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"No, thanks… just the door. Lucky timing for me."
Claire eyeballed the bags as they boarded the elevator and selected their floors. "Wasn't Mary Sue cooking for y'all tonight?"
Brinnie huffed. "She is! I didn't plan this! I ran out of Sea Mist Blue. You cannot have a wind-swept bay without Sea Mist Blue. So I decided to make a quick trip to Joanie's, right?"
At Claire's nod, Brinnie continued, "Well, the marketplace next door was advertising their specials. Apparently, they screwed up and doubled an order, so they needed to sell all this shrimp before it went bad." She giggled. "I told 'em I'd buy more if they dropped the price further. Snagged enough to share around. And then, of course, I needed the fixins to make shrimp creole. You should come by and have some." She raised her eyebrows in question.
Claire grinned at the garrulous woman. Brinnie loved a good bargain. And, since she had plenty of money left from her late husband's estate, she often shared the proceeds of her haggling skills with others.
She shook her head. "Sounds yummy, but I already laid out chicken for tonight. I'm trying a new lemon chicken recipe. If it turns out well, I'll bring you a sample for tomorrow." Cooking for a single person was challenging, but being able to share with her new friends in the building made it fun. And maybe after today's nerve-racking events, she'd make fried pies, her stress-baking recipe of choice. She'd figured out years ago the tension drained right out of her while making the crispy treats filled with fruit preserves.
Brinnie nodded her head. "That works. I'll set aside a dish of the creole to swap with you. See ya later, sweetie," she said as she exited the elevator on the fifth floor.
Claire still wore a smile on her face as she entered her place. She made her way to her bedroom, where she threw her stuff on the bed, pulled off her boots, and changed into a soft, flowing dress with a flower print. The comfy feel of the loose gauze material lit up her soul when it caressed her body as she moved.
Back in the kitchen, she gathered her ingredients for tonight's supper. As she pulled out her large skillet, she called out, "Yo, Bacon Bits, call Dad."
She giggled, remembering her father's reaction the first time she launched a call with the voice activation feature. She'd renamed her phone's voice control feature based on her dad's favorite breakfast food, and he loved it. In truth, changing factory settings was a security thing, but you might as well have fun with it, right?
Her dad answered on the second ring. "Hello, sunshine! How are you today? And what's for dinner tonight?"
"Lemon chicken," she said. "I'm trying a recipe from Mom's cookbook." Claire faltered at the mention of her mother, but quickly continued. "I ran into Brinnie in the elevator. The group is making shrimp creole tonight. I'm gonna swap with her when I'm done."
"That Brinnie is a pistol." Her dad continued the conversation as if Claire hadn't mentioned anything heartbreaking. Her mom died in a car crash when Claire was a young girl, and it had been just the two of them for most of her life. She was eleven years old when she'd discovered her mother's packed up cookbooks. Since then, she'd done all the cooking in the house. Using her mother's recipes felt like something she could share with the woman she'd never truly known.
"And did you get all settled with the new doc?" Her father proceeded before Claire could comment further on Brinnie.
"Yep. I saw him last week, and Dr. Jane was right. I like him. I'll email you with all his contact information, so you have it in case of emergencies."
"Thanks, kiddo. Any episodes? And before you give me any grief, listen up. Moving and changing jobs are both in the top five most stressful life events. I know that 'cause I looked it up." She opened her mouth to protest, but her dad continued before she could interrupt him. "I worried about you when you first left Texas for California, and now moving back and starting a new job? Look, I know it's a positive change for you, but I still worry. And, as grown up as you may be, you're still my baby girl, ya know?"
Claire melted at the concern in her dad's voice. "I know. But I've updated all my health records everywhere and I still wear my medical ID bracelet, so I'm good. I've been paying attention and haven't experienced any issues since I've been here. I promise I'll tell you if I'm having problems."
"Good. And you're getting enough sleep? Taking your medication timely?"
"Yes, Dad. I'm managing my triggers." She smiled as she pictured her dad as a giant mama bear, fussing over her cubs. Don Broussard was a man's man, but soft as pudding with his daughter.
"I'm sorry if I'm pesterin' you too much." His voice was gruff.
"You're not. You're just loving me." The silence stretched, and she pictured her dad's face turning bright red. Claire decided a subject change was needed. "How's West Texas? And how was work today?" she asked.
Don filled her in on his day, sharing funny stories and making her laugh while she cut, chopped, and sautéed the ingredients from her recipe. Calling each other regularly was a routine they'd established when she'd left home for college, and it kept them both from feeling lonely. At first, they'd talked every day, but as Claire's social life expanded and her dad started dating again, their calls had whittled down to once a week. Or more frequently if one of them was going through something, like last year at her previous employer.
"How's Karen?" she asked.
The hesitation on her dad's end stilled her spoon. "Ah, she and I have parted ways. She was looking for something more permanent than I had in mind. We're still friends, though. I fixed her up with my buddy, Roy."
Claire laughed and resumed stirring. "Dad! You are too funny. I don't think it's normal to stay friends with all your exes." She chuckled. "But I do think it's cool. It means you're a nice guy." She covered the pan and turned down the heat. "I wish you could find someone you wanted to be more permanent with," she said softly.
"Yeah, well. Maybe someday, kiddo. So," he said, deftly changing the topic, "how's the new job? Anything new and exciting? I know you wanted boring and uneventful for a while after… well, after that jerk?—"
She cut him off. "As a matter of fact, yes, something new did happen. Simon officially introduced me to the MADS project team. Do you use that application?" One of the best things about working at her dad's company was they could actually talk about their work with each other.
"Yep. It's how we track our inventory. My office manager does most of the data entry and pulls the reports we need. I have a username, but it's been so long since I logged in, I don't remember my password. What's your role on the project?"
"That's terrible! You should keep track of your passwords," she admonished. "I'm making a mental note to set you up with a password manager. Trust me, it will make your life easier. As for my role, I'm managing data retrieval and will eventually help write portions of the new code. My understanding is we want the system to enter transactions automatically between different locations."
"Yeah, we need that." Her dad went quiet as he contemplated the idea. "We've run into issues with our inventory when things weren't entered correctly on both ends. You can get into a real bind with customers when you promise a quick delivery, only to discover the item isn't on the shelves like your report showed." He paused. "I like having an inside track on this. Keep me in the loop, will you?"
