Page 9 of Healing Hope

Paul’s gaze followed her movements. He couldn’t help himself. She did, indeed, have shorts on. They were just super short. As she turned from the fridge, he jerked his eyes up to hers. It had been an incredibly long time since he’d felt any kind of interest for a woman.

“There is no food in here,” she said, propping her hands on her hips.

Paul frowned, feeling defensive. “There are Go-gurts, and stuff. And cheese.”

Jess made a face and him. “There are no vegetables or anything. What were you planning on eating today?”

Paul shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know, I would’ve ordered some takeout, probably.”

She looked at him askance, and he felt like the lowest of the low for not feeding his child.

“That was a great dinner last night. How...” She planted her hands on her hips.

“I have a meal delivery service. They drop off ingredients twice a week and I cook them.”

Ah, that made sense. There were some condiments in the fridge and a few snacks, but nothing substantial. “I think one of the first things we need to do is go get groceries,” she told him.

Paul thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “If that’s what you want to do, we can. I have to warn you, though, I’m not much of a cook.”

She gave him a smile. “I’m not cooking for you. I’m cooking for the girl.”

So, an hour later, still a little peeved in spite of himself at her words, Paul drove all three of them to the local Whole Foods in his truck. Hope was already being fractious because they’d left Sophie at home, but they continued on. When they arrived at the store, the girl hung back, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.

“So, what kind of food you like to eat, Hope?” Jess asked her, guiding her into the store.

She gave that universal child’s response of a shrug. Jess pulled the cart from the line of carts. “Do you not want to tell me or do you not know?”

Again, the shrug.

They walked into the store. “Well, if you don’t know what you like, I guess I’ll just get the food I like and cook it for you.”

They moved into the vegetable section, and Jess started adding items to the cart. Paul watched her, wondering if she could actually cook all the vegetables she was picking out. So far, Hope had been pretty picky about everything. He’d offered to order her a bunch of different things, but she always came back to chicken. And sometimes peas. Last night she’d eaten the chicken only, then come downstairs for a yogurt about midnight. Though he knew it wasn’t good for her, Paul never scolded her for eating anything, no matter the time. If she was hungry, she needed to know that she could get something out of the fridge whenever she wanted to.

That was important to him. Something about the way she behaved made him think she hadn’t always had food, and that made him angry. For almost five years, he’d wanted to be a part of the girl’s life. Even if it had been only for visitation. He would have happily paid child support just to see her. Then maybe he would have had some reassurance that she had food in her stomach.

Jess plucked something from one of the displays and kneeled down in front of Hope. “Check these out. Miniature grapes.”

Hope was intrigued, Paul could tell, but she tried to maintain her distance. Jess didn’t let her, though, following in a crouch as she took a step back. “These are called champagne grapes. Just try one and I’ll leave you alone. They’re amazing!”

Jess popped a couple of the tiny red grapes into her own mouth, then held a couple out to Hope. Paul was genuinely surprised when Hope reached out and took them from her hand.

Watching her eyes widen in surprised pleasure when she bit into them, Paul grinned. His gaze connected with Jess’s for a split second, just long enough for her to wink at him. Then she set an entire bag of the champagne grapes into the cart. Before she moved away, she held her hand out to him. Three tiny grapes rested on her palm.

Paul was a little taken aback. He hadn’t expected her to include him in their little interaction. With his left hand, he picked up the grapes and tossed them into his mouth. He popped them with his tongue and grinned at the almost pure taste of sugar. When he looked down, both females were watching him expectantly, so he nodded and grinned. “Really good,” he said.

Smiling, Jess turned back to the shelves. Hope was still watching him, as if making sure he stuck by what he’d said. Deliberately he reached into the bag and pulled out a tiny handful, sharing some with his daughter. She eyed him for a moment as if debating whether or not he would poison her, then took them, and it made him inordinately happy.

They worked their way through every section of the grocery store. When there was food available to try, Jess offered it to Hope. More than a few times she took the food, then they had to decipher the faces she made.

By the time they made it around the store, they had almost a full cart of food. Paul was pleasantly surprised. Handing over his credit card, he paid for the food happily, hopeful that his child would start eating better. She’d been so picky…

They left the grocery store and headed to the truck. Paul unloaded the reusable grocery bags Jess had produced from somewhere behind the passenger side of the vehicle. Hope’s booster seat was on the other side. Jess fastened her into the seat, then circled the vehicle to the passenger side. Paul appreciated she didn’t automatically offer to drive or anything. Actually, she hadn’t said anything at all about his amputation. Or even offered to take over any task. Her focus had been on his daughter, and he appreciated that. He’d lost his arm years ago and he’d learned to adapt to the prosthetic’s capabilities.

Hope was responding to Jess and she was the focus, so that was perfect.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been back to San Diego,” Jess said, glancing back at Hope. “Any new cool places I haven’t seen?”

Paul thought maybe she was looking for a zoo suggestion or something, but Hope stayed quiet, looking out the window. Paul wished he could tell the girl that everything was going to be okay, and that no matter how scared she was, he would always be here for her. Losing a parent scarred a person, though, and he doubted she would believe him.

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