Chapter 37
It had been three years since Celia stood at the edge of land and watched waves roll up on the shore. She had missed out on seeing the beach in North Carolina. She wasn’t going to miss out on seeing the beach in Massachusetts, and today looked like a perfect day for it—warm and clear for the end of January.
She texted Manny, knowing it was his day off. “Would you like to go see a lighthouse today?”
He responded almost immediately. “Yes. I’ll be over in a minute.”
She bundled up Benjamin in the coat Isobella had given him, which he’d only used once on the way home from the hospital. He looked so much larger in it than he had on the day they brought him home from the hospital. What a difference a couple of weeks could make for a baby. Already he seemed three times as strong. She, on the other hand, still got worn out just walking up the stairs to her bedroom.
Manny met her at the front door. The black eye André gave him was fading, but he still had to wear a brace around his chest for his broken rib. She had been so angry about the fight that she’d filled out all the paperwork for a protective order and delivered a copy to The Praia Club.
Even worse than the thought of André hurting Manny again was the thought that André wanted to see Benjamin. She’d taken to calling Manny or Tiago whenever she had to take Benjamin out of the house.
Today, despite the fact that his ribs were still healing, Manny carried the baby to the bus stop. By the time they got there, the little guy was fast asleep.
After they got on the bus and found a seat together, Manny offered her his free hand. That was his way. He wouldn’t force her into anything.
She slipped her hand into his and smiled. It felt so normal, as if they were already the family she’d always meant to have. If only she’d never doubted Manny’s devotion, she could have avoided so much pain.
But she pushed her regrets back. That was the past.
Now, for the first time since coming to America, she saw herself as someone who had a right to pursue happiness. She’d always felt this way when she and Manny were younger, when everyone loved her for just being herself. Back then, she felt worthy of everything the world had to offer. She closed her eyes and inhaled, wishing it could be like this always. And why shouldn’t it? There were people back on the islands who were just as happy as any American she’d met. Why not be happy here too, where blessings were available at every turn, just as long as you could figure out how to earn them?
∞∞∞
Benjamin was still asleep in Manny’s arms when they arrived at the coast, and Manny would have loved to just stay on the bus, holding him until he woke, but Celia got out her fabric band. Then she tied the knots and strapped Benjamin to her chest as if she’d been a mother for years. “This way, he’ll stay warm,” she said.
She was right, of course.
She pointed to a lighthouse they were approaching. “Let’s stop there.”
Manny pulled the cord to tell the driver they wanted to stop, and within a few seconds, the bus exhaled, opening its doors to the salty air.
For a warm day in January, it was still very cold, and the wind coming off the water scraped them with its icy fingers. There was no sand here. It was all rounded gray and brown rocks. Birds flew overhead, squawking, as the waves lapped against the shore in a constant rhythm.
Celia leaned against him as they looked out at the lighthouse. This one didn’t look like the typical lighthouse he’d seen in pictures. The bottom part was painted all white—no stripes—and it seemed shorter.
Beyond it, the steel gray waters stretched out, blending with the cloudy sky. “This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen in America.” He gazed up at the birds flying overhead. “I was beginning to wonder if everything was overcrowded and covered in cement here in America. I visited a park in Boston once that was beautiful, but its beauty only went so far. Right outside of it, there was more city.”
“You just haven’t explored enough,” Celia said. “America has a lot of variety. In North Carolina, there are green lawns and towering trees. Here, there are pretty parks and gardens. Maybe you and I could visit some new places together.”
“I’d like that.” He took her hand in his as they walked on the rocks that lined the shore. “I can’t picture myself always living in the city . . . or working at a convenience store.”
“Would you like to teach again?” she asked, admiration in her eyes. It’d been a long time since he’d felt that kind of respect.
“I did the math, and I think we make more money from our online business than I could as a teacher.”
Celia stopped and stared at him. “Really?”
He chuckled, remembering the two checks he’d given her. They could have paid a month’s rent on his apartment, and there was more coming from Christmas sales. “Did you even look at those checks?”
She pulled a thick stack of folded checks from her pocket. “I’m saving them up to get a place for Benjamin and me.”
She handed him the stack, and he leafed through the papers. “I’ll help you deposit them in the bank. If you wait too long, they’re worth nothing.” He went on, explaining about banks, and as they talked, he remembered that André had never let her keep more than a few dollars.
He had promised to start over with Celia, as if they were strangers, but he didn’t feel at all like they were starting over. He just had to help her see that, despite all her scars, she was still the same person he’d known back in Cape Verde. What they needed was a game. He scanned the ground in front of him. Here and there, bits of driftwood lay scattered, along with a plastic water bottle and a plastic bag. “How about we make a couple of kites? You make one. I’ll make the other. Then we’ll see whose is better.”
She wrinkled her nose, probably embarrassed to be playing a child’s game here in America when they were both grown adults, but soon her smile broke through. She never could resist the urge to create things. “One, two, three. Go.”
They walked along, scanning the rocks for materials. Manny was the first to find a plastic bag among the rocks. Knowing that Celia would likely beat him at this game, he would take any advantage he could get.
He walked around until he found a length of fishing line and began tying it to his bag. Meanwhile, Celia walked back to the street, returning with a few sticks, a cardboard box, a black garbage bag, and a roll of duct tape. “I borrowed the tape and the garbage bag from a man who lives over that way,” she said. “You didn’t say we had to use trash.”
She was right. He hadn’t explained that rule. “Do you suppose he’d let me borrow something?”
She shook her head, laughing. “He promised he’d stay on my side.” This was the Celia he remembered—confident, competitive, and happy.
He supposed he might as well proceed with his original plan. Trying his best to run into the wind, despite the rocky surface and the pain in his ribs, he dragged his plastic-bag kite behind him. There were a few holes in it, but he managed to get enough lift to send it up in the air a meter or so over his head.
Celia watched from where she sat on a boulder, sorting through pieces of driftwood. “That works pretty well.”
He couldn’t get his kite to stay up without running ahead of it, though, so he came to sit beside Celia on the boulder. “You want some help?”
“Sure.” She handed him two sticks that she held together in a v-shape. “Hold this tight.” She then wrapped the joint with duct tape. Manny helped her find a couple more sticks, and they taped those together to form a diamond-shaped frame with another stick cutting through the center. While she covered it with the black garbage bag, he found another length of fishing line and attached it to the frame.
Once it was finished, she examined it at arm’s length. “Do you think it will work?”
“Try it,” he said.
Holding the kite above her head with one hand and the end of the line in the other, she walked along the rocky shore, her hair whipping in the wind. Letting go, she continued walking as the kite rose behind her. Up one meter. Then two and three. “This fishing line is cutting my hands, Manny,” she yelled as he kept pace behind her.
“Drop it if you want, then. You’ve already won.” Why wasn’t she wearing gloves? Didn’t she own a pair?
“You helped me make it, so we both won.” She stood still, letting the line out little by little as the kite rose higher and higher. “I can’t stand to let go.”
Manny picked up a piece of driftwood and helped her wind the fishing line around it. Then holding the line for her, he offered her his gloves. “Go ahead and take them. I can get another pair at the convenience store when I get to work. They’re pink anyway, and I just learned that’s not the best color for a man to wear.”
Unlike Flora, who would have laughed about his pink gloves, Celia slipped the gloves onto her hands with a smile. “Thank you.” With the baby still tied to her front, she gave him a hug, just like the ones she’d given him back on the island. Only, out here on the wind-blown shore, the hug brought him extra warmth.
“Do you suppose this wind has blown all the way from Cape Verde, and we’re breathing the same air that rustled the leaves of a mango tree on Fogo Island?” She asked, still holding onto him. “Or that the Cape Verdean fishermen have dipped their lines in this water?”
He didn’t dare move. “So, when we stand here by the ocean, we’re closer to the land and the people we love? I like that thought. It’s better than thinking of the ocean as a barrier, separating our old home from our new home.”
She squeezed him tighter. “I’m glad you are here on this side.”
“I am too.” With Celia he finally felt undivided, as if both his worlds had melded into one. It didn’t matter where they lived. Together, new and old didn’t exist. Home was right here, right now.