These were just her tasks and chores. Another huge part of her mind was preoccupied with Spencer’s house, but that wasn’t a chore at all. That part was exciting. She liked the creativity and appreciated how grateful he seemed each time she suggested something new. Maybe it was the validation she enjoyed so much. Having someone encourage her talent like this. She didn’t get much of that at home. Children could be brutal, but not intentionally. Mia had once told Trinity that the dress she wore to the Mother’s Day tea at school looked like she was a birthday party clown. That colorful frock went straight into the donation pile as soon as Trinity got home.
But Spencer was generous with his compliments. Sometimes, Trinity wondered if there was an ulterior motive there. He hadn’t tried anything, of course. He hadn’t even hugged her the other day, which had surprised her a little. To her, it felt appropriate to do so, and she almost had to hold herself back from stepping forward to wrap her arms around him.
Sighing, she turned the page of her book, realizing she couldn’t even recall the novel’s title or any part of the storyline, really. Time to put it down. And at just the right moment, it seemed, because as she transferred the book to the table and gathered a throw blanket to wrap around her shoulders, her phone rattled on the coffee table, illuminating with Spencer’s name and number.
Oh, she was nervous. If it had just been a phone call, it wouldn’t have been so nerve-racking. But this was a video call,and he’d be able to see her and she, him. With a waggle of her shoulders, a deep breath, and a pinch of her cheeks to give them a bit of a rosy glow, she clicked on the accept button.
“Hey.” His face came across the screen, toothy grin and all. Instantly, Trinity’s nerves subsided. There was just something so comforting about Spencer, and she couldn’t put her finger on it. “I hope it’s not too late.”
“Not at all,” she replied. “I was just doing some reading.”
“What book?”
She panicked a little. “Um, I…I honestly couldn’t tell you.”
“Page turner, huh?” he chuckled, and the phone jostled.
“I have a hard time focusing. To be totally honest, I don’t think I’ve finished an entire book since before I had kids. Kinda pathetic, I know.”
“Not pathetic. Understandable. I don’t imagine being a single mom leaves much time for anything else.” His throat pulled with a swallow. “Which is why I want to thank you for helping me with all of this house stuff. I know your time is limited, and it means a lot that you’re willing to give what little you have left to me.”
This man was too kind. Not a conversation went by without Spencer expressing his gratitude. She could get used to this.
“I’m not any busier than you or Josephine or any other person in Snowdrift. We all have our responsibilities and our roles. But coming together is what makes our community so special. I’m just doing my part.”
Through the screen, he just smiled, and something about his expression made Trinity’s heart do a little flip. Spencer was very handsome. She’d noticed that before. But his kindness and his generosity made him even more attractive. It was hard not to be drawn to a man of his character. His looks were just icing on the cake.
“I’ve got the quilts here if you want to see them.” He moved around and slipped from view before popping back onto the screen. “I think I know my favorite, but I’d like to know which one you prefer.”
“I’d love to see them.”
“Hold on. Let me see if I can figure out how to flip the camera around.”
It was a few seconds more of jostling and fumbling, but Spencer managed to successfully rotate the camera. Two beautiful, folded quilts came into view, the details on each making Trinity’s mouth slip open into a littleO. She’d never seen so many different textures and tones in one blanket. And yet, everything came together so seamlessly, despite the many variations in fabrics and colors.
“Those are gorgeous,” she breathed. “Is there a story behind them?”
“Actually, there is. Every square on these quilts represents a person in our family tree. There’s lace from wedding veils and dresses, and pieces of the uniforms that a few of my relatives wore in battle. Other fabrics come from baptism outfits and first day of school clothes. Basically, scraps from every important milestone in our family’s long history. Nana Jo saved enough over the years to make one quilt for each of her grandchildren. Her plan was to give them to us when we got married, but so far, that hasn’t happened. Lance is probably the closest to meeting that milestone, but I guess she just couldn’t wait any longer. She gave him his last Christmas. All that’s left was mine and Clara’s.”
“Does your sister have her heart set on one?”
Spencer shrugged. “She said I could have first pick. She’s not particular, and not nearly as sentimental as I am when it comes to stuff like this.”
Trinity studied the quilts, admiring different aspects of each one. They were both so uniquely beautiful that he really couldn’tgo wrong either way. But something about the one on the left with its deep forest greens, repeating patterns of denim, and more natural tones felt the most like Spencer in her mind. It was an easy decision.
“I like the one closest to the camera. The one on my left,” she said. “It’ll be perfect in your new home.”
Spencer smiled. “That’s the one I liked best, too, I just needed a little nudge in that direction.”
“You should trust your instincts.”
“I do,” he said. “I mean, when it comes to people, animals. Home décor? Yeah, not nearly as confident there.”
“Let me ask you something.” She burrowed deeper into the couch cushions and tugged the blanket tighter, making herself comfortable as she propped up the phone so she didn’t need to hold it with her hands. “Why were you leaning to the quilt on the left?”
“I felt something when I looked at it.”
“What was that feeling?”
