more, reminded him that they had to get up early for work tomorrow, and she took herself to bed.
Two hours later, just after she had fallen asleep, she woke up to the sound of the bedspring being pressed down. She turned around, onto her side, and saw Reno sitting on the side of the bed undressing.
“Where have you been?”
“I went for a drive.”
“A drive where, Reno?”
But Reno, now naked, got in bed beside her.
“A drive where?”
“Just a drive, Trina, dang. Turn over.”
“Your scared ass don’t be just driving around no Mississippi. Where were you, Reno?”
“I told you I went for drive. Period.” he said as he pulled her naked body into his arms.
“Where did you drive to?”
“Nowhere. Just a drive. Now turn over.”
Trina looked at him as if she could kick his ass, but she knew he wasn’t going to tell her anything. Nobody kept tabs on him was his motto their whole marriage and it was too late to expect that to change. It was the one point of pride he wasn’t ever giving up, and she knew it.
“Come on, Tree,” Reno begged as he rubbed his penis against her.
If it wasn’t for his skills, she would have told him what he could do with that rod in his hand. But the boy had skills. She turned around.
With her back now to Reno, he prepped her and then entered her with a nice thrust. As always, it was a tight entry and they both loved it.
And then he began stroking her in slow, almost slow-motion strokes. Which did calm her back down. Which did make her willing to accept what she couldn’t change. She was at that fork in the road they seemed to drive up on every single week. Sometimes she gave him hell about it. Sometimes she cut him slack. But this was not the time. They were in hiding for a reason, and she wasn’t about to make it about her. She had to trust Reno, she decided, as he moaned and groaned and did her like he couldn’t get enough of her. As he made her feel like she was his one and only queen. As she wiped away the tears as they fell from her eyes.