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“It wasn’t a cake,” I say. “It was a muffin, a raisin-bran muffin.”
He laughs even harder at that, and I don’t know why, but what becomes clear is that he’s laughing with me. Suddenly, I find myself laughing, too, laughing at a raisin-bran muffin without even knowing why.
After dinner, Juan Manuel starts clearing the dishes.
“No,” I say. “You were very kind to serve dinner. I’ll clean up.”
“Not fair,” he replies. “You think you’re the only one who likes to clean? Why do you take away my joy?”
He smiles again in that way of his, and he grabs Gran’s apron from behind the kitchen door. It’s blue-and-pink paisley with flowers, but he doesn’t seem to care. He loops it over his head and hums to himself ashe ties the string. I haven’t seen that apron on anyone in so long; even Gran herself was too ill to use it in her final months. And to see it become three-dimensional, to see a body give it shape again…I don’t know why, but it makes me look away.
I turn to the table and gather the remaining dishes as Juan Manuel prepares the sink with soapy water.
Together, we make quick progress on the mess, and in just a few minutes, the entire kitchen is perfectly gleaming.
“See?” he says. “I’ve worked in kitchens all my life—big ones, small ones, family ones—and at the end of the day to see a clean counter makes the heart jump with joy.”
“Jumpforjoy?” I say.
“Ah yes. Jump for joy.”
I look at him in the glow of Gran’s candle, and it’s as if I’ve never really looked properly. I’ve seen this man every day at work for months on end, and now, suddenly, he is more handsome than I’ve ever noticed before.
“Do you ever feel invisible?” I ask. “At work, I mean. Do you ever feel like people don’t see you?”
He’s taking off Gran’s apron, replacing it on the hook by the door.
“Yes, of course,” he says. “I’m used to this feeling. I know what it’s like to be completely invisible, to feel alone in a strange world. To be afraid for the future.”
“It must have been terrible for you,” I say. “To be forced to help Rodney even though you knew it was a bad thing to do.”
“Sometimes, you must do one thing bad to do another thing good. It’s not always so clear, so black and white like everyone thinks. Especially when you don’t have choices.”
Yes. He’s absolutely right.
“Tell me something, Juan Manuel,” I say. “Do you like puzzles? Jigsaw puzzles?”
“Do I like them? Ilovethem.”
Just then, there’s a knock at the door. I feel my stomach sink and find my legs are glued to the floor.
“Molly, can we open?…Molly?”
“Yes, of course,” I say.
I force my legs to move. We both reach the door. I unlock and openit.
Charlotte and Mr. Preston are standing there, and behind them, Detective Stark.
My knees weaken and I brace myself against the doorframe.
“It’s okay, Molly,” Mr. Preston says. “It’s okay.”
“The detective is here with good news,” Charlotte adds.
I hear the words, but I’m unable to move. Juan Manuel is at my side, keeping me upright. I hear a door open down the hall and the next thing I see is Mr. Rosso standing behind Detective Stark. It’s like a party at my front door.
“I knew it!” he yells. “I knew you were no good, Molly Gray. I saw you on the news! I want you out of this building, you hear me? Officer, get her out of here!”
