Page 126 of Painting Celia

He saw Celia’s glacial eyes pushing him backward, felt his hoodie hitting his chest. “I don’t think she’ll talk to me again.” He stifled a catch in his throat. “I can’t paint without her. I lost her and my art on the same day.”

Sadly, his mother shook her head. “You gave them up, I think.” She gave his shoulders another squeeze as he grew still and sullen beside her. “You had her and your art, but you demanded more until you have neither. It’s not better this way, is it?”

“It was important, Mama,” he growled. “To me, at least.”

She stroked his head, trying to soothe. “We always encouraged you to be honest and fight for what you want, but you can’t win everything.” When he couldn’t disguise a sniffle, she patted his shoulder. “Why not accept what she will give you?”

“Hide how I truly feel just so she’ll take me back? No.”

“Not hide, but change. Don’t demand she feel as you want, be happy she gives you everything she can.” He snorted, dubious. “Do you demand money from a poor man? Or can you feel blessed he gave you a humble thing he can afford?”

León sat up. “That’s not the same!”

“It is the same,” she said gently. “She gave, and you said it was not enough. I would tell you to leave too. Instead of telling her, ‘I want everything,’ you say, ‘I want everything you will give freely.’ That shows respect, lolo.”

“She knows I respect her.”

“Does she? You rejected her gift.”

“She rejected mine!” León felt the wildness inside start to crest. He wouldn’t be able to control it if it got much closer to the surface.

His mother sighed. “Ah, mi lolo, you always demand the moon. Maybe we should have talked less of fighting and shown you how to sacrifice. You need both.” She smoothed his hair again to remove the sting of her words. “Can you apologize?”

“No.” She’d had it with his apologies. She’d finally called him on it. If she didn’t agree that they belonged together, what could he do?

His mother clucked her tongue. “León, mijo, te amo. I wish I could give you something to make you happy.”

León’s shoulders trembled as he leaned into her again. “She loves me too,” he said haltingly. “I know it.”

“Yes, she was very giving to you. That’s a way to show love.” She turned to him. “You could go now and be giving to her, give her patience and respect and maybe a little more silence.” She chucked him under the chin, and he ducked his head.

“I doubt she’d even see me.”

“You’ll have to ask,” she said. “Some girls will give you twice what you give them. Give her something. See what she’ll do.”

“She’s not a girl. She’s a woman. Older than me. Not much,” he quickly said as his mother’s eyebrows lifted. “She has her own life, she doesn’t need anything from me. I don’t know what to give her.”

“Give her your time, then. Help her with what she wants because she is important to you. Find joy in her joy. Why not try? This is no way to live, Leónito.”

She smiled. He had to smile weakly back. He leaned in for a hug, which she gave him, stroking his back as she had when he was a child. The music quieted, the album coming to an end.

In the hallway behind them, the front door sounded. León’s father had returned.

Muffled against her shoulder, León spoke softly. “She does love me, Mama.”

“Of course, she loves you, lolo. Who wouldn’t?”

He got up off the couch, averting reddened eyes as he passed his father. He headed for the kitchen, a little hungry for a change. His parents’ hushed words in the living room came through the doorway.

“So, what’s the girl like, mi vida?”

“Sensible. And she cooks.”

•••

Kelsey texted Celia without warning. “I’m pulling up. Got some news.”

Celia gritted her teeth. First Andrew, and now Kelsey? She was busy! She heard knocking at the door before she’d even set her phone down.

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