G.G. gave a short shake of his head at the offer but stared at his phone for a moment before he accepted the call. “Hey.”
Trevor busied himself with figuring out how to best get the plastic wrap around the bandages. He’d taped the bandages enough they should stay in place once the plastic was removed, and it didn’t really need to stay on that long. Loosely wrapped should do it if he did enough layers to keep the shower spray out. G.G. was still going to have to wash himself one-handed, but Trevor wasn’t thinking about G.G. in the shower while the man was on the phone with… a sibling, Trevor guessed. An older sibling, probably, from what he heard of their tone.
Trevor was familiar with older siblings and tones.
He tore off several sheets of plastic wrap, as large as he could get them without them twisting, left all but one on the island, then came back over to G.G. to proceed.
“No, I wasn’t ignoring messages. I was busy,” G.G. said, looking up to Trevor as though Trevor was going to call him out for something. “I did answer,” he reminded the person on the other end. “No, small projects. Nothing else going on and I didn’t think my input was necessary.”
He apparently wasn’t going to mention his accident.
Trevor raised his eyebrows but stayed quiet.
“So they’re still planning on having the camp?” G.G. moved on from his lie. “Both boys still going?”
The speaker, a woman, said clearly, “If Jay and I can get them there. There’s a bus the day after, but anyone doing the rafting has to get there the day before for safety training.”
“I can drive them.” G.G. was quieter than his sister or maybe sister-in-law. “I have time.”
The offer was immediately refused in a friendly yet distracted tone. “You don’t need to. We’ll handle it. I’m not wasting that deposit on the rafting costs.”
“I could—”
“G.G., save your money for your projects. This isn’t a problem.”
If it had been Trevor’s sister, Trevor would have sarcastically wondered why she’d bothered him with it then. And probably been told he didn’t understand because he didn’t have kids, or something along those lines.
Anyway, if Trevor had to guess, he would have said G.G. was not hurting for money. His objection to the kitchen remodel hadn’t been the expense and Trevor was under the impression kitchen renovations cost a small fortune.
He picked at a twisted corner of plastic wrap, then began to wind it around G.G.’s hand like he was making a mummy out of clear plastic. He pressed his lips together to keep from speaking but he had to wonder how G.G. was close enough to his family to apparently be able to pick them up and drive them somewhere, but none of them were here doing what Trevor was doing for him.
There could be a lot of reasons for that but one immediately came to mind and he didn’t like it.
“Anyway,” said G.G.’s possible-sister while Trevor grabbed more of the pre-cut sheets, “you were quiet, so Mom thought I should ask. But you’re fine, right?” She asked as if she knew the answer or only one answer was acceptable.
“Right,” G.G. agreed. He even sounded pleasant about it. “I’m fine.”
Trevor went back for more plastic wrap from the roll and viciously tore off a chunk. When G.G. ended the call and put the phone down on the nook next to him, Trevor returned to his work and said stiffly, “If that truck is a stick, you wouldn’t have been driving anyway.”
“Going to drive all the way up to the redwoods for me too?” G.G. asked without any anger, then shook his head. “It’s months away. Anyway, she wouldn’t have said yes.”
But he’d offered. And might have done it if she’d agreed. Trevor finished his protective plastic mitten and stepped back. He cleared his throat, put the roll of plastic wrap back where G.G. had had it before, and then opened the lids of the ibuprofen and the antibiotics.
“There’s no point bothering her with the rest,” G.G. continued to explain, though Trevor deliberately had not commented. “She’s too far away to help with anything.”
But close enough for him to drive to her.
Trevor wanted, so fucking much, to push.
He didn’t. He moved the casserole dish to the top of the stove. “This will be fine microwaved, but personally, I’d stick the whole thing in the oven whenever you’re ready to eat. If you need help taking the plastic wrap off, or you need someone to go get you more bandages, feel free to knock on my…our… door.”
He nodded a goodbye that probably did not disguise how bothered he was, or how he knew it was ridiculous for him to be bothered, then went to the kitchen door.
G.G. got up to follow him, walking him to the front door, which was awkward and not even in an ‘end of a date’ way. It was more like making sure the unwanted guest got the hell gone.
At least, it was until Trevor glanced back halfway down the sidewalk and saw G.G. in the doorway, watching him go.
Chapter Nine
