by Toni Shiloh
Which is why he stood outside her apartment door waiting for her to answer his knock.
The door swung open and Trinity stood there, a slew of bobby pins hanging from her lips. “Just a moment,” she mumbled, as her hands twisted her braids into a contorted updo.
Amazing what she could do with some bobby pins. With deft fingers, she glided the final one in place while sliding her feet into heels. She grabbed a cardigan and her Bible, and a smile lit up her beautiful dark brown face. “Ready.”
He chuckled. “Running a little late this morning?”
“I hit snooze too many times.”
“I am not surprised.” He guided her down the stairs, thankful that their conversation was light. It seemed normal. Guess he hadn’t ruined everything with his suggestion.
Omar opened the passenger door, shutting it after Trinity settled into the seat. If they got married, Sunday mornings would pretty much be the same, except he wouldn’t have to drive to her apartment to pick her up anymore. She’d already be in his house.
The thought drew him up short. Was he ready to have another woman there? Another wife?
Your relationship with Trinity isn’t like that.
True. He didn’t need to get worked up over nothing.
When he opened the driver’s door, singing greeted him. He raised his eyebrows at Trinity as he slid in. She shrugged, a slight smile on her face, and continued to sing “Amazing Grace” with Faith and Joy. Faith held out the last note and then exhaled when finished.
“Bravo.” He patted his leg to clap while holding on to the wheel with his other hand and turning out of the parking lot. “What brought that on?”
“I wanted to sing for Miss T. She said we all sing,” Faith pronounced.
“Y’all did a beautiful job.”
Faith beamed and Joy giggled.
The singing continued all the way to church. As he parked a couple of rows away from the front entrance, the girls ended their last song. “Daddy, you sing next time.”
Trinity laughed. “You know he can’t sing, right?”
“Hey.” But his protest was in half jest. He was tone deaf, much to the chagrin of everyone who had the unfortunate opportunity of hearing him sing.
“God loves all singing.”
Trinity sighed, placing a hand over her heart. “You’re right, Faith. Thank you for that beautiful reminder.”
The three-year-old nodded primly as if she knew she’d been right all along. Omar stifled a chuckle.
He and Trinity got out of the vehicle, then opened the back doors, each helping one of the girls from their car seats. As they walked into the building, Omar was struck by the image they made. How had he not noticed the family picture they projected every Sunday? He held Faith’s hand while Trinity clasped Joy’s and the girls grabbed each other’s free hand.
All of them connected like a real family.
Omar knew they could do this—provide a home full of love, laughter and, apparently, singing. He wanted to plead with Trinity to say yes. The more he thought about the arrangement, the more right a yes felt. However, if he pushed the subject, would Trinity run the other way? He sighed. All he could do was ramp up his prayers and plead to the One who could make a difference.
After dropping the girls off in the toddler room, he and Trinity headed to the sanctuary.
Trinity placed a hand on his arm as they stood before the sanctuary. “Omar, could we talk later?”
His heart thudded. “Sure. Is it about...?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I had some questions before I give you an answer.”
“Okay.” What are they? he wanted to ask, but the worship music started.
Trinity always liked to hear all of the songs in their entirety, so he led her to their usual spot. He would have to be patient and wait until church was over. Hopefully Rock could watch the girls after church, so Omar could talk with Trinity.
He scanned the seats, searching for his father-in-law, but couldn’t find him in his usual spot. Lord God, I pray that he’s okay. Please comfort Rock as he grieves. I pray for the wisdom to know what to do or say.
Maybe he’d invite Rock over for dinner again. He hadn’t shown up the last few times, but that didn’t mean Omar had to stop asking. Also, Lord, could You help me and Trinity navigate the marriage talk? It was so odd to pray that, let alone think it.
A friend loveth at all times.
The scripture came to mind as he stood there with his best friend. Is that what he was doing? If so, then maybe marrying wasn’t such a bad idea.
Chapter Three
Returning to the scene of the crime.
Trinity couldn’t help the thought as she took a spot on Omar’s porch swing. When she’d asked to talk about the proposal, her mind had been on the logistics of it all. But now, the only thought in her mind was of them sitting here as a family.
Was she overthinking this? Maybe Omar had no intention of being a real family, but simply had a roommate lifestyle in mind. One where they kept their own bank accounts but split financial burdens.
But you don’t have a job anymore.
“Ugh,” she muttered. How did she keep forgetting that little factoid?
“Sorry about that.” Omar jogged up the front steps, pausing on the wooden landing. “Had to drop the girls off at Rock’s real quick.” He hooked a thumb toward his front door. “You need something to drink?”
“Bottled water, please.”
“Coming right up.” He dashed inside and moments later charged out with a Dr Pepper and bottled water.
After handing her the bottle, Omar sat down and popped the top on his soda. “So.”
“So,” she drawled.
“It doesn’t have to be awkward.”
“Ha. My best friend asked me to marry him with no love involved. Pretty sure that’s the definition of awkward.”
“Or the resourcefulness of a genius at work.”
She chuckled, pushing his arm slightly in amusement.
“Seriously though,” he looked at her, “what are your thoughts? Other than you considering my plan slightly wacky?” He waggled his eyebrows Groucho Marx–style.
“It’s not that bad. I have to admit, after talking to my parents—”
He groaned, dropping his head back before meeting her gaze once more. “Is that why your mom kept squinting her eyes at me during service?”
“Yes.”
“But I thought she loved me?” He put on a wounded look, the corner of his eyes turning downward to add punch to the look.
Omar was a hoot. “Not right now, she doesn’t.”
His lips joined in the game, the bottom one poking out.
“You look like Faith.”
“I sincerely hope not.” He laughed. “I wouldn’t wish my looks on those girls any day of the week.”
“Please, you know you’re handsome.”
“Really?” He arched an eyebrow. “I don’t think you ever paid me such a compliment, Trinity Davis.”
She rolled her eyes. “Just because I don’t fawn over you like some people, doesn’t mean I can’t admire the even symmetry of your face.”
“What?” he asked on a chuckle. “Is that what women look for? Eyes that line up?”
“Maybe subconsciously.” He really was handsome. She never made a big deal of it since all the single women in Bluebonnet did that for her. It didn’t help that his fit figure was usually covered by a Bluebonnet Fire Department uniform. The navy blue contrasted well with his brown skin.
“All right. Enough flattery—what do you want to know?”
She rolled her eyes. “How is this supposed to work? Are you expecting a wedding where we invite friends and family?”
Just the thought of wearing a wedding dress made her itch. She tightened her grip around the water so she wouldn�
�t be tempted to scratch at the nonexistent rash.
“Honestly, I figured we’d go to the justice of the peace, sign the certificate and come back home.” He cleared his throat. “Here. I was thinking you could have the guest room.”
“What if you have guests?”
“Right. My parents are always visiting.” He gave her an are-you-kidding-me expression.
“Don’t be smart.” She shook her head. “What if I have guests?”
“You have any other friends besides me and Jalissa?”
Yikes! How had she forgotten to consult her other best friend? Granted, Jalissa was five feet of snark and biting sarcasm. She’d probably lecture Trinity on stupid decisions and their consequences. No, she really didn’t want Jalissa’s opinion on marriage right now. She’d bring up the hurt Trinity had experienced after being jilted as a reminder to not be swayed. Trinity’s memory was just fine without Jalissa’s input.
“You’re right. I can sleep in the guest bedroom.” She bit her lip. “I can’t contribute to utilities right now. I mean, I have a little saved up—”
Omar held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll be a little tight until we find our footing.”
“What if I can get a job that allows me to work from home?”
Omar smirked. “Yeah, you may not think that’s feasible after spending the day with the girls.”
Why did everyone make it sound like she had no experience with children? She’d been the school librarian, surrounded by kids on a daily basis. Plus, like every teen in Bluebonnet, she’d done her share of babysitting back in high school. Granted, that had been over a decade ago, but still.
“I’m sure I can handle them.” She was smart. Capable, even. Not to mention, the girls loved her.
“Of course you can, but there are days they’ll test your limits.” Omar shifted his leg, and the swing swayed with the movement. “So, we’ve figured out housing, finances—”
“Wait. We didn’t figure out finances. I need to do something to contribute.”
“You are. Watching the girls is a necessity I can’t afford. You’re saving me money in that regard.”
“It’s not enough.” She didn’t want this to be some lopsided arrangement.
“Fine. Look for a job, but if you can’t find something, it really won’t be a problem.” He stared at her pointedly.
“Thank you.”
“Any other questions?”
“What are we going to tell the girls? Am I acting as their nanny or step—” She couldn’t say the word. She had no idea how he’d react if she said the one label that animated movies had been telling children was always preceded with a wicked.
Omar sighed. “I’m not sure how much they understand about weddings and whatnot. We’ll explain it to them after the ceremony. And if they don’t understand, we’ll just say you’ll be moving in and living in the house.”
“Okay.” It wasn’t a perfect answer but completely understandable. “And we’re both in this for life, right?” She couldn’t divorce. Even if she was jumping into a marriage for the convenience of it all, she still believed in the long-lasting vows.
“Right. The Bible’s pretty clear on that. Besides, I don’t think a lot of couples in the Bible married for love.”
“True.” Did Boaz love Ruth? She’d like to think so. He seemed so upstanding.
“Then that’s it? We’re getting married?” Omar’s brown eyes watched her expectantly.
She hesitated, words perched on the tip of her tongue. “I...I guess so.”
“It’ll be okay. You’ll see.” He wrapped her in a side hug, squeezing her arm.
“I hope so, Omar. I’d hate to mess up our friendship over health insurance and childcare.” Trinity choked out a laugh she didn’t really feel.
“You won’t. We won’t. It’s bound to feel strange at first, but I’m sure we’ll get into a rhythm. Our relationship has always been easy.”
“You’re right.” She squeezed her eyes shut. Why was she so worried?
Being Omar’s friend came as naturally as breathing air. From the moment she’d seen the quiet seven-year-old staring at her tire swing, she’d known they’d be friends. They had swung from the old tree in her parents’ yard until both of their parents had come outside and called them in. The next day, Omar had showed up the moment she’d sat on the tire swing, kind of materializing out of thin air. It had scared her and made him laugh. They’d been forever friends ever since.
“Thank you for this. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your friendship. That you’d help me out by marrying me.” Her stomach rolled. She’d have to figure out how to say the word without nausea taking over.
“Hey, friends help each other out.”
“When should we tie the knot, so to speak?” Her breath shuddered out.
She’d never imagined setting another wedding date. Never. Would Omar be offended if she showed up at the courthouse with a rash of hives all over? The image was so comical she snorted out loud.
“What?”
Trinity told him what she was thinking.
“Hey, I’m not him. I’ll be there, bright and early, and ready to say ‘I do.’”
“How about we promise if the other doesn’t show up, no hard feelings. It’s a big thing to commit to.”
“I’m not Jason, Trin.”
“I know, Omar.” For one they didn’t look alike. Jason had been a lighter shade than Omar, although both of them were African American. Besides, her ex had hightailed it out of Bluebonnet before she even knew what happened while Omar was always there for her.
Always.
Omar pulled out his cell phone and clicked on his calendar icon. “How about June seventh? It’s my last day off.”
And summer had already started for her, so Trinity had nothing preventing her from showing up. It’s not like they needed to marry on a Saturday or anything. She gave a nod. “The seventh it is.”
* * *
The day would forever be imprinted on his mind and his life. Omar swallowed, pushing down the urge to glance at his watch once more. Trinity had decided to ride with her parents to the courthouse. She’d already moved all of her things into the guest room yesterday. Or rather, he had, with the help of Mr. Davis and Rock.
Mr. Davis. He’d asked Omar to call him Charles, but it felt weird, wrong even. He’d been calling Trinity’s dad Mr. Davis since he moved to Bluebonnet. To be able to call him Charles simply because he was marrying the man’s daughter unnerved Omar a bit.
Okay, more like a lot, Lord. I’m going out of my mind. Maybe Trinity had the right idea about backing out.
Not that she had said that, per se. More like there would be no hard feelings. Judging by the tangled knots in his stomach, he’d rather face a five-alarm fire than...
Than what? Marry your best friend?
A friend loveth at all times.
Again, that verse rolled in his mind. He did love Trinity. As a friend. She was the steadiest person in his life. Without her, he’d have fallen apart after Christine’s death. Christine’s absence had left a giant hole in his life and Trinity had been there to help him navigate through it all. He couldn’t fail her.
When he’d called his parents, they’d been shocked but happy—until he told them it was simply for convenience. His mom had been disappointed. Apparently, she’d always thought he’d marry Trinity. Since they couldn’t fly out to attend the ceremony, they’d offered the use of his paternal grandmother’s wedding ring. And since Christine had worn his grandmother’s ring on his mom’s side, it seemed right for Trinity to have something of his family as well.
Before he could take a step toward the door, it opened.
Trinity strolled through wearing a red polka-dotted dress. Her braids hung freely down her back, pulled back by a red headband. Her dark brown skin glowed beneath th
e florescent lights and blush colored her cheeks. He was pretty sure the color was due to cosmetics and not a natural response on her part.
He couldn’t help the slight catch of his breath at how pretty she looked. She rarely wore dresses, preferring skirts that fell to her ankles and jeans with long tops. This dress stopped at her knees and she wore those weird sandals where the straps tied around her lower leg.
“Hey.” He smiled, stepping forward. “You look pretty.” Ugh. Did that sound as awkward to her ears as it did to his?
“And I didn’t yesterday?”
“What? No. I mean, yes.” He stopped, as Trinity gave in to the mirth. Omar shook his head. “Should have known you’d tease me.”
“Can’t pass on the opportunity.”
He smiled. “So, are we good?” he asked, lowering his voice. Hopefully her parents couldn’t hear him.
“I am.” Her dark eyes met his. “Are you?”
Was he? The nerves from earlier had all but disappeared with her presence. He did a mental assessment then nodded. “I’m ready.”
Relief brought her twin dimples out. “Great. Is the judge ready for us?”
“Not yet. I think he was waiting on the bride.” He winked, hoping to pull a chuckle from her.
Trinity could take forever to get ready. He knew she had to set her alarm two hours before church just to be ready for when he’d arrive. And still, she was always in midpreparation when he showed up. Why should their wedding day be any different?
“Omar Young, is your party complete?” Mrs. Whitam, the court secretary and receptionist, called to him from behind the partition.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“All right. Let me let y’all in.”
She left the partition and quickly appeared behind the glass door leading to the courtrooms. “Judge Hanvoy will marry y’all in room three.” She looked at them appraisingly. “I always knew y’all would marry. I told Harry, ‘Mark my words, those two will be married forever.’”
