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She whistles. “And I thought you were already an angel. I might just build you a shrine after this.”

I say nothing.

“Anyway, I think I’ll accept your offer, thank you very much. Once we’ve made sure Helen’s fine, I’ll head home and get ready for my shopping spree and my date. You can hurry home to your… guests.”

Guests? I’m not sure if that word is the right one, though I don’t know what is. Well, I was planning on hurrying home. After all, Triss might need my help with Lara again. And who knows with what else?

~

Nothing, apparently, I realize as soon as I see her in the kitchen.

She’s standing over the stove with her back to me. I can’t see what she’s doing exactly, but I can see Abby’s apron wrapped around her waist. I can smell some spices coming from the pot, too. Curry? It was Mitch’s favorite dish, but I haven’t had it since he died. Why is Triss making it?

Just then, she turns. Her eyes grow wide when she sees me. Then she smiles.

“Hey. I thought I heard the truck in the driveway. Welcome back.”

It’s the first time I’ve seen her smile since she arrived, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen all day. Her amber eyes seem to gleam like the stained glass I once saw in a cathedral, lighting up her entire face.

How can she manage such a genuine and radiant smile when just yesterday she looked like she was about to fall apart?

“Thanks,” I say. “How’s Lara?”

She glances at the bassinet on the dining table and so do I. Lara seems amused enough playing with her bib while sucking on her pacifier.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’m using your kitchen,” Triss tells me. “I just thought I’d cook something for you so you had something to eat when you came back. It should be ready soon.”

She turns back to the stove. As I walk towards her, I realize that the dishes on the sink have been washed and the items on the counter are now organized. The marble countertop seems to have a sheen to it, too.

Triss cleaned the kitchen and then cooked?

“I don’t mind,” I say as I stand next to her. “But you didn’t have to. You didn’t have to do anything.”

“I wanted to,” she tells me as she stirs the pot. “You’ve done so much for me. You’ve offered me your home. The least I can do is to take care of the chores.”

“You’re already taking care of a baby,” I remind her.

She glances at the bassinet again. “And right now, she’s behaving. I’ve already changed her, fed her, burped her. I can’t just sit and stare at her all the time, can I?”

This from the woman who was panicking last night. Today, she seems like a whole new person.

“Care to taste it?” Triss grabs a spoon. “I made curry because I saw that the spice mix in the cupboard was going to expire soon. I’m not sure if you’ll like the taste, though.”

I take the spoon and dip it into the brown sauce inside the pot. I bring it to my lips. The taste of turmeric, cumin, chili, garlic and other ingredients I can’t quite put a finger on coats my tongue. I get a slight hint of apples, too.

It tastes exactly like Mitch’s favorite curry.

I put down the spoon and nod. “It tastes great.”

Triss gives me another smile. “Really?”

She tastes it and gives the same measure of approval.

“I’ll just let it simmer for a few minutes more and then we can eat.”

“Sounds good,” I say.

Sounds better than the sandwich and salad or the pasta dish I usually make.

“Why don’t you go change?” Triss suggests. “You don’t want to get curry sauce on that shirt, do you?”

Good idea. “Okay.”

I go upstairs to take a quick shower and change. When I come back, the table is already set, the steaming pot of curry in the middle of it. Triss has Lara on her lap.

“She started getting fussy so she might be hungry.” Triss mixes something in a small bowl. “I boiled some carrots separately for her. You think she’ll like it?”

“Many babies do,” I answer. “Want me to feed her?”

“Nope.” She shakes her head. “Just eat. Please. I’ve got this.”

She does look like it, so I sit. As I eat, I can’t help but stare at her in fascination. When I was an intern, I tried to treat a woman who had been physically abused. She wouldn’t let me touch her. Later, I learned from a colleague that she tried to take her own life in the hospital even though she was pregnant. She nearly succeeded. It wasn’t just her bones that had been broken but her mind, her spirit. Triss, though, looks fine. She tried to leave Lara behind and run away from me, true, but now she seems determined to take care of her baby. I don’t know if she trusts me, but she’s letting me help her, and she’s even helping me. She isn’t as frail as I thought she was.

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