Chapter 34
Manny had never thought a man could survive in such cold weather. The wind bit through him with its icy teeth, and he could tell even before he got home from work that the electricity would be out. Everything was pitch black, and the only way he managed to maneuver around the fallen branches and trees was because of the lights from passing cars.
When he arrived at their apartment, however, it wasn’t as silent or dark as he expected. A honey-colored glow shone from under the door, and he could hear the cry of a baby. After checking to make sure he’d entered the right apartment building, he put his key in the lock and turned the knob.
There, sitting at the table next to an oil lamp, was Flora, and she held a crying baby. Benjamin.
Flora stood to show the baby to Manny. “Isn’t he the cutest thing?”
He gazed down into the baby’s sparkling brown eyes. Thankfully, except for his light skin, he didn’t look at all like André. “He’s a handsome little man.”
Flora bounced the baby a little as he continued fussing. “The storm started up while Celia was visiting, and the power went out at Theo’s house, so Mama told her to spend the night here. Then the power went out here.”
Manny pulled off his coat and gloves, though it wasn’t much warmer inside the apartment. “Let me wash my hands, and I’ll take a turn.” With the heat off, that baby was probably as cold as he was, and he needed to find a way to warm him up. He plunged his hands into the water that came almost freezing from the faucet. Despite the pain, he washed them well, and dried them.
His jacket and shirt were wet from snow, so he took both of them off and wrapped a blanket around himself. Then he lifted Benjamin from Flora’s arms and held him against his chest. It had been way too long since Manny had held a baby. The last baby he’d held was Celia’s little sister, who died. Since then, he had grown at least a foot, and he was surprised at how small Benjamin felt, about the size of a sack of flour. Benjamin wriggled, rubbing his face back and forth against Manny’s chest, but Manny held him tight and secure until he settled in against him.
Manny rubbed Benjamin’s back as he adjusted the tiny knit hat on top of his head. “He’s beautiful.” Something fell inside him, almost as if he were staring at Celia’s wedding photo once again, and he bit his lip. This baby could have been his. If things had been different, he and Celia could be married now and living here together.
Flora yawned. “Chris and I broke up today.”
Manny turned the wick down on the kerosene lamp, wondering what she meant. “Who’s Chris?”
She groaned and rolled her eyes as she sat down on the sofa, pulling his blankets over herself. “Only my boyfriend, Manny. The guy I’ve been in love with since the first day of high school.”
He’d just sat down at the kitchen table, but he moved to the sofa, placing one arm around Flora’s shoulders. “I know how that feels. I’m sorry.”
“He wanted me to help him cheat on a math test. I’ve done it before for him, but this time, I decided I wasn’t helping him by letting him cheat. I told him he needed to do the work himself. He didn’t want me after that.” She let the tears roll down her cheeks without wiping them away. It was a quieter, more dignified cry than he’d ever witnessed from her. “Do you think anyone will ever love me the way they talk about in the movies, where people fall in love forever?” she asked.
He pulled her in tighter with his free arm. “Mama and I do.”
“I’m not talking about you and Mama,” she said, pushing away from him. “I’m talking about a man who’s not related to me.”
He placed a kiss on her forehead. “There’s no doubt in my mind that a man who’s not related to you could love you.” For all the trouble she’d caused him, all he could think of now was the way she’d refused to cheat on a test, the way she was helping Celia, and the way she managed their online sales. She was becoming the honest, compassionate woman he’d always imagined she would become.
She sniffled and wiped away the tears. “Mind if I sleep here tonight?” Celia must have been sleeping on her side of the bed.
“No. Go ahead.” He hummed as the baby’s breaths slowed, coming in sync with his own. “How long has it been since he ate?”
Flora yawned, spreading the blankets over the three of them. “Maybe a half hour ago.”
That, at least was good. Perhaps Celia could get some sleep.
Manny listened to Flora and Benjamin breathing as they fell asleep. He must have drifted asleep some time shortly after that because the next thing he knew, the electric lights came back on, and a warmth flooded over his chest.
The baby was wet. And so was the blanket he had wrapped around himself.
Trying not to wake Flora, he slipped out from under the covers, threw off the blanket and went in search of the baby’s things. Down the hallway, the heater hummed back to life. It was still cold, though, especially now that he didn’t have a blanket to wrap around his bare upper-half.
After looking all over the apartment, he found Celia’s bag where it sat under the kitchen table. It was a tote bag his mother had made back on Fogo. He recognized the blue and green fabric with fish swimming through it. His mother had bought an entire bolt of the fabric, and he had spent endless days cutting pieces out of it. But how did it still look so bright and new? It had to be at least eight years old. As he lifted the handle, he saw the tiny stitches where it had been repaired, and as he opened it, he noticed that the zipper was a bright yellow. His mother had never used bright yellow zippers. Celia must have gone to the trouble of replacing it.
At the top of the bag, he found a disposable diaper, along with some wipes. All he knew of these modern conveniences was what he’d learned selling them to mothers at the convenience store, which wasn’t much.
He fumbled with the diaper, laying it out on the table as the baby began to fuss again. Not wanting to wake Celia, he swayed back and forth as he pulled off the baby’s clothes.
He sang the first song that came to mind—the one about a doll named Pim—but the baby continued to fuss, so he sang another about the perfume of the flowers. That one seemed to work better. The baby quieted, and Manny laid him down on the table top, trying to figure out how to extricate him from the wet diaper. Pulling on it didn’t work. He had to rip the thing off at the sides. “Silly American diapers,” Manny sang. “Silly, silly American diapers.”
Opening the wipe container was easier, but the wipes were laced with ice crystals. He couldn’t use them on the baby that way. He was contemplating what to do when a tiny fountain erupted from the baby, spraying warm pee across his chest.
He blocked the stream with the diaper, but it was too late. He had to run to the sink to wash himself off.
After drying himself off, he hurried to put on the diaper, singing as he worked. He was probably putting it on backwards, and he couldn’t figure out how to fasten it, but he didn’t want to wake Celia. “If the dove is happy in her nest, I am too,” he sang.
On the next line, another voice joined him. “Under the caresses of this sweet-scented you.” It was Celia’s voice.
Manny closed his eyes. Was he dreaming? Her voice was just as it had been so long ago. Clear and strong.
He held his breath. If he dared look at her, she might disappear.
Her hands reached across his to help with the diaper. The same hands that had helped him wash clothes in the round metal washtub back on Fogo. The same hands that helped scatter grain for his chickens and carry water from the pump. These were the hands he held so long ago beneath the mango tree.
From the tote bag, she pulled out a tiny garment with endless rows of snaps and, still singing, slipped the baby into it as if she’d done it hundreds of times already.
“Thank you, Manny,” she said when the song ended.
He darted a glance her way, and she met his eyes, smiling wide enough to show her missing tooth. Then she handed him a blanket, and he hurried to wrap it around himself.
Had she heard about his new understanding with Della?
The baby wailed, and Celia laughed. “He’s hungry.”
Together, they sang as she nursed the baby on the sofa, and he heated milk on the stove for their breakfast. They sang of freedom and love. Songs of the waves on the sea. Songs of loneliness and longing for home. They went on until Flora groaned and placed a pillow over her head.
“Sorry, Flora,” Celia said, patting her back with one hand. “It just felt good to sing. All my worries left me.”
“Don’t worry about her,” Manny said, laughing. “She needs to wake up for school.” He looked down at the clock. “I’m going to go take a shower. We’ll sing some more when I come back.” He hurried off to the bathroom.
When he returned clean and dressed in his work clothes, both Flora and Celia sat at the table with their cups of warm milk, the baby asleep in Celia’s arms. “Do you remember when you taught Manny to ride that bicycle?” Flora asked.
She meant Fernando’s bicycle. Fernando was the only one in the village who’d ever had a bicycle. It was a rusty old thing with tires that constantly went flat, and all the kids took turns learning to ride. Celia had learned before Manny did, and he’d begged her to teach him.
Flora gulped down the rest of her milk before giggling. “He must have fallen off about a thousand times.”
Manny could still feel the burn of the scrapes along his palms and on his knees.
Celia shook her head. “Why I ever thought it was a good idea for him to learn on the steepest hill in town, I don’t know. I’m sorry about that, Manny.”
“You were a good teacher,” Manny said, setting out a loaf of bread for them to eat. “I learned fast that way.”
Flora threw back her head and laughed. “If there’s anyone who likes to learn fast, it’s Manny.”
Celia and Manny exchanged a look, the same kind of look they would have given each other as children when Flora cheated at mancala. “Speaking of learning,” he said, “isn’t it time for you to leave for school, Flora?” She was still in her pajamas.
Flora grabbed a slice of bread from the plate in the center of the table. “I’m going to stay home and help Celia with her crafts today. Besides, school is probably canceled.”
He checked his phone for any notifications from the school, but before he could figure it out, his mother walked in from the bedroom, all dressed for work. “School is on schedule, Flora. We’d better get going.” She was already wearing her coat, but she layered on a couple of scarves over it. “Come on, get dressed. I don’t want you getting another tardy. Besides, if Chris sees you’re not there, he’ll think you’re suffering more from the break-up than he is.”
That got her hopping up and heading for the bathroom. “Okay. Just give me a minute. I want to look good.”
“I’ll be happy to help Celia with her crafts,” Manny called after Flora. He darted a glance at Celia, who gave him a shy smile. “That is, if you don’t mind a clumsy man’s help.”
“I would love a clumsy man’s help. Do you mind holding Benjamin?” Without even waiting for a reply, she transferred the sleeping baby into his arms.
In the bright light of morning, Manny traced the soft dimple in Benjamin’s chin and the tiny hairs on the edge of his ears.
Celia pulled bags of red, gold, and white beads from her bag, along with some pliers and wire cutters. “People have been ordering a lot of my Valentine’s earrings. I need to make thirty or forty a day just to keep up.”
Valentine’s Day was the February holiday here, not Carnival. He supposed it was like the Brazilian Day for Lovers, at least that’s what he gathered from the merchandise at the convenience store. They had stocked Valentine’s candy, perfume, and cards. He had told himself that by the time Valentine’s Day arrived, Celia would be his girlfriend, and he could buy her a heart-shaped box of chocolates.
He’d made progress with Celia today, talking face to face, but it wasn’t enough.
She showed him the three different styles of earrings she’d made, each one unlike anything else he’d seen in America. One reminded him of an exotic bird’s tail with the beads forming feathery dangles. The second earring was in a heart shape, and the third looked like glittering fireworks. “They’re sort of a mix-up of Valentine’s Day and Carnival,” she explained.
He took an earring and held it up to the light. “You always were good at creating beautiful things.”
“I was?”
“Don’t you remember all the paper flowers you sold to tourists?” He’d sat for hours watching her cut out the petals, color them, and curl them into the proper shapes. He hadn’t dared to help her, fearing he might make a mess of things. “Or the way you decorated the walls in your mother’s home with pictures from a magazine? Or the necklace you made for Flora?”
She strung a few beads on a wire. “I always have loved to make things.”
“And I always loved to watch you make things.” Did he dare to say it? He had to tell her how he felt about her. He couldn’t waste any more time. “Things haven’t changed so much.”
Celia shook her head. “Oh, yes they have, Manny. Everything has changed.”
She went on stringing beads as he thought about what she’d said. He had gone to school, and she had been married. Now she had a child, and they lived in a different place. But they were still the same people under it all. “I haven’t changed that much, and I don’t think you have either, not deep down. You’re still a woman with folk songs on the tip of her tongue. I’ve always loved that about you.”
She grabbed the pliers and twisted some wires into shape, avoiding his gaze. “André changed me, Manny. I should never have married him.”
As if he could feel the tension in Manny’s heart, Benjamin let out a wail, and Manny brought him up to his shoulder, patting his back. “But that’s in the past now. You can’t let him ruin the rest of your life. Give me the chance to make you happy, to walk alongside you, the way we always planned. It’s not too late to live the life of our dreams together.”
Her beads clattered onto the table as she lifted her gaze to his, but instead of joy and hope in her eyes, he saw only despair.