BMB: Version 1-1

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, and it was created solely by me as the author. Any similarities to characters, businesses, places, or things are all happenstance, though my appreciation to those who have inspired my works is immense.

Author's Note: This entire series is based on the same characters, places, and general situations, but will be shared in the form of five different versions. I'm hoping you'll appreciate the various approaches as they are posted. And be aware, some versions go into certain details more than others, so remaining calm and awaiting the next installment may be necessary, but I assure you, it'll be worth it. Questions and comments are welcome. I hope everyone will be kind. An incredibly huge amount of appreciation must go out to BiscuitHammer who gave me the push to finally share my own work.

BMB: Version 1-1

I should have known better than to go. I should have caught on quicker. But I didn't. I just wanted the chance to go out and actually do something with someone rather than to be stuck at home without someone to do it with.

My name is Trinity Powers, and I have many titles. More than anything, I value the title of partner the most, if I'm being honest. How I got here and why I'm reflecting on this now is a whole story within a story. I guess I should start at the beginning.

Six months ago, on Wednesday, June 28, I moved from a rather large city in Illinois where I'd lived my entire life to a small town in New York. I was following a job lead and got way more than I had bargained for. Five months later, I turned 27. And right now, I'm wondering if I'll make it to 28 and if I'll ever get to tell my partner that I love him too.

I am the only daughter of David and Marie Powers, but I'm not short on brothers. I have six of them. They're all older, and while I treasure my time with them, the chances to be close with them are few and far between. My parents are cool, ride motorcycles on cross-country trips, and are enjoying their 60s immensely. I don't know for sure, but I'm fairly certain their sex life is part of that excitement. I'm happy for them, sure, but I definitely don't think about it and cannot stress enough the need to not hear about it. Don't think they haven't tried to hint at it.

I grew up the youngest which meant they were already done with my youth before it was really over. They had plans to go do big things while I was still in high school. I managed to get two years of college done before finally taking the hint and getting ready to move out. Fortunately, I'd met Mark who'd asked me to marry him. We were married the summer after I earned my associates and moved into the house I lived in until I moved to New York.

Mark and I met when we were both employed by the local supermarket. Oh, he was so sweet. We began talking one day, and before we knew it, we were dating. Things were not all hot and heavy like some relationships, but I loved him for sure. We waited until the wedding night to experience our first time with sex and learned to enjoy one another as we grew up, found better jobs, and finished college. He was a couple years older than me, but he'd started his college journey later so that he could build up the funds for a nice savings account which enabled us to purchase a house just before we got married.

Christiane made us a family of three after a year of marriage, and two years later, Irelyn joined us. We doted on our girls and enjoyed their personalities and giggles so much. I was able to stay at home with them, and Mark continued to bring in a comfortable income. I was so blessed. We were so blessed.

For Mother's Day weekend, Mark surprised me with quite the gift. He'd taken off that Friday and announced that he was packing up the girls to take them away on a trip. He told me as he filled their suitcase that he knew I worked so hard to be such a wonderful wife and mother. To reward those efforts, he was going to bring the girls to his mom's house to spend the weekend with her. I got to have the house, the nice, clean, quiet house, to myself to do whatever I wanted.

He spent the time with his mom so I could have some alone time with myself. I was beyond grateful for such a thoughtful gift. I'd miss them, sure, but it'd only be for two days and then my little family would be back together again. I scrapbooked, played loud girly music, watched chick flicks and cried way more than I usually did just because I could do it without anyone watching me, and I took naps, ate whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, and enjoyed an awesome alcoholic beverage with lunch that Sunday.

I got the call that Mark was on his way home with the girls at around 6:30pm. His mom had loved the visit and even thanked me for letting them come spend the weekend with her. We laughed as we discussed just a few things the girls did and said. I told her I'd have Mark text her to let her know when they got home. She never got that text.

A drunk driver ran a stop sign hitting and killing my little family on impact. Mark's mom assured me the girls were most likely asleep meaning they had probably felt nothing. The police officer said the hit was direct and hard, so Mark was dead before he knew what had hit him. It's interesting. I know the truck got hit and rolled and destroyed by that car, but it was my world that got the most thrown upside down.

The life of a brand new, 25-year-old widow is difficult to describe. The looks, the stares, the pity, the avoided eye contact, and the countless casseroles. And for whom? Why do people think staring at me is going to answer any questions they have? The pity? It did me no good. The head tilts and lack of eye contact only made me feel off kilter. And the casseroles ended up being thrown away, all except for the one my mom made me. Hers was the only one I would have liked anyways.

Preparing for the wake was mind-numbing. All the questions. All the answers. All the options. Knowing I'd be sitting there being told how sorry all these people were for the loss of the three most important people in my life, as if their sad looks, hugs, and mostly empty words would change anything. But I smiled sadly and hugged them back and thanked them for coming because that's what we do in such situations. It wasn't their fault my family died. And I would have done the same for them had the roles been reversed.

The funeral was lovely, and the priest who'd presided over our wedding, dined with us a few times a year, seen us weekly at Mass, and baptized our children gave the most perfect homily. He knew us well, so each word he shared was from his heart. It was the burial that hurt me the most. That made it final, and my heart wasn't ready to let them go.

I sat there in the front row and listened to the final prayers and watched as each person went up and touched their caskets. I cried as I watched his mom kiss Mark's casket and sob as she said her final goodbyes. And I got up and hugged his only sister after she lovingly touched her nieces' caskets and then kissed her hand and touched Mark's casket.

Everyone left for the reception, everyone but me. I just couldn't do it yet. I nodded when Mark's mom and sister told me they'd head there and make sure everything went well until I got there. But I couldn't go yet. My brother knew that, so Steve stayed and waited to take me to the reception hall an hour later. I hadn't even known he was there until a half hour had passed.

I knelt at the side of Christiane's and Irelyn's caskets and told them I'd always love them. I'd always be their mama. I'd always treasure the time we had together because I was so proud, so honored to have been able to know and love them. I then turned to Mark's casket and thanked him for the beautiful life we'd shared and for the daughters we had created together. I told him I'd always remember his recipe for the pulled pork we made together and promised to season it just right to make him proud.

I asked him to stay with the girls so they knew at least one person up there. I worried that they'd be lost having never known anyone who'd died in their short lifetimes. I cried knowing I knew far too many people who'd passed away, two of whom should surely never have seen death before their own mama. Oh, how my heart hurt so. Knowing I'd never see, hear, hug, feel, love on, and laugh with them again. Oh, the immensity of such a broken heart! I could not imagine feeling whole again.

Steve came to sit next to me as I stared off at the corner of the tent thinking of everything and nothing all at the same time. He sighed and wrapped his arm around me. "You going to let me take you to the hall now?" I nodded against his shoulder. "Yeah? No fight with your big brother today? Huh, wonders never cease." He squeezed me to him and stood up as I did.

It was when he pulled me into his arms and hugged me that made me feel the first touches of warmth, comfort, and peace. "Listen," he whispered. "Trinity, no one should experience what you are going through, but sometimes, well, sometimes things like this happen. Life is going to continue to be kinda difficult, but you're not alone." He squeezed me in the hug he'd continued giving me. "I'm going to stay home, with you, for the next two months, or at least until you're sick of me. I'll stay out of your way. I'll work from there and fly to the job site if needed, but I'm going to be here. Alright? You are not alone."

I stepped back and looked up into his eyes. "Really?" I asked him and couldn't wipe the shock off my face. He just nodded. "Thanks, Steve," I told him and nodded. "You really are the best big brother."

"I know," he sighed and began walking toward his car. "I've been telling you this for years."

The next month and a half were difficult, but not at all as bad as it would have been doing it alone. I gained a new routine, worked on emptying my house of all the items which didn't need to be there, including Mark's and the girls' things which all went to a few different families in need. I changed my name back to my maiden name and got all the insurance and anything else pertaining to Mark or the girls handled.

By Father's Day, I was officially a single, independent, and self-sufficient 25-year-old woman. I began a new job the day after Father's Day and said my goodbyes to my brother a week later. The following week ended up being the hardest week of my life, ironically. It was the first time since the weekend Mark and the girls had been gone that I was actually alone. Someone was always there from the night I'd found out they'd died until the day Steve got on the plane to head back home.

My best friend, Jen, offered to move in with me to help with the loneliness, but I turned her down. She would have left her roommate high and dry, and I didn't want to make her do that. She ended up calling every single day until it was just part of our routine. If I didn't hear from her or if she didn't hear from me, it was a rare occasion.

I joined a widow support group which helped some. I remember one thing I learned out of every meeting I had attended and kept it close to my heart for the "someday." A woman spoke up and shared that she had finally found that she was comfortable going out on a date. Several spoke up that they knew they were just not ready for that. Several voiced that they had tried but just couldn't do it. A few shook their heads to agree that the time was not there yet for them for sure.

"There will come a time," she told the group, "that you will see the right person or have a different feeling and just know that the time is right, the person is right, the feeling is right." I could not imagine anyone, any feeling, any time that it would feel right. But I was young, and I was still raw. There was still a chance, I knew it in my heart. I just didn't know when or how or who, but I believed the time would come.

It was on Mother's Day the following year that I made a decision to make a change in my life. I needed to move away and make a life of my own. I needed to try to get a job out of state, buy my own house, meet some new people, and see a part of the country which wasn't what I'd always known.

By the next day, I'd sent resumes to six different companies in six different states. It was when I had researched the one in New York that I began to feel like that was the place to go, the place to work, the place to set up my new life. There were great things about the other states, but there was just a pull I could feel for the job in New York.

I wrote to the owner of BMB, the initials of Build More Bikes, Tom Parker. I shared my desire to work for him, for his company, and my ideas for a way to build his business without having to expand wildly. I made the claim that I'd be in the New England area around the beginning of September and would love to come and meet him. Although I didn't hear back from him, I didn't let that stop me. I made a call the following week and was shocked to hear his voice on the other end of the line.

"Trinity? I'm sorry I hadn't gotten back to you," he told me and groaned as if he was sitting back in his chair. "I really like your ideas and look forward to meeting you. How about June 2? I'll share. You'll share. Let's see if this might just work out."

"Great!" I exclaimed and nodded as I spoke to my potential new boss. "Um, yeah. Yes! I look forward to meeting you as well. I'll see you then."

"Travel safely, Trinity," he encouraged. "Call me when you get into town." He then hung up.

On Saturday, May 27, after a very quickly arranged vacation was set up (because my current boss was understanding and awesome), I headed for New York. On June 2, I met with Tom and his wife, Michelle, and realized I'd found my next workplace. Tom solidified this by taking my hand into his at the restaurant where we'd agreed to meet and asking me to please consider BMB as my future. Before I went to bed, I sent him a text thanking him and Michelle for dinner and agreeing that his company did seem to be a great fit.

"I accept your offer and can start on July 3rd."

"Great! Keep me posted. I'll have a place for you to stay until you find your permanent housing. NO MORE HOTELS. See you soon. I'm really glad you reached out, Trinity. I see a great future ahead for both of us."

"Me too, Tom. Thank you, so much, and good night."

The following month was a whirlwind. I'd stayed in the northeastern part of the country to visit my cousins and a dear friend from back home before heading back to my house to begin packing. I gave my notice, called a realtor, and watched as things simply fell into place which only made my decision more secure and definite.

On June 12, I put my house on the market. I accepted an offer by June 16 and was set to close by June 25. I was packed and had solid moving arrangements by June 19. I said goodbye to my old life and headed for New York to find my new one. On June 28, I was knocking on the door of an amazing woman who is affectionately called Gram by most, and by July 1, I was officially (documentation-wise, anyway) a New Yorker.

This was, by far, a super-hot summer. I mean that in a couple ways. The temps were often nearly 100 degrees, at least from the day I'd arrived until mid-August. Sure, that alone made things nice and steamy. But there was another factor that led to my assessment. Tommy.

One day, I stood up and called out to Gram that I'd get the door when someone had rung the bell. "Thank you, sweetheart," she answered as she usually did when I offered to do something, anything, around the house. She was the sweetest woman. We'd gotten on better than I could have imagined. And, it turned out, she was my new boss's mom.

What was I saying? Oh, right... steamy. Well, yes, when I opened the door, the hot wind nearly blew me over. But nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for what I was looking at when I set my eyes on the man who'd rung Gram's doorbell.

When I say that I was mesmerized... I mean all the things that probably went through your mind: couldn't take my eyes off of him, flutters in my stomach, mouth couldn't formulate words because desires I hadn't had in months suddenly made themselves known throughout mind (and maybe other parts of my body), wondering if that was from the move, lack of any sex in too long, or just that he was a good-looking guy from another state.

"Honey, who's at the door?" Gram asked probably around the time that she'd noticed there hadn't been any talking. "Oh! Tommy! Hello, dear! Come in, come in! It's stifling out there!" Tommy found his footing and made his way into the house. Oh, did I mention that he didn't seem to say anything or move either? "Well, what a nice surprise!" Gram continued and placed her hand gently on my back which finally brought me out of my stupor.

"Hi, uh, hi!" I greeted him warmly. Well, ok, that was a bit of a pun. In truth, it was rather stupid-sounding. There... I said it. "I'm Trin. Trinity Powers."

"Oh! Dad mentioned our new hire was coming soon. I didn't realize he had you staying with Gram. Oh! Oh, man, sorry!" he told me excitedly and held out his hand to shake mine. "I'm Tommy. Tommy Parker."

"Tommy," I repeated and shook his hand. I hoped Gram hadn't noticed, but I didn't want to let go, so I lingered a little while before taking my hand back. (It wasn't like he was letting it go either.)

"Well, Tommy, what brings you around?" Gram asked as she took Tommy's arm.

"I came to ask if you wanted anything from the store," he explained as he led Gram into her living room.

"Tommy, don't lie to this old broad," Gram responded and shook her head at him. "We text regularly. You could have shot me a message. What really brings you here?"

"OK, alright!" Tommy conceded and shook his head before smiling over at me and pointing at the seat next to where he was set up to sit on the couch. I nodded and took my spot. "I came to check out Dad's new hire." Tommy turned to face me and gave me an apologetic smile. "I guess we'll be partners. He'll explain more at work, and I'll be showing you the ropes once you get settled."

"Well," I began hesitantly, "do I pass the test?"

"Oh, I mean, gosh, that did sound bad, didn't it?" Tommy answered and shook his head. "Sorry. I, just, um..."

"It's OK," I told him put my hand on his knee. "I would be wondering too if I knew about how it all works. I didn't know there were partners or what kind of office I'll have or any of it. I guess I'm going on faith here. I feel a little better knowing that I've met you though." With a smile, I nodded and then looked down when I couldn't hold his gaze any longer. What was happening?

"Trin, sweetheart?" Gram spoke up to break the silence. "When was it that you needed to head out for your appointment?"

I looked at my phone and gasped. "Oh, Gram! Thank you! I don't know what happened to me. I think I was heading into my room to get my things when the doorbell rang. I need to leave shortly." I turned to Tommy as I stood up. Being the gentleman he was (or seemed to be), he stood up as well. "I'm so sorry to cut and run like this."

"Oh, no, I'm sorry," Tommy countered. "I hope I didn't throw things off too badly for you with my unannounced visit and all. Sorry about that."

"Oh, it's fine, really," I told him, and for whatever reason, I reached out and squeezed his hand. "It was really nice to meet you. I hope I'll see you again soon."

"Monday at work, I suspect, and then at the party the next day," Tommy answered. "Have you been told about the party?"

I nodded. "Yeah, he invited me. I wasn't sure if I was going to be comfortable enough to go, but..."

"Oh, you have to come," Tommy interrupted. "We're partners. We're totally gonna dominate the games this year."

"Well, alright," I answered shyly and let go of his hand when I realized I was still holding it. "We'll talk strategy on Monday. Sound good?"