Chapter 38
It was almost midnight, and the circles of dough sizzled in hot oil. Celia watched them crisp to a golden brown and then lifted them from the frying pan onto a plate, covering them with a kitchen towel. Out the kitchen window, she saw that a storm was blowing in, but the snow still hadn’t arrived. It was the perfect time to catch Manny as he got off work.
Holding the plate of donuts, she tiptoed through the front room, slipped into her coat, and checked to make sure Benjamin was still sleeping in Vicki’s arms on the sofa. She had asked Vicki and Flora earlier to watch the baby, but still she opened the door as quietly as possible and listened after she shut it to make sure she hadn’t woken him.
She faced the wind, walking as fast as she could while gripping the plate in her gloved hands. Manny had given her these gloves, and this would be her gift in return, one of his favorite treats from Cape Verde.
It was a Saturday night in the middle of winter. The streets were dark with only the occasional light from a street lamp or a passing car, and Celia kept to the shadows. She stopped at the intersection of two roads, where she had a clear view of the convenience store. Manny was still inside, chatting with the night worker.
She waited while he put on his coat and then walked out of the store, singing to himself.
After he crossed the street, she ran to catch him. “Manny!”
He stopped and turned toward her voice, squinting through the darkness, until she caught up.
He hugged her. “Celia. What are you doing out here? It’s not safe.” He sounded more worried than pleased.
“I think it’s safe for me now,” she said, linking arms with him as he turned to walk her home. “No one has seen André since the day you beat him up.”
“I keep telling you. He beat me up. I was the loser.”
Manny had always been too humble. “That’s what you say, but no one has seen him at The Praia Club or anywhere else since you hit him.” She held the plate out to him. “Have a donut. They’re my mama’s recipe.” He loved those donuts when they were kids. They were different from the American kind, smaller and not as sweet. “I made them just for you.”
He plucked a donut from the plate. “For me? Thank you.” He popped it into his mouth and ate as they walked. “That’s a nice coat you’re wearing.”
It was funny, him mentioning the coat, considering how he could barely see it in the dark. “Yeah, it is nice . . . but I despise it. André gave it to me.”
His response was a long time coming. “Why do you think that André gave it to you?”
“He left it on the front porch one day with a note that said For Celia. Then a few weeks later, he left something else on the porch and signed his name.” She didn’t want to say any more about André’s package, and how it included a picture of Manny with Della. She still wasn’t sure where they all stood. Della was a good woman, and even though she and Manny had broken up, Celia still worked at her daycare.
Manny took another donut. “That sure does make it sound like André left it. Funny thing, though, that he would give you a coat after I saw you walking every day to work in the cold, and that he should buy one in my favorite color.”
She snuggled up to him as he ate his second donut. She had never been happier to be wrong. “I’m beginning to like this coat a lot better.” She remembered hoping Manny left the coat, but had told herself it couldn’t be. How glad she was that her hopes, as dim as they were, could still come true in America.
Why hadn’t she allowed herself to believe Manny had given it to her? André would have never sacrificed like this. He didn’t care a thing for her safety, only his own convenience, although buying her a coat wouldn’t have been convenient for Manny either. He had probably gone without food to afford it.
That was his way, to put her needs above his own, just like she had put André’s needs above her own. That, she supposed, was the definition of love. It was a gift she had received from a few—her mother, Toon, Theo, Yvonne, Joana. But most of all, from Manny. She had always felt it from Manny.
But she hadn’t always put her own needs above Manny’s.
As the wind pushed against her, she recalled the piece of paper she once lost on Fogo Island, and then the phone call from someone who said she was Manny’s girlfriend. That familiar pang of regret tightened its grip. André had to have planned all that. “I’m sorry that I ever doubted you, Manny,” she said. “That phone call from the girl at college—”
“Promise me something?” He interrupted, his voice warm as a summer afternoon in North Carolina.
“Yes?”
He came closer, whispering into her hair. “If you ever wonder how I feel about you, you’ll ask me.”
It would have solved all of their problems if she could have just asked Manny how he felt. “I promise.”
“And I promise to do the same for you.”
She let his words hang between them. She would never have to guess where he’d been last night or who he’d spent time with. He would tell her.
He stopped and faced her, holding both her hands in his. “So . . . are you going to ask me?”
She didn’t have to ask, but she still wanted to hear it. “How do you feel about me today, Manny?”
He stepped closer to her, wrapping her in his arms. “The same way I felt about you yesterday and will feel about you tomorrow. I love you.”
She raised herself on tiptoe and pressed her lips toward Manny’s. Even with the icy wind howling around them, she could taste the mangoes and feel the sun beating down upon them.
She put everything she had into that kiss, hoping he could feel her apology for all the wasted years and her promise for years to come. She was ready to love him the way he deserved to be loved. Nothing could keep them apart now.
As they turned to walk back to Theo’s house, a faint melody sounded from inside Manny’s coat. “Your phone’s ringing,” she said.
He dug his phone out of his pocket. “Hello, Flora . . . Flora?” He came to a stop and stared at her, his mouth puckered and brow pinched. Could something be wrong with the baby? He had been fine when she left. He couldn’t be sick.
Straining to hear, she leaned closer to Manny.
“Call the police,” he said, his voice grating against the peaceful sound of the whistling wind, “as soon as you hang up. I’ll get Celia back there as fast as I can.”