Page 43 of Full Circle

Yet as I glanced back at my closed bedroom door where Celeste could finally sleep soundly in what had to be her worst nightmare, I couldn’t summon an ounce of remorse for my actions. Dear old dad would just have to deal.

CHAPTER 17

ROCK BOTTOM AIN’T A TRAVEL DESTINATION

CELESTE

Sitting up abruptly, it took me a moment to remember where I was. All the photographs looked different and it was probably the most comfortable mattress ever created. A cell phone I recognized as Wesley’s continued to ring out a shrill alarm until I hastily crawled across the bed to hit the button. Wes was nowhere that I could see, but that was just as well because I needed to get a handle on myself before I laid eyes on him again.

I meant every word of that promise to let him have all my firsts. Daddy and Nana would both say we were too young and shouldn’t be making such promises to each other, but they would be wrong. Young love didn’t cancel out true love, and what I felt for Wesley Madden was as true as the stars in the night sky.

My heart ached to share these feelings with Mama. It had been a long time since her ghost haunted me the way it was right now and I wondered yet again what she would have thought of Wes. His statement earlier of Mama sending him to me brought fresh tears because I could definitely see her doing something like that, then teasing me about not letting it go to my head because all her heavenly gifts couldn’t be as great as him.

More than anything, though, I yearned for one of Mama’s hugs as I spilled my heart over Daddy. If she got to pull strings up there, couldn’t she do me a solid and keep his health in check? I kinda needed at least one parent, after all. The thought of losing Daddy now wasn’t even worth entertaining. He had to get better.

Wesley was considerate enough to leave me a fresh change of clothes and I realized with crippling embarrassment that I never put my shirt back on to sleep. Memories of where his hands had roamed my body made my cheeks burn pink. And as much as I knew it would land me in trouble if any of the adults found out, I didn’t regret a single moment of it. I finally understood why Maggie wanted to read every article on tips and tricks for great sex she could get her hands on; I was just as eager to experiment with Wesley’s body as I was for him to explore my own.

The thing was, it didn’t feel sinful or wrong to share something so intimate with him. He made me feel beautiful, important, cherished, and what could possibly be bad about that? Nana would say that we had our whole lives to go down that road, but between the curveballs from both my parents’ health crises, it was pretty obvious to me that life could change in an instant. No point in prolonging a sure thing, in my opinion.

I dressed quickly, stopping in the bathroom to brush my teeth and tame my hair into a top knot. Wes still hadn’t reappeared, and although I knew he wouldn’t mind, I resisted the urge to poke through his drawers and inspect his shelves. The rumbling coming from my stomach reminded me that what little food I had consumed was thrown up hours ago, so I decided to head to the kitchen first.

Nana and Wesley were both sitting at the immense kitchen island before a platter of giant subs and bowl of cut up fruit. A Hispanic woman wearing an apron was on the other side of the island, rubber gloves up to her elbows as she washed dishes by hand in the wide sink. Wesley’s laugh echoed in the large space as I came around the corner.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” he teased me with a grin as I slid onto the barstool beside him.

I glanced at the woman washing dishes who was peering at me with a knowing smile before answering him. “Yeah, that nap was very much needed. Thank you.”

Wesley waved a hand towards the woman. “Celeste, this is Mrs. Aguilar. She’s our housekeeper.”

The woman’s smile widened. “Buenos dias, senorita,” she said.

I nodded to her with a shy smile. This was the woman who cooked all of Wesley’s meals and spent the most time with him as a child. She had the wherewithal to call Mobile Crisis when he freaked out over being sent to Montmeri, from what Wesley told me years ago.

“Hurry up and shove a sandwich down,” Nana ordered. “We need to get to the hospital. I wanna know what’s going on with your daddy.”

By the time I finished eating, there was a buzz at the door that Wesley said meant the driver was ready for us downstairs. This time the drive to the hospital had my stomach twisting in knots, making me clamp my mouth shut in case Mrs. Aguilar’s sub made a second appearance. My knee bounced from the restless energy the entire ride, and more than once Wesley placed a gentle hand over mine to urge me to calm down. It didn’t work, but I appreciated his efforts.

Nana actually looked worse. Her arms were firmly crossed under her chest and she faintly rocked back and forth in the front seat. She snapped at the driver twice to pick a faster lane, something that was very out of character for her. Both times she apologized to him afterwards and he assured her it was fine. He maintained the same detached composure as he had with Desiree, so it definitely had to be part of his job description.

Desiree was already back inside Daddy’s hospital suite when we arrived, wearing far more makeup than normal and a dress that bordered on indecent. While she typically wore dresses and skirts tighter than I thought comfortable, the black number she had on molded to every curve of her body and sported some serious cleavage. Maggie would die to get her hands on that kind of outfit.

“My, my. Look what the cat dragged in,” she mocked.

Nana settled into a leather armchair with a loud sigh. “Are we going to a dinner party after this, Desiree? That dress hardly seems appropriate.”

My stepmother flushed. “I think I have a far better grasp on what’s appropriate here, Suzanne.”

Willow swept into the room then, followed by Daddy in a wheelchair pushed by another hospital worker in scrubs. She began adjusting the blinds through the same tablet she had earlier, drawing down the lights so the room was much dimmer. Daddy was slumped over, his head propped up by one hand, and in much lower spirits than when we left him, if his grimace was any indication.

“Oh, Doug!” Desiree cooed, jumping up to fuss over him. “Don’t just stand there!” she barked at the employee behind the wheelchair. “Get him into bed!”

The worker scrambled to obey, hastily putting the brakes down on the chair and guiding Daddy up. He placed one arm against Daddy’s shoulder blades when he started to sway.

Willow turned toward Desiree with a frown, hesitating for a moment before she stated, “Ma’am, our staff has everything under control.”

Desiree snorted. “Hardly.”

She tucked the blankets around Daddy, snapping for the employee to grab another since the ones on his bed were too ragged. They looked more like a duvet than any other hospital blanket I’d ever seen.

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