Trevor has already wrapped his hand in a rag and is reaching into the oven and pulling out the pan. He drops it on the counter and the aroma is a sharp punch of overwhelming saccharine.
“Don’t it smell good?” Trevor rests his head in his arms beside the cake and breathes in, eyes wide and waiting.
I laugh. “Smells like you dropped a whole bottle of syrup in it. Gotta cool now, might as well go do something else. Whatchu wanna do?”
I wrap my arms around his stomach and pick him up, then set him back on the ground.
“Can we go swimming?” he asks.
“Told you I ain’t going in no shit pool.”
Trevor stops in the doorway, turns to look at me. His face cradles his eyes like they are fragile and ready to roll.
“Please.”
Trevor takes one of my hands and laces his fingers through it, tugs on me lightly.
“Don’t even know how to tread no water,” I tell him.
His whole face lights up, cheeks rising. “I’ll teach you.”
I never said yes, but Trevor knows my ability to refuse him is waning and he drags me out the door, down the stairs. I try to pull back, but all that basketball has Trevor’s stringy arms building enough muscle to fight against me.
Down by the pool, I tell him I don’t got a swimsuit.
“Nobody swims in no swimsuit.” And before I can even argue, he’s taking off his shirt and shorts, standing there in his boxers, looking like a mix of bony child and growing muscles.
The things I do for this kid.
I take my shirt off, then my jeans, leaving only a sports bra and underwear.
“It’s best if you just jump in, makes it a little easier.” Trevor reaches out for my hand again and we stand together at the edge of the pool. “Count to three.”
I don’t count, but Trevor does it for the both of us. On three, we jump, and I feel like I’ve been catapulted straight into the ocean. All I can think is There’s shit in this pool. Still, I haven’t showered in a couple days and the water is a cool relief. We jumped into the shallow end, so I find my footing on the floor of the pool and stand, wiping my eyes. Trevor is already above the surface, grinning so big I think his cheeks might pop out his face and start dancing.
“Now what?” I ask him, spitting out water.
“Move your arms like this, like you a frog.” Trevor swims to the deep end, cups his hands, and fans his body out, back and forth, like a snow angel in reverse.
After a couple minutes, he turns around and swims back to me.
“Don’t know how you expect me to stay up like that.”
He reaches for my arm and pulls me into the deep end. “Now start moving, I’ll hold you up.”
Trevor holds on to one of my hands, keeping me tethered, and I try to make my other arm move like his did, coordinated and frog-like. It’s not listening to me, though, flapping around in the water aimlessly.
“Don’t be afraid of the water. It ain’t gonna hurt you.” Trevor’s hand stays in mine.
I let my head submerge into the water and then come up for air. It’s really not so bad when you breathe into it. I like the sound of my breath when I’m under, a gurgle that floats off into nothing. If this was the bay, I’m sure every sea creature would hear my sounds travel through the molecules. Nothing got an end in the water.
Pretty soon, my arm is moving kinda like Trevor’s, except there’s a lot more splashing and my feet don’t follow in sync. My free arm is flapping while my feet swirl the water in violent half circles. Trevor lets go of my other hand and I’m staying above water, at least for a moment.
I panic and the rhythm of my arms dissolves into whatever movement will keep me from drowning. I start to swim until I reach the end of the pool and then pivot around. My feet touch the edge of the pool and I push off, glide through the water, feel like I’m flying. I start my hand motions again, coming up for air and trying to blink the water off my eyelashes before I dive back under. Can’t see much of anything. Except a flash of shoes. Back beneath the surface. A pocket of deep blue. Water submerges. Trevor’s eyes spinning.
My feet hit pool bottom and I stand to the sight of uniforms that shouldn’t be this familiar and Trevor standing waist-deep in the pool, looking down at his stomach like he’s waiting for blood to gush out an invisible wound.
I’ve never been this close to a woman cop before, but she is the one kneeling down at the edge of the pool. She is the one that looks at me like I best put some clothes on. As much as I want to sink back into the water, I know I gotta get Trevor in some clothes and safe before they start asking him about where his mama is. We don’t got no space to deal with Child Protective Services too.