Chapter Twenty: Some Solid Truth

A couple of days go by and pretty soon than what they wanted, the FIB found the two in Sandy Shores. Well, more like Steve Haines and some accountant. Trevor and Michael had to meet them at Trevor's cook site early in the morning. Not that they wanted to, but they had no choice but to. 

Nevertheless, the meeting didn't last very long. Just a few minutes before there was a casual departure of the FIB agent and the account manager from the old office building, leaving Michael and Trevor behind to chat. Michael lets out a sigh as he stands up. 

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Michael: Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. Alright, I'll give Lester a fucking call. He said he knew about something. 

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As Michael heads out of the room, Trevor follows behind. They both have to come up with the money to fund their next dirty mission for the FIB. And if there's anyone who can help them get that money, it's Lester.

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Trevor: And you tell him that we're driving towards Paleto Bay. 

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Michael and Trevor then walk out of the cook site and get into a red vehicle that Trevor "borrowed" from a neighbor yesterday. Michael takes his phone out to call Lester while he's driving and Trevor just sits quietly on the passenger side. 

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*Lester: What now?*

*Michael: We got a funding problem, so we need a job. Before the jewel store, you talked about a score, a bank in the sticks. I need you to meet us there. Paleto Bay, right?*

*Lester: That's the one. I'll get on a bus.*

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Michael hangs up and continues driving down the long dusty roads of Sandy Shores.

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Michael: Alright, Lester's meeting us there. Don't start.

Trevor: I won't No way. Good call. If you're taking down a bank for a few million. First thing you do is call the hospital, tell'em to get you a guy in a wheelchair. 

Michael: Woah! This hayseed bank, is it going to be carrying that kind of change?

Trevor: Local law enforcement extort money from all the weed farms, whorehouses, and meth kitchens in the area. They keep their cash in safe deposit boxes. Then there's all the normal small-town payroll stuff. We should do well. 

Michael: You know, I've been thinking about you, Trevor. Your lifestyle. 

Trevor: Oh have you? Really?

Michael: Yes I have. People always try to label you. You know, maniac, psycho- 

Trevor: Friend, industry leader. A Father.

Michael: In some ways you defy categorization. But then...

Trevor: What?

Michael: Think about it, where you live. 

Trevor: Sandy Shores, you precious ass. I'm sorry there ain't a place nearby for you to get your colonics. 

Michael: Right. But why are you out here?

Trevor: It's off the grid. We're away from it all. It's somewhere real and authentic. This is America! And real people ain't been priced out yet. 

Michael: Yeah, well what if it gets gentrified?

Trevor: Then I'll fucking move. 

Michael: Okay, what about the way you dress?

Trevor: What about it? I don't give a shit what I wear. 

Michael: No, no, no. If you don't give a hit, you wear clean clothes that fit. See, yours are all a little out there. A little wacky. 

Trevor: Whatever's in the shop, is what I get. Jesus, what is this?

Michael: It's not an absence of taste, T. It's the opposite of taste.

Trevor: You should be a stylist.

Michael: And then there's the tattoos, the hair, the weird music. The funny toys, the niche drugs, the everything. 

Trevor: What the fuck are we talking about?

Michael: I'm just saying since I've been cooped up with you in that shithole of a trailer. I would like to at least think you would change some of your ways. I mean, you know, for the good of your daughter.

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When Michael brought up Trevor's bad habits and you into the conversation, it seemed to have struck a bit of a nerve on Trevor. 

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Trevor: You, out of every guy I know, can't talk about bad habits. 

Michael: Of course, I have my own shitty habits, but at least I know how to cover them up. And I've been making progress. 

Trevor: Right, right. So progress includes your family leaving you, being overweight, having a drinking problem, and the tendency to push people away while betraying everyone that only did you good. Yeah, that's good progress. 

Michael: Easy there, T.

Trevor: And just to set the record straight, my daughter doesn't know about anything that I do. The drugs, guns- 

Michael: Being hunted down by a crazy Mexican mafia and God knows who else.

Trevor: And I strongly suggest that she doesn't know about anything that I do. Got it?

Michael: Oh yeah, I get ya. 

Trevor: Now what the fuck were you going with this conversation? Cause for your sake, I hope it's not what I think it is.

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Wanting to shift the topic and Trevor's attention to something else since he got the message, Michael brings up something random. 

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Michael: You are a hipster.

Trevor: What?

Michael: You're a hipster.

Trevor: I hate hipsters.

Michael: Classic hipster denial.

Trevor: I abhor hipsters. I eat them for fun.

Michael: Haha, hipsters love saying they hate hipsters.

Trevor: Well, I really fucking do. 

Michael: Self-hatred. Common hipster affliction.

Trevor: Only because I'm living out here away from the Bean Manchines, and the bankers?

Michael: You're gentrifying. Soon, the skinny jeans will show up. Then the skinny lattes, and then the bankers. And you'll be somewhere else starting the cycle all over again. Maybe you're not a classic garden variety hipster, but you're what the hipsters aspire to be. You, Trevor, are the proto-hipster! Haha!

Trevor: I don't know what you're talking about. I don't agree with what you're saying. You're talking bullshit. And you're trying to wind me up. But I'm very, very angry. And I want this conversation to stop right away. 

Michael: Hipster.

Trevor: Fuck you! Fuck you, Michael! Say it again!

Michael: I've made my point. I'm not a sadist. 

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After finally arriving at the bus stop, they patiently wait there until Lester arrives. 

Morning eventually turns to mid-afternoon. Considering that Lester can't drive, and has to take a bunch of bus rides to get to Sandy Shores. But when he finally arrives, the three men make their way towards the vehicle and take off to see their score.

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...Meanwhile...

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You're sitting on one of the benches by the beach, enjoying some tacos from a local food truck called "Locos Tacos". And while you're eating your tacos, you couldn't help but eavesdrop on a couple of conversations. 

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(Lady on the Phone Nearby): Tell me more about the coffee enema.

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As if this town couldn't get any weirder, and just when you think you've already seen and heard it all. You hear conversations like that and weird TV commercials that keep popping up regardless of which channel you switch to. 

You miss Melanie... you miss your mom, and you miss your grandma. As much as you feel betrayed by her, she's still your family. Maybe staying here for the entire summer isn't a good idea anymore. And with your dad being out of town, you can't exactly hang out with him unless you call him. Maybe you should...

Giving your mind a couple of minutes to think about this, you pick up your phone and call your grandmother. You haven't called her like at all since you left. Yeah, there are text messages from her, but you purposely don't reply to her until much later in the day. 

The phone rings for a few seconds... maybe this was a bad idea... but then she answers.

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*Grandma: Y/n? Y/n how are you doing? Is everything alright over there?*

*Y/n: Yeah, yeah I'm okay here. I wanted to call since I'm feeling a little homesick right now.*

*Grandma: Oh honey, I'm so sorry. I've been missing my little bumblebee and I want to say that I'm sorry for everything.*

*Y/n: It's okay grandma.*

*Grandma: No, it's not. I know I should have told you, and I don't expect you to forgive me anytime soon. I just hope you know why I did what I did at the time.*

*Y/n: I know. This was back when Trevor was a criminal and I was just a baby. You did what you had to do to protect me. But I wanna tell you that Trevor's not a criminal anymore, he even has his own business, and he's been a good dad so far.*

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As much as your grandma personally doesn't want to believe that, she has to understand that Trevor is going to be in the picture from now on. 

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*Grandma: As long as he's not hurting you, in any way, then I'll be okay with that.*

*Y/n: Thanks, grandma.

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...Later...

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After the plan to rob the bank is set, Trevor goes back home. There he sees that the trailer's been cleaned and Patricia is cleaning the dishes. The two have been talking for a bit since she's been here. And for the most part, he seems to be enjoying her company. 

This could be that she doesn't fear him at all, nor does she treat him like anything less. If anything, she listens to him. She doesn't interrupt him; she doesn't insult him in any way. 

Right now, Trevor is currently thinking about what Michael told him earlier this morning. About changing his behaviors for your sake. He has changed a bit to be a better example for you, but... he doesn't know exactly how to start. He doesn't want to give up on his business aspirations. But at the same time, he doesn't want you to get involved with any of his work. 

He just sighs and grabs a beer from the fridge before sitting down on the couch. Hearing him sigh attracts Patricia's attention. She dries her hands as she asks him a question.

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Patricia: What's wrong Trevor?

Trevor: It's nothing.

Patricia: It certainly does not sound like it's nothing. 

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Walking in front of him, she pulls up a chair and sits in front of him. It was the same chair she was tied up to, by the way.

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Patricia: You can tell me, I'm not here to judge.

Trevor: I just... I don't want to fuck things up with my daughter. I'm not feeling...

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He tries to remain as strong as he can be. Seeing this, Patricia hovers her hand over his before slowly and gently placing on it. 

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Patricia: It's okay, let it out Trevor.

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This, in a way, breaks him. Not too much for him to cry. As of right now, at least. In so, he tells her everything. About recently finding out he had a daughter, about Alice, what Michael told him this morning, everything. 

By the time he was done, he was no longer, but instead pacing back and forth in his trailer. Now he sounds pissed since there's still a part of him that's telling him that he's failing as a father. The voices in his mind is repeatedly telling him that he'll never be a good enough father since he never had one. 

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~How the hell do you know what it means to be someone's dad? Yours left you inside a mall.~

~You should have stayed in touch with Alice. Maybe then you would have figured out you had a kid.~

~You missed 15 years of your own kid's life. What the fuck could you do to even make it up?~

~You're putting her in danger, father of the fucking year you are.~

~You'll never be a good enough dad for your daughter.~

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The voices in his head are causing him to stop in the middle of the trailer. He's becoming more pissed than he is upset. But then, he feels a hand on his shoulder. In an instant, Patricia turns him around and hugs him as tight as she can. 

Her touch... this hug... is extremely unfamiliar to him, but all the anger dies down quickly. He unballs his fists as he begins to understand this tender and loving touch. Allowing his eyes to finally fill up with tears, his voice breaks when he says...

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Trevor: She knows I'm trying, right?

Patricia: She does know.

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Trevor returns to Patricia's strong embrace. With his arms wrapped around her back, he hangs his head low until his forehead touches her shoulder and cries. For the first time in his life, he allows himself to be vulnerable and show this weakness to someone. 

They remain in this embrace for minutes. And with Patricia not showing any sign of pulling herself away from him, she says...

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Patricia: I know you are doing a great job being a father. Look at me Trevor.

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Trevor pulls himself away to face her. Despite the tears that are still forming in the corners of his eyes, he looks her in the eyes and listens to what she has to say.

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Patricia: Do not be so hard on yourself Trevor. You have a chance to connect with your daughter and have a family. I can see your heart is still broken, by all the pain and suffering from your past. I understand you, Trevor. 

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He has found someone who not only manages to take away his anger but also makes him feel safe and secure for the first time in his life. Trevor wastes no time to embrace Patricia again. But this time, his head is over her shoulder and there's a sad smile on his face while a couple more tears run down his cheeks.