Click. Click.
‘Sounds like the starter motor,’ Pops said.
Reid smiled to himself. His grandfather was getting more and more forgetful but, a car enthusiast from way back, those memories were still fresh and vivid. ‘Yes.’
He strode over to the car. Trinity, gripping the wheel, appeared to be praying for it to work. He knocked on the window. It was a few seconds before she acknowledged him with a straight-out glare. But she rolled the window down anyway.
‘Sounds like the starter motor.’
She blew out her breath, staring at the bonnet through the windscreen. ‘The starter motor.’ The lines on her forehead furrowed a little deeper.
Reid crouched by the car door, searching for the right thing to say. A wild animal was always at its most dangerous when it was cornered. And that was how Trinity seemed at the moment—wild.
‘I’ve got a mate who’s a mechanic. He’ll fix it pronto.’
She seemed to contemplate that for a few seconds. ‘Do you know how much it would cost?’
Reid shrugged. ‘A few hundred dollars.’
She looked away but not before he saw the quick flash of dismay in her gaze. Her knuckles went so white around the wheel he was worried they were going to burst through her skin. He knew in that moment Trinity was just barely keeping her shit together.
‘I can pay for it.’
‘No.’ She shook her head vehemently.
Reid put his hands up in a placating manner. ‘Just hear me out. I said that I owed you and I meant it. Let me do this for you. As a thank you. I can arrange it right away and give you a lift home.’ He flicked a glance to Oscar sitting quietly in the back seat as if he was used to such breakdowns. ‘What do you reckon, little dude?’
‘We don’t have a home.’
Reid blinked at the matter-of-fact revelation as Trinity admonished her son with a quick, ‘Oscar!’
He glanced at the interior of the car, packed to the rafters with bulging black garbage bags. He’d suspected as much...
‘Ignore him,’ she said, her laughter so brittle he was surprised it didn’t shatter into pieces around her. ‘Kids say the damnedest things.’ Her gaze was overly bright, the smile plastered to her face so big it looked painful.
Reid didn’t know why fate had landed Trinity and her son in his lap today. But he was standing at a crossroads. He could take her assurances at face value and walk away. Or he could step in. As she’d done for Pops earlier.
Reid was a big believer in fate. His faith in any kind of God had been destroyed a long time ago but he’d seen too many incidences of people being in the right or wrong places at the right or wrong time to dismiss the mystical forces of predetermination. Trinity and Oscar had crossed his path for a reason and if he could help them in some way, he would.
Part of his job was advocating for homeless veterans—why wouldn’t he afford these two the same courtesy?
‘I’m going to call my mechanic friend. He’s going to come and pick your car up. Then you and Oscar are going to come to my house where we can talk a bit more.’
‘Oh, no, we’re not,’ she said, the plastered smile disappearing, a determined jut to her chin.
‘Trinity...’ He didn’t know why she was looking a gift horse in the mouth. He supposed a woman in her situation was wary about who to trust. ‘You can trust me. I live just down the road. In this street. The big white house that you can just see from here.’ He pointed at it and she glanced in its direction. ‘It’s my grandfather’s house, I live with him. Don’t I, Pops?’
Eddie nodded. ‘He’s a good ’un. Looks after his old grandad, real fine.’
She glanced from Reid to Eddie and back to Reid. He changed tack. ‘Look...to be honest, you’d be doing me a favour. I have to go back to work for two more hours and I won’t be able to organise someone to be with Pops at such short notice. I know you’ve already gone above and beyond and I know I don’t have any right to ask but if you and Oscar could hang with him until I get back it would be a load off my mind.’
She glanced at Eddie and her face softened a little, her chin lost its defiant jut. Bingo.
‘He’s completely independent,’ Reid said, pressing his advantage, although the thought that the dementia might progress until that was no longer true churned in his gut. ‘You don’t need to do anything with him. He just loves company.’ He flicked his gaze to Oscar, smiling at him. ‘What you say, little dude? Want to come back to my house and hang out with Eddie for a bit? We have a cat.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Oscar clapped, bouncing in his chair. ‘Mummy, can we, please? Please? Pleeease?’
She shot him a withering look. ‘Are you kidding me?’ she murmured, her incredulous gaze calling him out on his blatant manipulation.
Yeah...that had been a bit of a low move. Not quite like offering candy to a baby but not far off. ‘Look. The car will probably be fixed by the time I get back from work and you can be on your way.’
Suddenly her shoulders slumped and he knew he’d won. It didn’t give him much pleasure, manipulating a woman who probably had few choices in life anyway. But he really wanted to help her if he could and he needed a way in.
She turned her head to face Oscar. ‘Of course, darling,’ she said. Her voice was chirpy and Oscar beamed as if he’d just found a million bucks, but as she turned to face him her eyes shot daggers right through his heart.
If looks could kill, he’d be dead for sure.
‘DO YOU LIKE CRICKET, young man?’
Oscar’s eyes grew to the size of saucers at the massive wall-mounted television screen. It had obviously been on when Eddie had wandered away from the house.
Cartoons and cricket were Oscar’s two favourite things in the world. Maybe because one of his earliest memories was the captain of the Australian cricket team visiting during one of his many hospitalisations. Oscar had wanted to play cricket ever since.
‘I love cricket,’ he said, voice full of reverence.
‘Well, come on, then,’ Eddie said, pointing to a big, comfy recliner chair. ‘Climb up. There’s still a couple of hours before they break for lunch.’ He eased himself down very gently into a more formal, higher chair.
Back in the familiarity of his surroundings, Eddie seemed perfectly compos mentis. He was pointing to the screen and reciting some stats to Oscar, who was nodding in fascination as if Eddie were some kind of guru.
A big old marmalade cat wandered into the room, tail flicking from side to side. It jumped up on the chair beside Oscar before collapsing regally across his skinny legs.
‘That’s
