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Trinity stood in the Tea Room while Stella and the dressmaker spoke about fabric, stitching, colors and a whole bunch of other things that were foreign to her. She was so glad she’d dragged Stella with her.
The young Almighty had argued with Mrs. Champfur that it didn’t matter if everyone else wore white and pastels, Trinity would look better in darker colors.
At first, Trinity had wondered if the other female was trying to make her look foolish, but she liked those shades better. They were the colors of the forest in the fall—rich and dark, a vibrant display before the sparsity of winter.
“Trinity. We need...” Tim walked into the room, stopping when his eyes landed on the two Almighty females.
“Hey, Dad.” She’d have to explain Stella’s presence later, but right now, she’d
