by Toni Shiloh
* * *
“Daddy, tell us a story,” Faith pleaded as he hovered over her bed, prepared to tuck her in.
“What kind of story?”
“Pwincess,” Joy shouted.
He chuckled and sat down on Faith’s bed. “I’m not sure if I can tell a princess story.”
“Try, Daddy.” Faith poked out her bottom lip.
It must be innate in daughters to wrap their fathers around their little fingers. Trinity smirked at him as if she could see the war between giving in to his girls’ pleading and escaping the art of storytelling. He’d always hated making up stories on the fly or anything to do with reading, while Trinity was the polar opposite.
“How about Trinity tell you a story?”
“No.” Faith pouted.
“You,” Joy encouraged.
Chuckling over his discomfort, Trinity sat on Joy’s bed. “Yeah, Omar, tell them a story.”
A week of tucking the girls in at night together, and he still had to do double takes when Trinity spoke or told the girls she loved them. He rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to think of a story. He must already know one, right?
It should be Christine telling them stories. He pushed the thought back and cleared his throat. “It was a dark and stormy night—”
“No, Daddy. Once upon a time,” Joy interrupted.
“Sorry, baby. Once upon a time, in a land far away, lived two young princesses in the kingdom of Young.”
“Young? That’s our name, Daddy.” Faith’s face scrunched up in irritation.
“Is it?” At her vigorous nod he continued. “Huh. Imagine that. Princess Faith and Princess Joy—”
“Us!” Joy’s dark eyes shined bright with pleasure.
“Are you sure?” He cracked a smile to let her know he was teasing.
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, did you know Princess Faith and Princess Joy had superpowers?”
“Princesses don’t have superpowers, Daddy,” Faith said with all the authority a three-year-old could muster.
“Why not?” Trinity asked.
“Superheroes have superpowers.”
“Nuh-uh. Elsa powers!” Joy countered.
Omar suppressed a chuckle at the look of consternation on Faith’s face. He continued his story. “Well, Princesses Faith and Joy were no ordinary princesses. You see, they could make others happy just by being kind. In fact, whenever someone was sad, they would visit the princesses to get better.”
“Weal-ly?” Joy whispered.
“Really. They had the brightest, prettiest smiles that healed hearts.”
“Okay. I like that,” Faith said begrudgingly.
“I’m glad you do.” He kissed her on her nose. “Okay, ladies. Time for bed.”
“You didn’t finish.” Faith frowned.
“It’s to be continued.”
“What’s that?” Joy asked.
“It means I’ll finish tomorrow.”
They groaned, and he bit back a laugh. “Love you.”
“Love you, Daddy,” they chorused.
“Love you, girls,” Trinity added.
“Love you, Miss Trin-ty,” the girls exclaimed.
He and Trinity headed for the door.
“Daddy, wait.” Faith shot up in the bed.
“What’s wrong?”
“You and Miss T say love you.”
His eyes widened. Before June seventh, he would have easily said he loved Trinity. But putting a ring on her finger and wearing a different wedding band on his, suddenly made the formerly innocuous words feel completely different.
“We’re not going to sleep yet,” he said in a strangled voice. “We’ll say it later.”
“Okay.” Appeased, Faith lay back down with a smile on her face.
He closed their bedroom door and leaned against it.
“Well, that was awkward.” Trinity eyed him.
“Right?” He smiled in relief, thankful Trinity understood.
She folded her arms across her chest. “Actually, I thought you made it awkward.”
“What? How?”
“Did you have to look so shocked by saying three little words?”
“We’re not like that!” Why was she mad at him? She didn’t even love him that way.
“I know that. You know that. The girls weren’t even insinuating something romantic.”
“It just caught me off guard since we’re married now.”
“That doesn’t change anything, Omar. You know that. We entered this for a mutually beneficial arrangement. Don’t treat me like I have cooties.”
“Trinity, come on. You mean to tell me it didn’t surprise you?” He motioned for her to walk down the stairs.
“Of course not. I’m not falling in love again. Ever. And you...”
“I’m still in love with Christine.”
“Exactly.” She sighed, grabbing the end of one of her braids. “Sorry. I just don’t want our friendship to change and it seems like it has anyway.”
“You’re right.” He ran a hand down his face. “I overreacted.”
“And I may have overreacted about your overreaction.” Trinity tipped a shoulder up in a shrug.
He snorted. “Say that three times fast.”
“No, thank you.” Her lips quirked upward and the tension slowly eked out of the hallway.
“Still friends?” he asked, holding out his hand for a truce.
“Yes.” She slid her hand in his. “Next time just say you love me. Remember, I already know it’s as a friend.”
But would Christine? She wasn’t here anymore but telling his current wife he loved her felt like a betrayal to his late one. As much as he didn’t want their friendship to change, for him, it already had.
Chapter Nine
Trinity looked around the living room, frowning. The functionality of the room was all wrong. Since she’d moved in, she’d constantly hit her knee on the end table while walking from the kitchen to the stairs, no matter that her brain knew it would be there. It became like a gravitational pull to her klutziness, setting her up for failure.
The clock showed about an hour before the girls would awaken from a nap. Since Omar was at work, she could rearrange the living room and surprise him. She nodded her head in decision and got to work.
Just as she shifted the end table into its new position, a voice called from the top of the stairs.
“Trin-ty.”
She padded over to the stairs and looked up to see Joy behind the safety gate. “Hey, sweetie.”
“I need bafroom.”
Trinity jogged up the stairs, unlocking the gate and holding her hand out for Joy. “Let’s go. Did you have a good nap?”
Joy nodded her head sleepily.
“Do you want a snack?”
“Uh-huh.”
After they washed their hands, Trinity exited the bathroom with the two-year-old following closely. “Let’s check on Faith first. Okay?”
“’Kay.”
A quick peek showed Faith still sound asleep. Her thumb rested against her mouth and her lips moved up and down. Maybe she was hungry too. Trinity stood there, torn. An online support group for stepparents had warned her about waking a sleeping toddler. Yet, if she let Faith continue to sleep, wouldn’t it mess with her sleep schedule later on? Or even throw off the snack schedule?
Schedules and structure were important for children. All the research pointed to that simple fact. But she also knew how demanding Faith could be when she’d gotten less sleep. What to do, what to do?
Making a decision, she walked into the girls’ room and gently shook Faith. “Wake up, sweetie.”
Faith whimpered in her sleep.
“Come on, Faith. Time for a snack.” She rubbed a finger down her cheek, hoping the
motion would be a soothing way to wake her up.
“No,” Faith drew out, rolling toward the wall and taking all the covers with her.
Trinity glanced behind her to make sure Joy still stood there and hadn’t wandered off to some mischief. Relief relaxed her shoulders and she turned back to Faith.
“Fa-ith,” Trinity sang out. “Do you want some ants on the log?” She resisted the urge to gag. She loved peanut butter, but it had no business touching celery or being dotted with raisins. Disgusting. “Faith, sweetie, wake up.”
The little one jolted awake to a seated position, took one look at Trinity and let out a wail that would rival any opera singers’.
Trinity winced as she rubbed Faith’s back. “It’s okay. Time for a snack. You’re okay.”
“No snack. Nap!” She flopped backward, her body bouncing from the impact.
“But you like peanut butter and celery.”
“Yuck!”
Ugh. Why, Lord? Why can’t she just graciously accept the food like Joy? Why must she fight me every step of the way?
How had Nancy survived the tantrums? Worse, what if Faith only acted this way around Trinity? She was no longer the cool friend who came around to take them to the park or to storytime at the library. Obviously, Faith’s joy at having a mommy had faded at the prospect of eating a snack Trinity suggested.
Her eyes widened with the epiphany. She had to beat the little one at her own game. “Faith, honey, what do you want for a snack?”
Faith stopped her thrashing, looking at Trinity warily. The little girl had a way of throwing looks at her that were GIF worthy.
“Peanut butter.”
“Okay. Would you like it on crackers?” The combination frustrated the little one. Faith would cry every time the chewed-up food stuck to the roof of her mouth. And no amount of juice box drinking would dislodge it. They’d already had more than one instance requiring Trinity to scrape the food from its spot. Who knew parents were constantly assaulted with their kids’ bodily fluids?
“No crackers.” Faith glared, her nose scrunched with irritation. “Cel-ry.”
Bingo. “Okay, let’s go.”
Faith ignored Trinity’s outstretched hand and climbed out of the toddler bed. Trinity headed for the door, thanking God for the avoidance of a mega tantrum. Joy slid her hand in Trinity’s while Faith opted for the railing as they descended the stairs.
They made it to the first-floor landing when her cell phone chimed.
“Hold on, girls. Let me see who this is.” She pointed to the couch. “Have a seat.”
“You moved them!” Faith placed her hands on her hips and stomped her feet.
Great. Apparently three-year-olds had opinions on furniture placement.
Trinity tapped on the message icon and clicked on Omar’s name.
I got skunked. Can you make me a solution?
Trinity read the list of ingredients included in the text.
Why not use tomato juice?
According to my research, it won’t rid you of the smell, just mask it.
She hoped he was right. No way she wanted Omar in the house if he smelled putrid. She shuddered, imagining an overpowering skunk smell.
What do you need me to do?
There should be a cleaning bucket under the sink. You can fill it with the solution and then set it out on the deck. I’m walking home and will be there soon.
Alright.
Trinity slid her phone into her back jean pocket and headed for the kitchen.
As she passed by the couch in its new place, Faith squinted her eyes. “Change it back.”
“Not right now, Faith.”
She fisted her hands. “Yes, now.”
Oh boy. One thing at a time. Focus on Omar first, then you can handle the threenager.
Once she set the container outside, Trinity corralled the girls into their high chairs. “Joy, do you want kiwi?”
“Yay.” Joy clapped her hands.
Well, at least one toddler was easy to please. She wondered if Joy would get a dose of attitude once she hit three. Oh, Lord, please no.
Shivers racked her frame. Don’t think about that right now. Just get through this moment.
Trinity placed a spread of kiwi and cubed cheese in front of Joy and a plate of ants on the log in front of Faith.
“Thank you.”
She stopped in surprise. “You’re welcome, Faith.”
The little one grinned, her head bopping back and forth. The clacking of beads from the end of her braids danced in the air. Nothing like food to soothe a hangry toddler.
Her phone chimed.
I’m here. Thanks for the solution.
You’re welcome. Do you want lunch?
Could I get a tuna sandwich?
Sure.
Thanks. I’m going to the front since it’s closer to the bathroom. Hopefully I’ll smell better. I’ll be down after a shower...or two.
She grinned. Tuna coming right up.
The front door opened and shut, and she heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. Trinity sat down to eat with the girls. Normally she’d wait until Omar walked in, but she’d already given herself a dose of insulin.
They all ate in silence until Omar’s voice rang through the house. “What in the world, Trinity?”
She swallowed a piece of apple too fast and winced as it slowly slid its way down. She grabbed a cup of water and chugged a gulp down to help the food’s passage. Taking a big breath, she made her way into the living room.
Omar stood there, a hand on his hip and a look of irritation covering his features.
“What’s wrong?” She sniffed the air. A faint trace of skunk smell lingered in the air, but nothing horribly repugnant.
“You changed the furniture?” He gestured around the living room, a disturbed expression furrowing his brow.
“Yes. I kept bumping into the table. Besides, this way is more functional. It gives us more space.”
His face shuttered. “But that’s not how Christine had it.”
Her heart dropped to gut level at Omar’s whispered words. How had she never noticed it’d been the same way for years? What should she do? Say?
“When we came back from our honeymoon, we arranged everything just so until Christine proclaimed it perfect.”
Oh man. An ache filled her throat. “Omar...” She cleared her throat, trying to get around the lump lodged there. How had she not noticed the depth of hurt he’d been going through? “I’m so sorry. I only wanted to help.”
“What else do you plan on changing?” Hurt darkened his eyes. “Are you going to start redecorating the whole house? Throw out pictures?”
“What? No.” Trinity shook her head, shocked. How could he think she’d erase Christine from his life? Omar had never spoken to her in such a tone. Hurt pierced her. “I really was just trying to help,” she whispered.
“Yeah, please don’t.”
“Omar...”
His breath stuttered, his shoulders sagging as he turned away.
Her body wavered, rocking on her heels as the urge to go to him rose. He was hurting. Grieving. Something she had no experience with. But she couldn’t stand here and let her friend think he was alone. Only she didn’t know exactly what to do.
* * *
A cool hand touched Omar’s forearm, and another found its way to the center of his back. He briefly noted the fresh flower smell that trailed in Trinity’s presence.
“I am so sorry.”
Her voice softened the ache permeating his heart. He wanted to give in to the utter shock of the changes in his home, but the note of concern in Trinity’s voice cautioned him. Pulled him from tumbling into the pit of grief. Barely.
“I’ll put everything back just the way it was if you want.” Trinity’s hand made small sooth
ing circles on his back.
The motion reminded him of how he put the girls to sleep when they were babies. Joy had always needed the comforting touch until about two months ago. Faith, well, she always said she was fine but never complained if he rubbed her back until she fell asleep.
Only he wasn’t a child.
“Why don’t you sit at the table with the girls. I’ll change it back while you spend some time with them.”
Vaguely, he realized Trinity had said the same thing once before. Only now the words sank in the recesses of his mind. “You’d do that?”
He stared at her, amazed. His friend. Best friend. She’d always been one to help if someone needed assistance. Why did her offer of changing the living room shock him?
“Yes. If that’s how you want the room to be, that’s how it’ll be.”
Omar opened his mouth to give an emphatic yes but froze. The passage of time constantly had him grasping for remains of Christine’s memory. The need to preserve all that she’d been to him weighed on him. Except he couldn’t let his grief leave no room for Trinity to have a home. This house was no longer just his. Hadn’t he promised to be a good husband to her?
“No.” He pushed out a breath. “I’ll get used to it.” He turned toward her, pausing at the sorrow etched onto her features. Had he been too harsh? “Aw, Trinity, I’m sorry.”
Her eyes widened. “Why are you apologizing?”
“The way I reacted. I shouldn’t have... I mean, I should have taken more care with my words.” Taking a chance, he lightly slid his palms against hers and gently held on to her hands. “This is your home too. If you want to change things to feel more comfortable, you can. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t.” He squeezed her hands, hoping she’d forgive him.
Her face flushed and she dipped her head.
Wait. Did she just blush? Before he could contemplate the thought any further, she looked up and stared straight into his eyes. His breath caught in his chest. How had he never noticed just how stunning Trinity truly was? The way her long lashes framed her dark brown eyes, letting her goodness shine from within...