by Box Set
Her father was doing the best he could despite Mama’s illness. Nothing ever worked out in his favor. Besides, Trinity could avoid him by working long hours and studying at school as much as possible, only returning home to provide her father a break. Although lately, his care-taking skills had taken a backseat to his drinking. Maybe he needed some rest? Mama’s few nights in the hospital could provide that.
A nurse stopped by the room to check on everything. He was a very tall, thin man dressed in dark blue scrubs. He adjusted some of the lines and straightened her pillows. “She looks better. I think she’ll be right as rain in a few days.”
Her mother woke from the movement around her. In the florescent light and dressed in the plain blue hospital gown, she appeared more grandmother than mother.
“Good morning, Ms. Estrada. I’m Dan, your nurse for today. How are you feeling?”
“Me siento bien, gracias.” She slipped into Spanish, her native language whenever she was groggy. “Puedo ir a casa ahora?”
“She wants to go home.” Trinity had translated for her mother most of her childhood. It was as natural as breathing.
The nurse clasped her mother’s hand with an empathetic grip that eased the tension straining her mother’s shoulders and neck. “The doctor will be here in about an hour. Let’s talk to him at that time.”
Her mother shook her head. “No. I want to go home.” Her English finally woke up along with her fears.
After checking her vital signs and speaking to her for a few minutes, Dan left them alone. Her mother began rocking back and forth in the bed, a movement that soothed her stress. She then switched her attention to a news show on the television. Hopefully, she’d settle down.
“Mama, I have to go to work.”
“You’re working at the restaurant tonight?” Panic tinged the edges of her words. Her schedule rarely changed. Most nights, she worked at the diner from four o’clock until closing. When her study schedule allowed, however, she also took the lunch shift.
“Yes. Papa is coming to see you soon. Okay?”
“Are you working here tonight, too?
Still her aide and not her daughter. The doctors had told her it would only get worse. Trinity took the deep breath she always needed when denying her real relationship to her mother.
“I’ll be back. I promise.”
“I don’t want to be alone.” Her body rocked in a very subtle nervous movement. The tears came next and slowed Trinity’s departure.
The sadness remained in her mother’s eyes, but she gave Trinity a weak wave and then refocused on the television.
With her mother settled, Trinity washed up in the bathroom and then left for the diner. She arrived at Indigo two hours before the dinner rush.
“How’s your mother?” Francisco called from the kitchen through the pick-up window. Word traveled faster than light in town, bad news even faster.
“How did you know about my mother?”
“Stone and Alice came in for lunch and told us they’d been out to your house. Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Resting right now. She should be home in a day or two.”
“Great news. If you need any time off, just ask.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine. She has a great set of nurses and doctors caring for her.”
Francisco, always taking on the role of big brother to her, called out a few orders to Greg, the short order cook, and then strolled to the front of the diner and to her side. His military past was evident in his posture and stride. “How’s your dad?”
“He’s angry that she had to go to the hospital, but happy she’s doing well.”
“I’ve said it before, but if you need anything, say the word.” He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Time off, a loan, a shoulder to cry on.”
She smiled. He’d been offering her a hand for a long time. She never accepted. It wasn’t good to owe anyone anything. “Thanks, but all I need now is to get ready for my shift.”
As much as she respected Francisco, sometimes she felt as though he wanted to be a bit more than her big brother. She didn’t return the sentiment. She maintained her friendship with him, but tried to keep their relationship more professional than personal.
He gave her shoulder a squeeze then released her. “We’re capable of handling the rush, so if you need to bug out early, just say the word.”
“I will.”
He laughed. “No you won’t. In the past four years working here, you’ve never so much as taken a sick day.”
“What can I say, I like to keep busy.” And she needed the money.
Her first table for the night had four teenage boys all acting a little too rowdy. She’d seen them in here before. Tonight, however, they appeared to have a case of spring fever. Their voices were louder than normal, and their actions a bit more confident.
“Two more Cokes, senorita. Por favor.” A blond boy, wearing preppy clothes and a smug expression, waved his arm in the air as though he were summoning a taxi.
She ignored the dig and brought out the Cokes, cleared the table of an empty dish of French fries, and took the order of the table next to them.
“Joey, practice your Spanish,” the same kid said. “I heard they hire illegals around here and that they’ll do anything to remain in the country. Anything.”
Although her parents were both Cuban by birth, they’d arrived in the United States with green cards and eventually became citizens. Trinity had been born in the United States. The only thing illegal she’d ever done was occasionally jaywalking. She carried some coffee to another table, holding it tight to keep herself from flinging it on the idiots. When she went to drop off the boys’ check, one of them clasped her arm. Joey. He was larger than the others, wearing designer clothes and a watch that cost more than her salary for the year.
The violation burned her skin and reminded her of all the times her father had shoved her away from him or yanked her into a room because she’d been too slow. She wouldn’t let these brats pull her down.
“Let me go.” She wrestled herself out of his grip, but remained next to him. As Indigo’s designated second in command, Francisco wouldn’t challenge her eviction of an unruly customer, although she rarely had to use that power. “You grab me again, and I’ll teach you the meaning of stand your ground.”
“Feisty. I like that in my servers.”
“She was probably born here. My dad calls them anchor babies.” The blond kid shook his head, like he knew anything outside of his prep school and country club.
“Settle down, guys.” She lowered her voice and attempted to broker a truce.
“I can have you jobless and homeless in under a week.” The pure confidence on the smug kid’s face made her want to toss hot coffee right into it. Knowing these types of kids, though, he’d have a lawyer back here trying to take Francisco’s diner in compensation.
She pointed to the door. “I don’t want to have to kick you out of here.”
The boys glanced where she’d pointed, but their reaction was not what she’d expected. They all leaned back away from her. Their sneers softened, and one of them faked a smile. She turned to see what had changed them from obnoxious assholes to freaked out teenagers.
“Anything the matter, boys?” Griffin stood next to her, in his uniform, gun prominently on display.
She swallowed back the frustration of the past few moments and tried not to let her smile leak out of her waitress-with-an-attitude facade.
The blond kid who had started the situation found some courage after his initial retreat. “We were just making sure everyone here had their green card, Officer. She’s all clear.”
Their attempt at humor didn’t alter Griffin’s stern expression.
“I like how everyone looks out for each other. In fact, I’m going to look out for your interests right now.” He pointed out the window. “If I remember correctly, you boys were driving earlier today near Simon’s Park. That is your car, right?”
“It�
��s mine.” A kid with a blue golf shirt and three hundred dollar sneakers nodded toward a red BMW. Jenna Hale, one of the newer officers on the police force stood next to it, writing a ticket.
“The inspection is a few days late. Following the law is pretty important. In fact, I take it so seriously, Officer Hale is outside making sure you’ll be in compliance real soon.”
“Damn.” The car owner jumped up and ran out the door.
“I can take up your bill when you’re ready,” Trinity said to the remaining boys.
Blondie threw down a few bills, and they departed.
“There goes my tip, but the look in their eyes when you told them about the ticket…” Her relief at being done with them brought out her biggest smile. “Priceless. Thanks.”
Griffin didn’t spare a second glance toward the kids. Instead, he kept his eyes focused exactly on her, as though he was trying to read her mind. “No problem. Are you headed back to the hospital after your shift?”
She nodded, although she’d be out of work at eleven thirty, long past visiting hours.
“Let me take you. Are you headed home afterwards?”
How to answer that? I don’t want to be alone with my father. “Maybe.”
“Look, I have an extra bedroom. You can crash there until your mother goes home.”
Stay with Griffin? Ummm, no.
“Thanks, but I don’t want to cause any trouble.”
“No trouble. I’ll pick you up after my shift.” He turned and walked out the door before she could disagree.
***
Griffin never wanted to take advantage of another person who was in obvious need, but Trinity needed a place to stay, and although he could have asked one of the many females at the station to help her out, he liked the idea of her staying with him. Okay, he loved the idea.
The rest of his shift he remained in the police station filling out paperwork and thinking about the beautiful woman with the dark colored hair and the smile that had faltered a bit lately. He also wanted to understand her relationship with her father.
He’d never had the choice to remain with his family. If he could do it all over again, would he have chosen to watch his mother abused by their father without stepping in to stop it? Probably not.
As soon as his shift finished and all the returning officers had signed out for the night, he changed out of his uniform and drove his pickup to the diner. The lit window illuminated Trinity hustling to close the diner, wiping down the counters, and talking to Francisco. For the first two years he’d been eating at the diner, he’d thought the two of them would eventually get together, but to his relief, Trinity wasn’t interested in Francisco. That was clear in her mannerisms and in the easy way she handled the otherwise ornery Army veteran.
The door was locked, so he banged on the window to tell her he was there. She smiled when she saw him, but he braced himself for her refusal to go with him.
“Hi. I was just heading out to the hospital.” She pointed to the bus stop.
“Are you sure you can get in to see her?”
“They’ll let me in. I’m pretty pitiful when I need to be.” She waved to Francisco, grabbed her backpack, and walked out the door.
“At least let me drive you there.” He hustled behind her. She could be fast when her determination and stubbornness took control.
“I’ve grown up riding these buses. I know every driver.” She kept walking, but his legs were longer than hers, and he managed to remain comfortably next to her, despite her best efforts to be independent.
She slowed up and turned to him. The dark shadows from an evening spent sitting at her mother’s bedside seemed more prominent under the streetlight. “You aren’t leaving my side, are you?”
He shook his head. “My truck can go directly to the hospital. The bus will have you all over town before you get there.”
That beautiful smile that had drawn him in from the first time he’d met her appeared and added more color and a touch of resignation to her face. “Fine, but I control the radio.”
He laughed, glad he wouldn’t have to beg. “Deal.”
When they arrived at about twelve thirty, he used his contacts with some of the ER employees to get them through security. Mrs. Estrada was fast asleep and looking comfortable. She woke for a little bit, groggy and asking for some water. Trinity poured her a glass and waited until she drifted off again before letting the smile fade into the tight-lipped worry of a daughter for her mother.
The inability of her mother to see her as anything more than a worker had to be ripping her heart out, and Griffin had no words to help ease the pain. She’d missed speaking to the doctor and had to rely on messages from the nursing team, but they all seemed competent and willing to explain why Mrs. Estrada should remain hospitalized a few more days.
Griffin was selfishly happy about that. Trinity could spend more time with him and perhaps begin to see him as more than just a customer with a caffeine addiction.
She leaned back in the recliner and shut her eyes, but her position seemed far from comfortable. Her mother didn’t need her right now. She was sleeping, tucked under blankets and breathing easy.
He tapped Trinity on the shoulder. “Come on. I promise a comfortable bed and hot coffee in the morning.”
“You don’t have to.” She hesitated enough to reveal her indecision. She had to be exhausted, but another night on this chair and without a shower would not help in her classes tomorrow.
“I’d be a pretty lousy friend if I didn’t insist.”
“You’re a wonderful friend.”
“Thanks.” He clasped her arm and helped her stand as though she were the patient.
She kissed her mother good night and followed him out of the quiet hospital wing to his truck.
When he pulled into the driveway, their easy conversation disappeared. An uncomfortable silence ensued. Was she nervous? He was, although he’d made a promise to himself to let Trinity have space.
“Nice house.”
“Thanks. I bought it about three years ago. It’s a bit of a fixer-upper, but it’s mine. It has the bones to become something really beautiful someday.”
“It already is beautiful.”
She had to be lying. He’d purchased the converted barn from a couple who had finally thrown in the towel on the project. Griffin, being a stubborn soul, decided he could conquer the pile of old wooden planks. So far, he’d combatted termites, wood rot, and a weak foundation. Now that the structure of the building could pass a housing inspection, he’d decided to renovate one room per year. This year? The back porch. A place in need of some new screening and a few coats of paint. White on the walls and light blue on the ceiling. At present, the room was more of a dirty beige. The outside of the barn was a faded and peeling red. That part of the project would be tackled in the summer.
“I have three bedrooms, but only two are functional. The other is more of a storage space at present.”
They climbed the stairs past his bedroom to a small, pale green room with a few plants and a double bed.
“My aunt and uncle stay here occasionally when they visit the area.”
“It’s perfect.” She placed her backpack on the chair in the corner and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll call my father in the morning about Mama.”
Awkward silence ensued.
“If you want to take a shower or have a snack or whatever, help yourself.”
“A shower sounds good.”
If he wasn’t a gentleman, he’d ask if she needed help washing her back, but manners prevailed, and he left her alone with clean towels while he went downstairs to grab a beer.
A half hour later, she descended into the kitchen wearing soft blue jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. His sweatshirt.
“Nice outfit.” He couldn’t help staring. She wore his wardrobe better than he did.
“Do you mind? I only have the shirt I wore out of the house last night and my uniform, which always smells like French fry grease
by the end of my shift.”
“I don’t mind at all. In fact, I encourage you to wear my clothes.”
She laughed, her energy partially refilled after the shower.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked.
“Tea, if you have it.”
“Absolutely. My aunt is sort of a connoisseur of tea, so I stock at least three types at all times. You’ll have to pick out the type you like, because I’m more of a coffee person.” He headed to the stove and turned on the kettle.
Three types of tea? He was so whipped. He wanted to impress her, instead, he probably sounded like a complete idiot.
“Can I help you?” She came up behind him, so close he could shift his arm behind him and catch her.
“The mugs are next to the sink.”
She walked away, and his body relaxed a bit. When she returned to his side with the mug, she stepped closer. Close enough that he could smell the scent of his own shampoo in her damp hair. Pure torture
Chapter 3
Prior to the hot shower, Trinity had felt as though she had layer of dirt and grime covering her body, reminding her of the stress of the past two days. The shower soothed her sore muscles and woke her from the nightmare of her mother’s distress. She felt more relaxed than she had in weeks. Irish Spring, some green shampoo, and the fresh scent of clean towels had awakened her senses and eased her nerves. It was now past one o’clock, but they both seemed wide-awake. Perhaps a by-product of their job schedules.
When she located Griffin in the kitchen, he had the unusual smell of beer on his breath. The diner was a non-alcoholic establishment, and he was usually in uniform. Now, in his jeans and with his short hair, tall, lean body, and relaxed stance, a different side of Sergeant Alexander emerged. Still her best friend, only different. After all the struggles with her father, however, the smell of alcohol wasn’t exactly a turn-on.
She approached this new side of him with caution and a bright blue mug. “So what are those three choices?’
“I think Tetley, some herbal orange stuff, and Earl Grey.”
“Earl Grey then, please.”