9. Celeste #4
By late afternoon, Rosehaven had shifted into its evening pace.
The television volume had gone up in the common room.
Dinner trays rattled down the hall. Nurses moved with practiced urgency, answering call buttons, adjusting blankets, calling residents by name.
I stayed longer than I had planned, partly because Mrs. Alberta demanded a rematch, partly because Ms. Ruthie wanted help writing a birthday card to her grandson, and partly because going home meant facing the questions I had tucked into the corners of my morning.
Josiah and Juice left sometime before dinner.
I saw them near the front doors while I was helping Mr. Clarence sort his cards back into the box.
Josiah’s grandfather sat between them, his blanket straight, his chin lifted, his eyes sharp beneath silver brows.
Juice bent to kiss his forehead and got fussed at for being dramatic.
Josiah hugged him with one arm, careful of the wheelchair, and the old man gripped the back of his neck for a long second.
Something passed between them.
A blessing maybe.
A warning.
A memory with no words attached.
Then Josiah rose, and for one suspended breath, his eyes found mine across the room.
My hand tightened around the Uno box.
He didn’t wave. Didn’t call my name. Didn’t make the room part around whatever had been growing between us since fajitas and truth. He simply looked at me, held my gaze long enough for my pulse to remember last night, then gave the smallest nod.
Respectful.
Aware.
Dangerous as hell.
I looked down first because Mrs. Alberta was already watching me with the smug righteousness of a woman who had found fresh gossip and planned to season it later.
By the time I signed out, I was tired in every place that mattered.
I was reaching into my tote for my keys when Tasha came from behind the desk with another woman beside her, a security aide named Marlene, who worked evenings and wore purple glasses with rhinestones on the corners.
“Ms. Celeste,” Tasha said.
I looked up. “Yes?”
Marlene smiled. “I’m going to walk you to your car.”
“Oh, baby, I’m fine. I’ve been coming here forever.”
“I know,” she said. “But I was asked to make sure you get there safely.”
I stilled.
Tasha’s smile turned knowing, but she kept her voice professional. “The gentleman who was here with his cousin and grandfather asked if someone could escort you out when you left. He also asked us to please make sure you let somebody know you made it home safely.”
Only one thought remained: Josiah had noticed.
He had noticed me staying and made provision without making a performance.
I looked toward the front windows, but he was long gone.
No truck waiting by the curb. No tall man leaning against a door with a smile that could undo my common sense.
Just evening light fading over the parking lot and my reflection in the glass, a widow with keys in her hand and her heart acting brand new.
Marlene tilted her head. “You ready, sweetheart?”
I nodded because my mouth had taken a small leave of absence.
We walked outside together. The air smelled like warm pavement, cut grass, and rain gathering somewhere beyond the clouds.
Marlene stayed beside me, talking about her granddaughter’s spelling bee, but my mind remained with the man who hadn’t touched me, hadn’t crowded me, hadn’t interrupted my day, yet somehow managed to make me feel covered from a distance.
That was worse than flirting.
Flirting made a woman smile.
Consideration made her reconsider every wall.
At my car, Marlene waited while I unlocked the door and placed my tote on the passenger seat. “You got somebody to text?”
I thought of my children first. Then, against my will, I thought of Josiah.
“I do.”
“Good. Send it before you pull off.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She laughed. “Look at you listening.”
“I have children. I understand consequences.”
When she walked back toward the building, I stood beside my car for a moment and looked up.
The sky had opened into streaks of violet, rose, and gold, colors layered so beautifully it almost felt disrespectful to be confused beneath them.
I couldn’t see Heaven, but I had spent enough years talking to God to know He didn’t need to be visible to be present.
I lifted my eyes and let out a breath that shook on the way out.
“Okay, God,” I whispered. A smile caught me before I could stop it. “Or Big G, as Josiah calls You.” I laughed under my breath, wiping quickly beneath one eye before the tear could get bold.
“But I’m gonna need a little more convincing.”
The smile stayed with me as I climbed into the car, locked the doors, and pulled out my phone. I texted JJ first, then Kayden.
Made it to the car. Heading home now.
Kayden replied before I could put the phone down.
Thank you.
Two words.
A boy trying.
A mother learning.
I started the engine and looked once more at Rosehaven glowing behind me.
I pulled out of the parking lot with one small, terrifying truth blooming beneath my ribs.
Maybe moving forward didn’t mean leaving love behind.
Maybe some roots were strong enough to hold memory and still make room for something new to grow.