19. Celeste
Chapter 19
Celeste
I roll my eyes. “I think an eleven-year-old girl not used to your kind of luxuries might be a bit overwhelmed.”
He lowers his head, playing with the spoon in his coffee. “I keep fucking this up.”
Another rare moment of honest fragility from this man. And I don’t know how to take it. Because on the one hand, he’s confiding in me, thanking me for being a buffer between him and his child.
On the other hand, it’s quite clear he’d rather be anywhere but near me. I’m sure if it wasn’t for his hopelessness around Mia, we wouldn’t be sitting here. It stings, but again, I’m a big girl.
“You’re not fucking anything up. It’s new for both of you. You’ll figure it out.” I fold my arms across my chest and look outside.
This feels more like a forced meeting between two divorced parents. Bound by the need to discuss their offspring, but utterly uncomfortable spending time together.
I’ve only just met Mia, but shit, she deserves better.
“You seem to know what you’re doing.” His words ring like an accusation. Fuck him.
“She seems to like her makeup.” I address my words to the window, just like him.
I suggested a natural look for her, and to my surprise, she accepted. I had a feeling the goth style wasn’t a phase, but more a mask or a cry for attention.
“That’s definitely an improvement. You changed her from a ghost to a girl.” He taps his fingers on the table.
Where the hell is Mia? Without her around, the awkwardness between us grows.
“She asked why I’m staying in the guest bedroom?” I don’t even know why I’m sharing that with him. I guess anything to prevent the heavy silence from stretching.
“Shit. What did you tell her?”
“I told her we’re remodeling the master closet and bathroom, so I have my things in the guest room, and that I use it because you snore.”
“I don’t snore,” he scoffs.
Is he for real? That’s the fight he wants to pick. I abandon my resolution not to poke into things.
“I wouldn’t know, would I?” I quip, and he fixes his eyes on me.
We glare at each other, the air between us filled with the remnants of last night. What are we doing?
I sigh. “We should talk about last night.”
“I’m sorry I got carried away.” He looks away again, and I’m not sure if he’s talking about this conversation or last night. “You were right, sleeping together isn’t wise, given the terms of our arrangement. It won’t happen again.”
“Fine by me.” I spit the words, practically defying their meaning, but I can’t help it.
He looks at me, unimpressed, but before we can say—and regret—anything else, Mia returns.
She plops into her seat, her eyes darting between the two of us.
“Shall we order anything else?” Caleb asks, and she shrugs. He sighs and turns to me. “Do you have a rehearsal today?”
So, now we pretend to get along. It’s none of his business, but I remain civil. “No, I have the day off.”
And why does he care? I guess just making sure I won’t be around all day.
“Rehearsal?” Mia looks up, her eyes void of indifference for the first time.
“Celeste is a dancer,” Caleb says, and if I wasn’t annoyed by his behavior, I’d think there was a tinge of pride in his voice.
I whip my head to him. “Have you ever seen me dance?”
With his napkin, he wipes the corners of his mouth, then drops the linen on the table. “Yes, I have.” He rolls his eyes.
“A rehearsal at home doesn’t count,” I murmur, and turn to Mia. This bickering about inconsequential shit doesn’t make any sense. “I dance in an off-Broadway cabaret-like production. It’s a play about a burlesque dancer who falls in love with the club owner.”
“And it’s all just dancing?” Mia puts her arms on the table, leaning closer. “Like a ballet?”
“A contemporary dance, but in this one, we incorporate different dance styles to move the plot forward.”
“Wow, that’s so cool.”
“Maybe you can come when I’m back on stage.” I grin at her, enjoying how this girl finally unveiled a bit of herself.
“Maybe.” She shrugs, looking away as if she realized she had shown more warmth than she planned.
“Do you like dancing?” Caleb asks.
“I used to be in a hip-hop crew in school, but then… I quit.” She shrinks in her chair, hugging he rself around her midriff. “I’ll wait for you outside.” She springs up and disappears before we can react.
Caleb gestures for the bill. “And I thought we made some progress.”
I want to tell him to be patient, to let her open up on her own terms, but I’m not a parenting coach, and he doesn’t deserve my opinions.
We pay, then find Mia leaning against the wall, drawing circles with her foot like it’s the most riveting thing in the world.
“Would you like to go to the zoo ?” Caleb asks awkwardly.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not five.”
He rakes his hand through his hair, sighing.
Our lukewarm relationship is one thing, but I can’t watch the two of them falling out before they even have a chance to grow together.
Both clearly want—even if they don’t admit it—and need this connection. I look at Mia, and then at Caleb, and for the second time this morning, I decide to facilitate their bonding.
As uncomfortable as it may be to spend time with Mr. I-freaked-out-after-I-fucked-you.
“I have an idea, but it might not be available.” I hold up one finger, silently asking them to hold on a minute, already dialing my friend’s number .
Mia and Caleb look like they’re having the worst day in history while I make arrangements.
“We’re in luck. I booked us for therapy.”
They both glare at me, probably considering whether they can just leave me here and run away.
Mia throws a glass to the floor and immediately follows with several plates, stomping her feet over the shards.
In the other corner, Caleb swings a baseball bat to smash a mirror. I lunge, bringing the hammer down on a vase before I demolish the table it stood on.
Forty-five minutes later, we’re drenched in sweat and thoroughly relaxed, laughing.
At the front desk, we take selfies, get disgustingly sweet blue slushies, and hit the street.
“How do you even know about this place?” Mia slurps loudly through her straw.
“The owner used to work at a club where I danced, and then he opened these smashing rooms for corporate team buildings. He invited us to test it before the opening, and I’ve been coming here occasionally. It’s my form of therapy.”
“I don’t think training for a half-marathon helped me release this much stress. I’m fucking buying the place.” Caleb basketballs his cup into the garbage bin .
Mia’s eyes widen, and I laugh. “He’s probably not kidding.”
Smashing was the best therapy for me as well. Fuck his aloofness. Soon we’d both forget last night, and we’d learn to cohabitate.
The visit lifted the veil of hostile energy between us, like we seized the opportunity to exorcise our frustration.
My disappointment lingers, and so does Caleb’s distance, but somehow the fun exercise and Mia’s presence showed us we can put the night behind us.
Not that I’ve stopped thinking about it. His hands on my body, the reverence of his touch, the expert manhandling. The way he took care of me before he chased his own release.
Like my body had been waiting for him and came alive under his ministrations. Flashbacks of his fingers digging into my hips, him filling me to the hilt, the flickering lights of Manhattan, my breasts heavy in his hands… and his words.
Merde, his words. Show me that dancer body of yours, black swan.
Caleb’s phone rings. He glances at the screen and groans. “Sorry, I have to take it. Think about what you want for supper.” He winks at Mia and takes a few steps away before answering .
“This was fun. Thank you.” Mia swirls her straw through the crushed ice, watching the motion.
“We can come again.” I smile at her, even though she’s avoiding eye contact. Even though I can’t promise we will. “Or you can come to a rehearsal with me next time if you’d like.”
I understand this girl landed in my life by chance, and that her father probably doesn’t want me bonding with her, but I can’t help it.
She stops stirring, but doesn’t look up. “Okay.”
“Did you enjoy hip-hop?”
Maybe I’m pushy, but there was something behind the girl’s response earlier, and I know how hard it is to find a place in the world of dancing.
“I loved it,” she murmurs.
We sit on a bench by the small parkette while Caleb paces the sidewalk, arguing with someone.
“When I was little, much younger than you, I wanted to be a ballerina. I took classes, but I was too clumsy and big for the delicate dance. There were girls who used to laugh at me.”
“I’m good. We won a competition, but…” She fidgets, her shoulders slouching.
I worry she won’t continue, but I don’t want to make her more uncomfortable.
Caleb has his head down, listening to whoever’s got him all riled up .
After a moment she continues. “My group still competes and performs, but it costs money to travel and buy costumes and…” She stands and dunks her cup into the garbage bin.
“But you could afford it now. Caleb gave you a credit card, didn’t he?”
She spins around. “Yes, but I already use it for… Never mind. I don’t want him to cut me off because I overspend.”
“Oh, Mia, have you bought an airplane?” I decide to lighten the moment, because the tortured face of that little girl is breaking my heart.
She chuckles. “An airplane?”
“Don’t do that, but I’m sure you can put your dancing expenses on that card. It would make Caleb happy.”
“I don’t know. I heard him talking to his brother on the phone and telling him I only come to get his money, so I-I don’t want to…” She looks away, chewing on her bottom lip.
“Mia.” I sigh, wishing I could take some of the heaviness from her shoulders. “I know the two of you are just starting to find your way, getting to know each other, and unfortunately, a lot of people try to get money from your dad, so he sometimes assumes—”
“Sorry about that.” Caleb joins us .
“Is everything okay?” I ask, forgetting I don’t really want to talk to him.
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He turns to Mia. “So, where are we getting supper?”
Fuck him. “We’re thinking kebabs, but Mia wants to tell you something,” I decide to push my luck one more time.
“Do I?” Mia looks at me with horror.
“Do you?” Caleb asks, intrigued.
“Mia is joining her hip-hop crew again,” I announce.
Mia’s eyes flick to Caleb, who smiles. “That’s wonderful. I can’t wait to watch you dance.”
And for the first time since I’ve met Mia, a wide smile stretches across her face. I bask in her happiness for a moment, but when I turn to Caleb, I freeze.
He’s glaring at me.