“Thanks.” His friend nodded to them both. “And good morning, Deb.”
“Hey, Matt,” she said tiredly. Matt gave her a slightly concerned look, then shrugged and headed off to do his own organizing. Once he was gone Deb turned to Trev, looking almost fearful. “What are we getting started on?”
“Commemorating the Gulf refineries attack one year ago,” Trev replied, getting back to his chores as the brown-haired woman moved to help.
She looked relieved. “Oh. I thought it was bad news about Rogers.” She brightened. “He wants us to help with the preparations?” He nodded. “Good! I always liked setting up a party.”
Trev wasn’t sure he’d call it that, but he wasn’t about to jump on her for a harmless slip. He was just tired and on edge from everything that was going on.
Working together they finished up their chores, and Trev popped in to tell his family what he was doing. Minor alarm bells rang when he saw that Jim and Linda were nowhere to be seen, and his mom and dad were standing shoulder to shoulder in that “unified front” stance he remembered from the few times he’d been in serious trouble as a kid.
“Have a seat, Trevor,” his mom said gently but firmly, motioning. Not to his cot, nearest the door, but to Linda’s closest to the stove. Which would effectively put him where they could corner him for a serious discussion.
Just that suddenly he felt like a kid again, and it was an effort not to hunch his shoulders guiltily. “Um, Matt wanted me and Deb to help him set up a ceremony to commemorate the Gulf refineries attack,” he hedged.
His dad glanced apologetically at Deb, who’d been peeking inside curiously around Trev’s arm. “Good morning, Deb. Could you give us a few minutes with our son?”
“Of course, Mr. Smith,” she said. They were all familiar enough by this point that she usually called his parents by their first names, but she’d caught on to the mood. “I’ll get started with Gutierrez, then probably Trent.”
Blast, she was happy to send him into the lion’s den. Trev couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he’d done here, but his parents were generally easygoing so it had to be something. He reluctantly shut the door behind him as Deb waved and walked off, then trudged to plop down on the edge of Linda’s cot.
“Okay, let me have it.”
His parents sat down across from him on their own bed, looking as serious as Trev had ever seen them. “You’re not in trouble, son,” his dad began. “But I think we need to have a serious discussion.”
Those two statements seemed contradictory. “About what?” he asked warily.
His mom took a breath. “We’d like to ask you a few questions. I don’t want you to give knee jerk answers, or actually really any answers at all. I want you to keep emotion out of it and do your best to look at the questions from all angles. In fact, I don’t even want you to assume that the questions I’m asking beg a certain correct answer, or that any answer is correct.”
Trev’s wariness was giving way to pure confusion. “What?”
They were both having trouble meeting his eyes, especially his dad, who was staring awkwardly somewhere off to his right. He seemed content to let Clair do the talking for them. “First, is it possible that you can’t give Deb the help she needs?” she began.
The question, circumspectly approached as it was, still hit Trev like a load of bricks. “What?” he said again, anger instantly there.
His mom held up a stern hand. “No emotion, no knee jerk responses.”
“Forget that!” Trev said, starting to stand. Only then did he remember that his parents had picked their seats to put him against the wall. That just made him angrier. “Do you go and sit Lewis down when Jane walks off in the middle of a conversation without a word? Do I go all psychoanalyst when Mary starts humming songs pertaining to whatever situation she’s in because she’s too shy to talk?”
“She does what?” his dad asked, looking befuddled.
Trev ignored him. “How about when Linda can’t seem to figure out the world’s ended and still insists on acting like a spoiled princess? Have you sat her down for a “serious discussion”? Did you corner Jim about how he makes it worse by getting on her case in all the wrong ways that won’t solve anything?”
Their expression had grown more stern. “Please, Trev,” his mom said. “We’re not just talking about personality quirks or sibling rivalry here. Deb’s been through serious trauma, and it really looks like—” she abruptly cut off. “No, sorry. You’re right, we’re not going to analyze her state of mind. We really do just want to ask some questions and have you seriously consider them.”
Trev sat. He loved and respected his parents, and he knew they had his best interests at heart. But he really, really wasn’t a fan of this situation. The best he could do was sit and wait for her to continue.
His mom took another breath. “Second. Is it possible that the help you’re giving her might not be beneficial to either of you?”
A short silence settled. Trev was keeping quiet mostly because he was afraid anything he said would become another outburst.
His parents seemed to realize it. “And finally,” his mom said. “People jokingly call Deb your deputy because she’s always at your side. Do you think it’s healthy that she’s afraid to be alone, or even around other people besides you, and depends on your presence for her emotional peace of mind? Even when it’s detrimental to you, like when she regularly wakes you up at night to reassure her?”
Trev gave a start of surprise. He hadn’t realized anyone else knew about that. Sure, maybe they’d seen it happen once or twice. But he’d thought nobody knew it was a common occurrence.
“You and mom are practically joined at the hip whenever you can manage it,” he shot off. It was a cheap retort, and lacked any conviction.
“Again, you know it’s not the same,” his mom answered. She leaned forward to put a hand on Trev’s knee. “I know you care about Deb, honey. I care about her too, and so does everyone else. We want her to be able to get past what she’s suffered. But that might mean that she needs to face her problems head on rather than hiding behind you to escape them. I know we don’t have any licensed therapists in town, but there are people she could talk to. You know things will only get worse if you let them continue like they are.”
Trev closed his eyes. “All right, I’ll consider your questions.” He tried to keep the edge out of his voice as he continued. “If you’ll consider that maybe being around someone safe and familiar until she’s had time to recover from what she suffered is exactly what she needs.”
His dad finally spoke up. “We did consider that, son. My motto has always been to avoid butting into other people’s relationships, since it usually doesn’t help and only makes everyone angry at you. But things seem to be getting worse with your situation, and you know I have to have serious concerns if I’m speaking up now. Concerns your mother and many others share.”
Many others. Trev was surprised the busybodies hadn’t all packed into this small room for their little intervention. He stood again, more controlled this time. His parents silently shifted to let him by, and he wasted no time leaving.
All things considered he wasn’t looking forward to seeing Deb at the moment, not with all his parents’ doubts packed into his mind. But when he went around to Gutierrez’s house his friend told him she hadn’t been by yet, and Trent told him the same at the Lincoln cabin. She seemed to have disappeared.
In a way that was a relief. He was certain nothing had happened to her in the middle of town, and tracking her down gave him time to think about what to do about her. About them. It wasn’t an easy decision, but he wasn’t about to ignore his parents if the situation was raising red flags.