He plucked the milk from her hand. “This is fine.”
She dumped the sugar back into her purse, tore open her sandwich, and took a big bite. “Mmm.” She chewed and swallowed and glanced back at him. “Sorry. Long day. I barely ate. I thought you might like something. Comfort food seemed appropriate.”
“PB and J is comfort food?”
“Yes. It’s nostalgic. Brings you back to a simpler time in life.” She shrugged. “Besides, the cafeteria was closing, so it was this or I run over to my shop and make us something, but you asked me to stay, so here I am.”
That’s when it hit him.
Trinity made him feel like he mattered in a basic and simple way.
Him. A stranger to her.
He didn’t want to be alone, so she sat beside him eating her sandwich, drinking her coffee, not expecting him to talk or do anything for her. She was here for him.
And his father. He got that.
But still.
He had a lot of business associates and friends back in California, but only a handful who would really miss him and show up if he called. He’d miss them, and hoped that over the next weeks and months he’d reconnect with old friends and make new ones as he settled in at the ranch with his dad.
Stephanie, his ex and Emmy’s mom, would arrive tomorrow with their daughter, but she wasn’t someone he could rely on for help and support without there being strings—usually tangled—attached. They weren’t a good match.
“What do I owe you for dinner?” Well past seven, he was starving.
The disgruntled frown and side-eye told him she didn’t expect payment and took offense to him offering.
With Steph, it was always give me more.
He didn’t know what to do with Trinity’s generosity. And didn’t that tell him how much he needed to spend time with other women and stop letting Steph take up so much room in his life that she made him not want to put himself out there and get burned again?
“Eat. You’ll feel better.” She dusted off her hands and balled up the wrapper. “If you do, I have a treat for you.” She pulled two large chocolate chip cookies wrapped in plastic from her bag. “I keep a few of these with me for emergencies.”
“I have a stash of Cheerios and fish crackers in my car just in case.”
“Those are for Emmy, right?”
“She loves her snacks.”
“A girl after my own heart.” Trinity bit into the cookie, and her eyes rolled back in pure appreciation. “There is nothing better than dessert and coffee.”
He couldn’t remember the last time he took such pleasure in something so simple.
He took another bite of the sandwich and let the taste take him back to the joy of opening his lunch box and finding his favorite meal packed by his mom. It made him miss her, but it also made him smile.
Trinity bumped her shoulder into his. “See. You remember.”
He did because of her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She handed over the cookie even though he hadn’t finished his sandwich yet. “He’s going to be okay.”
He didn’t know how much he needed to hear that, or understand why he believed her so easily, but the words and the certainty with which she said them had him relaxing into the chair and finishing his food.
“That cookie was amazing.”
“Thank you. We make them fresh daily.”
“Do you work at the grocery store or a restaurant? You said you delivered food to my dad.”
“We’re kinda in between a grocery store and restaurant. You can eat at the store, but mostly people come in to buy prepackaged meal kits or ready-made food that’s either hot or cold to take home, or back to their office.” She pulled out a to-go menu from her purse and handed it to him. “You can order online and pick up, or come in and shop.”
He checked out the items list and information about the store. It was a really cool idea. “I thought you said you deliver.”
“Not officially. We’re a neighborhood store, so we take care of our neighbors who are unable to shop for themselves—if they’re sick or housebound. Mostly for seniors.”
“My dad isn’t housebound.”
The defensive tone made her quickly explain. “He doesn’t like to drive as much anymore. Says his eyesight is going. I told him I’d take him to the optometrist, but he doesn’t want to put me out.” She bumped his shoulder with hers again. “Personally, I think he’s stubborn. And maybe a little vain about wearing glasses. But he needs to go, so I’ve been working on him. I actually have an appointment set up for him in two weeks. I figure it will take me that long to get him to agree to go.”
He turned to her and their knees touched. She didn’t move away, so neither did he. “How long have you known my dad?”
“Not long. We opened the store about a year ago.”
“And you’ve taken it on yourself to deliver food to him and make him eye appointments?” Jon got it. His dad probably loved her attention.
But why did she do it for someone she barely knew?
“Well, he doesn’t have anyone to help him, so I do.” She quickly added, “But you’re here now, so you might have better luck convincing him to take better care of himself.”
“I wonder if he’s dragging it out just so he can see you.” He’d probably do the same thing in his dad’s shoes. Something about her drew him in and made him want to get closer.
Look at him now. He’d asked her to stay with no real thought as to why he needed her to do so. He could take care of this on his own. He did most everything on his own.
But it was nice having her here.
Which made him think of how he’d found her, struggling to get his father into her car, and going into an all-out panic when he showed up, acting like he was going to stop her or something.
“What happened to you at the house when I drove up?” At the time he thought she’d ask him for help, but instead she’d wanted him to stay away from her.
“Oh, sorry. I just didn’t know who you were or what you were doing there. I . . . just needed to get Mr. Crawford to the hospital. That’s all.”
He didn’t think so, but didn’t push. She’d done him and his dad a huge favor. And in his mind, she might have saved his father’s life. He noticed the tremble in her hand, the long scar on her temple, and ignored those, too.
Down to the dregs of his coffee, he nearly dropped the paper cup when the doctor walked in. He quickly stood, eager to hear what he had to say. Trinity ended up right beside him a moment later.
“How is my dad?”
Trinity slipped her hand in his and squeezed. He held tight to her, hoping for good news, but preparing for the worst.
“Better. It’s a good thing you brought him in when you did. His oxygen level was dangerously low. He’s got a bacterial infection in his lungs we’re treating with antibiotics. We’ve moved him to a room upstairs. Third floor. We’ve got him on IV fluids for his dehydration. I hope to get him eating in the morning. We’ve given him some medicine to curb the coughing fits so he can get some much-needed rest. I expect in a couple days the antibiotics will kick in and he’ll feel much better.”
“You’re sure?” When his mother had been sick, they’d gotten similar news. They’d thought she’d be fine, but it all went wrong.