Chapter Nine

 

 

On Monday morning, Celeste woke with a sense something was amiss. She sat up in bed, and the memory of the previous night returned, when she and Lucas had been so sick.

She jumped out of bed and quickly turned to Lucas’s bedroom to check on him. Had he needed her during the night? She couldn’t even remember getting to her bedroom.

Lucas lay in his bed, a leg on top of the sheets. She touched her fingers to his forehead and found no trace of fever. Slowly, more memories crawled to the front of her mind. Lucas had puked all over himself and his bed, but the floor looked clean, the sheets had been changed, and Lucas smelled fresh and wore clean pajamas.

Filipe.

Hugo hadn’t replied or shown up, but Filipe had called on the phone to find out why she’d left from Porto without waiting for him, but she hadn’t been in a condition to talk, let alone reply to what he sought. He’d offered to come when she told him they were sick, and she’d replied no, but he’d come anyway. Celeste remembered opening the door to him.

She padded to the kitchen. The dirty dishes had been washed and put away, the counters wiped, the floor swept. She walked through the rest of the apartment to see that Filipe had straightened the living room, cleaned the bathroom, taken out the full garbage bags, then replaced them with new, empty ones. He’d even put Lucas’s sheets in the washer, which she quickly hung up on the line to dry.

In the refrigerator, she found the soup he’d brought. She poured the contents in a small pot to warm on the stove. Celeste sat at the kitchen table while she waited, overwhelmed and grateful. Her heart softened. When was the last time she’d had someone do anything for her and Lucas?

Hugo had never been the kind of husband to pitch in. Early on in their marriage, they’d slipped into more traditional roles, despite both of them having jobs. Even during her pregnancy and after Lucas was born, Hugo still hadn’t helped, and even resented the time and attention she gave the baby.

After Hugo lost his job, he’d spent less and less time at home, until it came to the point that he was barely there, and finally she just asked him for a divorce. By then, they hadn’t been a family of three for quite some time, and she was relieved when he’d agreed to it. She welcomed the change in status and only regretted the way it affected Lucas. Unfortunately, he never rose to the role of father she’d envisioned for Lucas, and nowadays Hugo was only too happy to allow Celeste to take his son on his weekend.

Celeste had been on her own for so long, she never even thought to ask for help, never expected it. And now she didn’t know how to deal with what Filipe had done for them, for both her and Lucas. Notwithstanding the midnight kisses they’d exchanged on Saturday night, she knew Filipe was a friend and he cared for her.

She found her phone in her purse with a low battery. After plugging it in to charge, she scrolled through the notifications and found Filipe’s latest text message.

Don’t worry about coming to work today. Take the time to get better, you and Lucas. I’ll check on you later.

The words filled the screen, and she stared at them, unable to think of a reply. A simple thank-you was not enough, but she had to start somewhere.

Thank you. For everything, she added.

Filipe’s reply came immediately. No problem. Are you and Lucas feeling better? Do you need anything?

Lucas is still sleeping, but he looks fine. I’m feeling better too.

I’m glad. You two didn’t look too good yesterday.

You didn’t have to clean my apartment, Filipe.

I figured you could use a break.

He was right, of course. Celeste took a deep breath. I’m sorry for leaving without telling you.

Don’t worry about it. We’ll find another chance to talk.

Yes, I’d like that.

I’ll talk to you later.

Celeste swiped at the screen and turned the phone to sleep mode face down on the table.

What kind of talk did he want to have? Did he mean to bring up the kiss? What would she say to that?

Here was Filipe back in her life, offering friendship and company, befriending her young son, and showing her the love and support that extended family could be—and she was struggling to know what to do with it.

Because she was afraid.

What she had was a plain and simple fear of being hurt and rejected and losing more than what she had before. And to complicate matters, there was too much unresolved about their past.

“Mamã?”

Lucas appeared at the door, his hair poking up in all directions. Celeste opened her arms, and he pressed his small body against hers, still warm and soft from bed and sleep. She kissed his cheeks while he let her. Sometimes, when he returned from spending time with his dad, he shrank from her and declared himself too old for cuddles and hugs. So she hugged him a little tighter when she could, taking advantage of his fresh-out-of-bed state and his willingness to return her embrace. He was growing too fast, and she wasn’t ready for it.

At last he pulled back, and she let him go. “How are you feeling? Is your tummy better?”

Lucas nodded and patted his stomach. “I think the sick is gone from my belly. It’s hungry again.”

“It is? We’ll have to feed that hungry belly, then.” She poked a finger at this middle and he laughed.

They spent the rest of the morning inside, taking it easy like Filipe had suggested. Lucas had recovered well and was ready for his regular routine, asking her repeatedly to go to the aquarium to see the swans. Fearing a relapse, Celeste convinced him to stay in. They watched movies, built a fort of blankets under the kitchen table, and had a picnic on the living room floor of soup, saltwater crackers, and bananas, just in case regular food was too much.

By the end of the afternoon, Lucas’s energy was boundless, and Celeste’s patience was limited.

When Hugo’s call came, asking to see Lucas for dinner, Celeste hesitated. Lately, it seemed he only brought drama into their lives, and she didn’t want his negativity spilling into Lucas’s mood. But he was the father, and denying him would be wrong.

He arrived on time—for a change—and waited by the front door while Lucas put on his shoes.

“Take it easy with him, please,” Celeste said. “He was sick last night, and he might not be completely recovered.”

“Is that guy here again?” Hugo asked with a glance toward the inside of the apartment.

“What guy?”

“Sounds like he didn’t tell you I dropped by.” His voice held a tone of accusation.

“You came by? When?”

“At the end of the day. Who’s he?”

“Just a friend,” she said. So much more than a friend, but not worth trying to explain to him. He’d never understand.

Lucas, as she’d expected, was overjoyed to leave with his dad and barely looked back when they left. She watched them from the living room window as they drove away, hoping Hugo would be on his best behavior. It was pathetic she had more faith in her five-year-old son than she did in her ex-husband.

She looked around, momentarily lost at being alone and with not much to do. Picking up in the living room and making the beds took only a few minutes. Filipe had been thorough with his cleaning on Sunday night.

As she glanced at her phone on the counter, a crazy idea flashed through her mind. Celeste grabbed it and typed a message to Filipe before she came to her senses.

Is spaghetti with meatballs still your favorite?

As soon as she hit send, a sense of panic coursed through her body. Too late to take it back. Was this what she wanted? To spend time alone with Filipe? They’d left things in limbo after the kiss last Saturday, and a conversation was due.

Depends on who’s making it.

Celeste’s mouth quirked at his reply. Still a picky eater, after all this time.

I’ve learned a few things since I was seventeen, she replied.

I’m sure you have.

I meant cooking.

Of course. That’s what we’re talking about, right?

Come at seven. If you’re not too busy.

Never too busy for you.

There he was, flirting with her again. Everything with Filipe seemed so easy and light when they texted. Until they met in person. Then, neither one of them knew how to treat the other. Unless she counted the one-time kiss.

One thing she knew—kissing Filipe one time had only made her realize how many more times she really wanted to kiss him.

 

* * *

 

Filipe knocked on the door and shifted the bag in his hands. He’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t nervous. The last time he’d been here, Celeste and Lucas had been too sick, and the time before that, the invitation had come from the boy, despite Celeste’s insistence he come.

But today she’d initiated it, both the text and the offer of dinner. And here he was, with sweaty palms and a rapid heartbeat, his body betraying the stern talking-to he’d had with himself before leaving—take it easy.

When she opened the door, Filipe stared, temporarily speechless. She was dressed simply in a fitted T-shirt and skinny jeans, both pieces showcasing her curves. At the sight of her bare feet, he swallowed.

A beeping sound came from somewhere inside, and she turned, looking over her shoulder. “Lock the door, will you? I need to drain the pasta.”

He finally came to his senses and did as she asked, then followed her down the short hallway. Her hair was piled on top of her head, leaving her neck exposed, and Filipe forced himself to slow down. He’d always loved the sight of her neck, and the desire to reach an arm around her waist, pull her against his chest, and kiss her skin behind her ear—he’d be in trouble if he didn’t keep himself in check.

In the kitchen, Celeste stood at the sink with a pot in her hands, draining the water.

Filipe walked to the refrigerator and stuck the ice cream carton inside the freezer. “I brought some ice cream. Lucas’s favorite flavor.”

She turned to him and smiled. “Sweet cream?”

Filipe nodded. “Where is the little guy?”

Celeste set a serving bowl on the table and winced. “Hugo took him out for dinner. Quite unexpectedly, I might say.”

With Lucas gone, it was just him and her. Filipe’s pulse jumped.

A blush stole across her cheeks, as she must have seen what he was thinking. Probably not too hard to guess.

The small kitchen didn’t afford much room, and he was determined to give her space. Remembering how she’d felt in his arms and the way they’d kissed just last week had him wishing for more, but the memories would have to suffice. The guilt he’d been carrying for his part in her brother’s accident was not the kind of thing to be overlooked in a relationship, and the last thing he wanted was to bring more pain to Celeste’s life.

Celeste stepped behind the counter and opened a drawer. “Hugo mentioned you two met on Sunday night.”

Filipe took a step back, as if physical distance between them could break the pull he felt, and leaned against the doorjamb. “He knocked on the door when I was straightening out a few things.”

“How did that go?” Celeste raised her eyes at him from across the kitchen, then walked over with a serving fork.

“I might have been a bit too honest with my opinion,” Filipe confessed.

She motioned for him to sit. “I’m not sure if I should be happy I missed it or sorry I wasn’t there to watch it.”

“Take my word. You didn’t miss anything.” Other than two men measuring each other up like cavemen.

The table was already set with two of everything, and he took the chair at the end like he had last time, only Lucas wasn’t there to diffuse the tension that threatened to rise already.

At first, neither of them said much, concentrating on the food.

“This is really good,” he said, raising his eyes at Celeste. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Celeste smiled. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you could come.”

“I’m glad you and Lucas are feeling better,” Filipe said.

She nodded. “That was not fun, but thank goodness it ran its course fast. How did the day go at the aquarium?”

Filipe placed his knife and fork down. “It started rather strangely with a surprise visit from a building and license inspector.” He told her how he’d found Alice already on the grounds with the inspector and how the man had requested to see all the paperwork related to the renovation project.

“How odd,” Celeste said. She got up, opened the fridge, and retrieved two stainless steel dessert cups. “I hope you don’t mind chocolate mousse. I’ll save the sweet cream ice cream for Lucas some other time.” She handed him one along with a spoon.

“You remembered,” Filipe said to her, momentarily distracted. Chocolate mousse had been his favorite dessert ever since he could remember, and she hadn’t forgotten it either.

He took a bite, savoring the chilled, smooth texture and the rich, deep flavor of dark chocolate infused with a splash of espresso. Just the way he liked it.

He licked the spoon to the very end. “I haven’t had mousse like this in years.”

Celeste smiled, her eyes shining with what could only be a hint of pride and satisfaction.

Reluctantly, Filipe continued. “Do you remember the last time the former director had a surprise inspection?”

“In all the years I’ve been at the aquarium, not a single one,” she replied.

Filipe frowned. “No inspections?”

“We had inspections but not surprise ones. They were always scheduled,” Celeste confirmed.

“And since the director’s death, have you had anyone come by?”

“We did, right after he died,” Celeste said. “The inspection failed, and the aquarium was closed to guests.”

“From what agency did the inspector come?” Filipe asked.

“The National Association for Regulation of Zoos and Aquariums.”

Filipe leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “That makes more sense than having a building and license inspector drop by unannounced.”

Celeste brought over two small cups with instant espresso. “Did he come on account of the renovation? What did he tell you?”

“He said a concerned citizen informed the office about the renovation, but I’m not buying it.” Filipe stirred the coffee slowly.

“It sounds very convenient,” Celeste said. “What did he even find to cite? You have everything in order.”

Filipe smiled at her in gratitude. That was exactly the kind of support he needed, from a friend who knew him and knew he wouldn’t try to be dishonest in his business dealings.

He related to her what the preliminary report said. “The inspector said the in-depth report will be available in four days.”

“And in the meantime, you can’t go on with the work. What did Alice say to all this?”

“She said she didn’t know anything about it, but that I should watch out for—” Filipe rubbed the side of his neck, pondering the best way to bring up the subject.

Celeste raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. She said something about me.”

“She said you don’t have an aquarist license,” Filipe told her.

Her hesitation was minimal, but he caught it. “It’s true, I don’t. I didn’t attend the last semester of classes.” Her shoulders slumped in resignation. “Was that all she said?”

“I’m sorry I have to ask these questions,” he said, hating himself for doing it.

Celeste waived her hand in a dismissal gesture. “I already know Alice doesn’t like me. It can’t be any worse than what she’s told me to my face.”

It didn’t make any sense why Alice treated Celeste this way. “She said the director told her he was in the process of firing you.”

Celeste’s eyes widened. “No, that’s not true. Why would he? I always passed the employee evaluations. We had a good professional relationship, and he was like a mentor to me. He would have told me face-to-face if there was something he didn’t like about my work.”

Filipe reached his hand and touched hers. “I believe you. Of course I believe you. I just wish there was a way of proving that Alice called to alert this new inspector.”

“You think she’s involved?”

“I have a gut feeling she is, but no proof, and I can’t just let her go of without just cause.” The rights of employees were a delicate subject. He’d have to meet with his lawyer and find out what he could do regarding the situation before he contemplated firing Alice. “I know I’m the owner now and I make the decisions, but I almost wish I could talk to Senhor Xavier and get his opinion,” he confessed to Celeste.

Feeling like an outsider in his own business was foreign for him. He had a reputation for making sound decisions that had led him this far, and he always trusted his instincts. But now, with Celeste and Lucas in his life, it seemed his heart had taken over, instead of his mind, and he liked the way it made him feel, despite the roadblocks thrown at them.

Celeste moved to the sofa, and he followed.

“Too bad he didn’t leave his planner to the next owner,” she said, settling against the corner, her feet tucked under.

“What planner?”

“He had a small black leather planner he carried all the time, and he wrote notes on it when he was at work. I remember asking him about it one time, and he said he could run the aquarium with all the information in there.”

“Do you know what happened to it?”

Celeste shook her head. “I packed up all of his belongings and sent them to his widow, but I don’t remember seeing it.” She reached for her phone and scrolled down the screen until she found the name she was looking for. “I could ask his wife if the planner ever showed up. I still have her phone number.”

“That could be helpful,” Filipe said. Maybe the planner didn’t have anything in it, but it would be worth a try, if Celeste could find it.

Celeste watched him, a sort of expectation and hope in her expression that pulled at him like a magnet. He reached over and held her hand, and she leaned forward in his direction, gripping his with the same pressure.

Filipe moved closer to her. “How about we leave the business conversation for another day?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and her eyes softened. “What do you propose we talk about then? We still have some time before Lucas returns.”

Filipe traced a slow circle with his thumb on the back of her hand. “We definitely should make good use of it. And not just with talk.”

Celeste chuckled lightly even as a soft blush colored her cheeks.

“But first I need to tell you. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you told me on Saturday. Because I left right after Eduardo’s accident, I didn’t know a drunk driver caused it. I’ve been carrying this guilt”—he touched the middle of his chest—“for what I believed was my fault. I left you and tried to forget about you, about us. All these years, Celeste.” Filipe swallowed hard, warring with so many emotions. “So much wasted time. I hope you can forgive me.”

Celeste lifted a hand and touched the side of his face. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

Filipe caught her fingers and brushed her knuckles with his lips, then leaned in and kissed her. Gently. Fully. Completely.

When Celeste returned his kiss, his heart righted itself.

This was what he’d been missing for so long—Celeste in his life.