by Toni Shiloh
“’Course she does. Ain’t nobody who don’t love them girls.” Rock tilted his head. “Y’all gonna pray about it?”
“Yes, that’s what I suggested.”
“Smart.”
Omar’s shoulders sank with relief. “How will we know it’s God’s will and not ours?”
“Match it with His truth.” Rock rubbed his black mustache. It didn’t quite match the graying beard attached to it. “My father used to tell us to pray and read the Word. Then we’d be sure to hear His still, small voice. ’Course, I didn’t often listen.”
“I can’t picture that.” Rock had always been so steady in Omar’s life, and he prayed his father-in-law would be around for many years so the girls could experience his wisdom as well.
“Oh boy, I was a mess. My mama claimed I turned her head gray.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Eventually I straightened out. ’Bout the time I started reading and praying just like my father said.”
“So, you’re saying I have some homework tonight?”
“Sure do.”
“Do you think the idea’s a little backward?”
“No different than seeking out a mail-order bride like they did way back when.”
“But this is the twenty-first century.” Not that he had a problem with it, but if he could come up with counterarguments for Trinity, then all the better.
“Mmm-hmm. Yet people use those dating sites and apps to find a person. I don’t think we’re so removed.”
Counterpoint one. He nodded in concession. “You think it’ll change our friendship?”
“It’s bound to, but if that’s for good or bad remains to be seen.” Rock paused. “How long y’all been friends anyway?”
“My folks moved us out here when I was seven. Trinity was my first friend.”
“Well, moving right next door sure helped things.”
Omar smiled. “I was more interested in her tire swing than anything.” It still hung in her folks’ front yard, and Trinity’s parents had given the girls a standing invitation to use it.
“Faith and Joy love that old swing.”
“Yeah, they do.” Omar steepled his fingers, hesitating to ask the question he really wanted to know. He cleared his throat. “Rock?”
“Yes?”
“Would it hurt you? To see me married to someone else?” He watched his father-in-law, hoping Rock would be honest with his answer and expression.
His eyes drooped a little. “I admit, it’ll be a little uncomfortable. I expected to see you and Christine married for many years to come. But I can’t begrudge you another chance at happiness. Marrying a friend...some say there’s nothing better.”
“I appreciate your honesty.”
“Oh, you’ll always get that from me, Omar.” Rock stood. “I hope I’ll still be welcome if you do get hitched.”
“You’re always welcome. You’re like my second father. And you’ll always be the girls’ grandfather.”
Rock nodded, eyes watering a bit. “I’m gonna mosey on out of here. Just wanted to say hi and hear another person’s voice.”
“You want to stay for dinner?” Omar glanced at his watch. “Or come back for it?”
“Might do that. But if you don’t see me by five thirty, go ’head and start without me.”
“All right.” He followed Rock to the door and closed it quietly behind him.
Omar exhaled and looked up toward the ceiling. For all intents and purposes, Rock had given him a seal of approval. No way would he want any marriage to make Rock feel unwelcome. He was an important part of Omar’s life, and Christine being gone didn’t mean their status as family had been severed too.
Oh, Christine, what would you think of this?
She’d often laughed at his ideas, no matter how ludicrous they seemed. Granted, she had often egged him on to see how absurd they could become. But this was different. It was merging the lives of two people who had no desire to marry.
Jason had crushed Trinity. One day they’d been happy and in love and the next, he’d left her to pick up the pieces of her shattered heart. She’d been inconsolable.
How could Omar promise to never hurt her like that?
He straightened. Easy. She was his best friend and would be forever. That afforded an assurance that most people didn’t have. He’d love her from that friendship and treat her with the respect she deserved as his wife and kids’ stepmom.
Chapter Two
Trinity placed the traditional white dinner plate on her folks’ round dining table. Her mother loved the mealtime ritual—an elegantly decorated table surrounded by her loved ones. It didn’t matter if it was just the three of them or a large dinner party, her mother would pull out all the stops.
Trinity placed the cream-colored cloth napkins by each plate and finally situated the silverware on top. A vase with tulips had already been centered before Trinity had arrived. Pleased with her efforts, she walked into the kitchen.
“All done.” She smiled at her mother.
“Thank you, sweetie. How’s your blood sugar?”
Trinity resisted the urge to roll her eyes. You’d think her mother would realize that at the age of thirty-two Trinity was more than capable of monitoring her own health. “Mama, you know the glucometer app will sound an alert if there’s a concern. The entire neighborhood will come running.” She tried to keep the exasperation out of her voice.
Her continuous glucometer fed data to an app on her cell phone and max volume was the only option allowed. She didn’t know why. It wasn’t like the fire department needed to mistake an alert on a drop in her blood sugar for a call for help.
Trinity had removed her mother as one of her app followers in an effort to assert her independence. Sometimes Trinity considered adding her back, but she was an adult and didn’t want her mother monitoring her levels any longer.
“Right.” Her mother bit her lip. “And your shot of insulin was prepared specifically for our meal?”
“Yes, Mama.”
Her mother nodded, lips pressed tight as if to keep her other concerns at bay. She just needed to be distracted.
“Should I get Dad?”
“Yes, please.”
The urge to yell toward the living room welled within Trinity, but she suppressed the feeling. As much as she liked teasing her mama and bending the rules—like no yelling—she just wasn’t in the mood. Omar’s request weighed heavily upon her heart. It was all she could think about since leaving his house earlier. Her mind kept bringing up an image of him flanked by Joy and Faith, swaying on the porch swing.
When her mother had called and invited her over for dinner, an automatic yes had flown from her lips. Trinity thought for sure she’d welcome her parents’ advice, but now her hands shook as she gathered the courage to break the news. She’d been in the house for thirty minutes and hadn’t used a single opportunity to talk about Omar’s plan. Knowing Omar was right next door had only increased her nerves.
She stepped into the living room. “Dad, dinner’s ready.”
He stood, eyes glued to the TV, watching the baseball game.
“Dad?”
“I’ll be in as soon as a commercial comes on.” His husky voice practically shooed her away.
She suppressed a chortle. “Okay.” She chuckled softly as she entered the dining room.
“He’s waiting for a commercial, isn’t he?” Her mom placed a hand on her hip.
“Sure is.”
They laughed as they sat down at the oak table, the same one she’d eaten dinners at as a kid. Nothing in their home ever changed unless broken beyond repair. After a minute, her father shuffled in, pushing the saloon-style doors on their hinges.
He dropped into his chair. “The Rangers are killing me. They let the Astros load the bases.” He shook his head in disgust.
“It�
��s the third inning, Dad. Game’s not over yet.”
“It will be if they continue playing that way. But I’ll hush so we can say grace.” He placed his arms out, palms up.
Trinity reached for his hand and then her mother’s. Her father said grace, and after a chorus of amens, they began eating. The familiarity of meat loaf, mashed potatoes and cabbage calmed her. After a few bites, the silence begged to be broken.
“I saw Omar today.”
“How’s he doing?” Her mom studied Trinity, her brow creased with sympathy.
“I think he’s still hurting. A little lost maybe?” More like desperate. How bad off did one have to be to suggest a marriage of convenience? With Trinity, no less.
“Grief will do that to you.”
Trinity bit her lip. It was true, she could see how much his mother-in-law’s death hurt him and the girls. Not to mention the grief that still lingered from Christine’s passing. But did that mean she had to go along with this silly idea? You wouldn’t have to worry about money or insurance anymore.
“I saw Rock leaving earlier. Was he there too?” Her dad shoved in a forkful.
Oh no! How would he feel if they married? Trinity refocused on her dad. “No. He probably came over after I left.”
“I wonder who will watch those precious girls now.” Her mother dabbed at her mouth in all her Texas refinement.
A shudder spread chill bumps along Trinity’s arms. “Well...” She twirled her fork back and forth. “Omar suggested I could help.” Not exactly how he’d phrased it.
“What do you mean?” Her dad paused, fork in midair.
“He, uh...” Why was her heart pounding so fast? Could it beat its way out of her chest? “He asked me to marry him.”
Forks clattered.
Tension filled the room.
Trinity slowly turned to look at her mom, whose mouth had dropped open. She then looked to her dad. If he squinted his eyes any tighter—well, he might as well close them.
She carefully placed her fork alongside her plate, then clenched the fabric of her skirt. “Y’all, please say something. Mama? Dad?” Somebody!
“That sounds a bit extreme, don’t you think? Not the first idea that comes to mind for solving childcare woes.” Her mother clutched her navy blue costume necklace.
If they had been pearls, Trinity would have lost all composure. “I figured.”
“He has heard of a babysitter, right?” Her dad quirked a silver-colored eyebrow. She’d always thought it looked distinguished against his brown skin.
Trinity didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “He has, but it’s kind of hard to find someone who can accommodate the fire department’s twenty-four-hour shifts.”
“So, he wants you to just toss aside your whole life to accommodate his schedule?” Her dad’s voice lowered dangerously.
She hated when he talked like that. Knowing his anger was directed at Omar didn’t make Trinity feel any less like a kid awaiting disciplinary actions. “It actually started because of my job.”
Her dad leaned back in his seat, arms crossed and jaw clenched.
“Since I need health insurance—”
“Oh, honestly.” Her mom waved a hand in the air. “Trinity, you can’t marry that man to have some insurance and raise his girls as some kind of quid pro quo.”
“But where am I going to find another job, Mama? And one with good insurance?” She shook her head. How had she ended up defending Omar’s reasons? Hadn’t she thought the idea was too absurd for words? “Anyway—” she exhaled “—I don’t think he’s thinking too clearly. I mean, his mother-in-law just passed away not two weeks ago. He’s simply a little panicked.” But he spoke so clearly.
No panic. No desperation.
A friend helping a friend. She bit back a groan.
“I don’t care.” Her father slapped his napkin down on the table.
“Charles,” her mom snapped. “The boy’s been walking in a cloud of grief since his wife died. Now Nancy. Have a little sympathy.”
Wait. Now her mother was jumping onto the sympathy train? Trinity placed a hand on her head, hoping the room would right itself and make sense. There was too much flip-flopping around.
“She’s my baby girl. I have to look out for her best interest,” her father protested.
“Yes, but she can make her own decisions.”
Trinity snorted. Yet her mother had just been eyeing her insulin pod and treating her like it was the first day of her Type 1 diabetes diagnosis. She gripped the table. “You know what? I completely agree. I’m more than capable of making my own decisions. Only this time, I really need your opinions and advice. This isn’t me deciding on the color of a car. This is major.” Her breath came in spurts as her panic levels rose like a spike in her glucose readings.
Now wasn’t the time for them to decide they had no opinion. Her dad’s bluster wasn’t exactly helping the mounting anxiety turning her hands clammy.
Her father reached for her hand, understanding softening the glare in his eyes. “Baby girl, you know you can tell him no, right?”
“Of course.” But she’d also promised Omar she’d pray about it. Talking to her parents was a step in the wise counsel direction.
“What are you thinking?” her mother asked.
“I’m not quite sure. It seems a little ridiculous...” Her voice trailed off.
“But you’re liking the insurance idea, huh?” Her dad’s expression was contemplative.
“I need it, Dad. What if I run out of insulin before I get more insurance? How will I pay for it?” Her copay with insurance made her queasy, and she could only imagine the amount without it.
“Oh, sweetie.” Her mother leaned toward Trinity and cupped her cheek. “God always provides.”
“And what if Omar’s His provision?”
Her mother gaped and her father jerked. Even Trinity was surprised by the words out of her mouth.
“You may have a point, baby girl.” Her father stroked his chin.
“Charles, I can’t believe you’d say something like that. I thought you were against this.” Her mom blinked owlishly.
“I was until I started thinking about it. Think, Rhonda, they’ll both be helping each other out.”
“But what about love?” her mother cried.
Trinity watched in amusement. “You know I have no desire to put myself in that position again, right?”
“Oh, Trinity, Jason was a jerk.” Her mother covered her mouth. “Forgive me, Lord.”
“Hey, it’s true.” Her father smiled.
Trinity chuckled. “Y’all, seriously. Neither one of us wants to marry, but this way we can help one another. And share each other’s burdens. Right?” The more she talked about it, the less outrageous the idea seemed.
“I don’t like this.” Her mother stabbed her meat loaf, shaking her head. “You could fall in love with someone, have a family. But if you marry Omar, that’s for life, young lady.”
She nodded. “I know.” Her beliefs wouldn’t let her take marriage lightly.
“And you know nothing about toddlers. It’s like throwing a person who can’t swim in the deep end of a pool,” her mother continued.
“But she’ll learn to swim,” her father countered.
“Humph. Or sink.” Her mother shook her head.
A light sparkled in her dad’s eyes. “Wait a minute, you’d be a stay-at-home mom for the next couple of years?” At her nod, her dad threw his head back and laughed.
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” She couldn’t help the hurt in her voice. Whatever her father was thinking probably wasn’t a good thing.
“Baby girl, you like control. Those little girls are going to turn your world upside down and ruin your love of order.”
“I’m sure I can get them on a schedule.”
A different kind of nervousness weighed on her shoulders. All this time she’d been focused on her heart and avoiding the institution that had nearly destroyed her before, but what about Faith and Joy? Would this scar them? Would she be a good mom?
“What do I do?” she whispered.
“Pray,” her parents said in unison.
Her mom looked at her dad knowingly. “It’s the only thing you can do right now, sweetie.”
“I’m surprised Omar didn’t do so or even suggest it.” Her father eyed her.
“He did.”
“Hmm.” A glimmer of respect shone in her father’s eyes. “We’ll pray for y’all too.”
“Thank you, Dad.”
“Of course, baby girl.”
The rest of their meal centered on lighter conversation, but Trinity couldn’t entirely focus. She couldn’t help but feel like her life would drastically change with an answer to Omar. Whether it was yes or no, their relationship would be altered forever. Could it withstand a yes? Or worse, a no?
Hot tears pricked her eyes, waiting to be shed, but she couldn’t let her parents see how unnerved she truly was. Agreeing to marry another person after what had happened before...
Trinity gave a mental shake of the head. Marriage to Omar wasn’t something she wanted to entertain, but the idea held so many pros. Plus, there was no risk of her heart being engaged. In a way, it was like a safety net that would protect her from the pain of love.
The irony of it all.
* * *
Omar gave a sigh of thanks. Sunday.
Going to church always centered him. For a couple of hours, his troubles would fade away as he worshipped and remembered Who had ultimate control.
Yet today was bound to be awkward. He hadn’t spoken to Trinity since he popped the question, mostly because he wanted to give her time to process. Except now he had to break that silence. They’d been going to church together since they were kids. Well, except for the few years he’d been married to Christine. Trinity had sat near them at church but never with them—respecting their family time, as she’d claimed. When Christine passed away, Trinity had taken to sitting with him once more in a demonstration of comfort and friendship.
