“Cleaning lady?”
“Yeah, Gladys is a nice older lady and sometimes she brings me a home cooked meals.”
“And you show your thanks with flowers?”
“She works really hard cleaning up after my lazy ass, so it’s a small expression of my appreciation.”
Belen examined my features in silence for a long while. Her eyes were like a high beam looking for defects. “You’re a nice guy, Kris.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I do. You made sure I got home safe. And you were so sweet to my sister.”
“I was just trying to be helpful.” I shrugged off her words. “Plus, your sister is a sweetheart.”
“She enjoyed meeting you. I try to limit the number of men who cross my threshold.”
“Why is that?”
“Because Celeste gets attached to people quickly. And I don’t need her heart being broken when that person stops coming around.”
“Makes sense that you’d want to protect her.”
“Yeah, it’s my role as the big sister to look out for her. And her situation makes that all the more important.”
“How old is Celeste?”
“She’s thirty.” Belen’s response was interwoven with an unspoken current of emotion.
“Down syndrome?”
“Yes.”
“While she and I were cooking, she was very talkative. She told me about her job at a coffee shop. Sounds like she really enjoys it.”
“She loves it there. And the regulars are so friendly and sweet to her. I’ll admit I was a bit apprehensive about her working outside of the learning center she attends. But looks like the joke was on me. She’s only been working there for a few months and she’s thriving.”
“I think that at our core we are all the same. We all want connection and a sense of purpose. And it sounds like this job provides Celeste with both.”
“Do you want the blueberries?” She pointed to the assorted berries she’d removed from her muffin.
“If you don’t like blueberries why get a blueberry muffin?”
“Because I hate blueberries, but I love blueberry muffins.”
I nicked a berry from the napkin. “You know that makes absolutely no sense, right?”
“It just tastes better, okay.”
I looked around to make sure we were alone. There was the distant sound of an electric drill and knocking from a hammer, but not a soul in sight. “So … we kissed last night,” I whispered.
“Mmmh, we did.” She pulled off the top of her muffin, taking a bite.
“Why do you think we did that?”
“I don’t know. Do we need a reason?”
“Yeah.” I angled my body so that I could get a better look at her. “For me it’s because you’re pretty, and you smell good, and I enjoy talking to you.” I paused, hoping she would tell me she thought I was handsome and funny and a good kisser and that she wanted to see what else I was good at.
