Page 117 of Absolution

Christian actually looks slightly hurt. “I’m not a fucking—” He gives Cece a quick glance, “vegan!” He leans closer and whispers in my ear, making me shiver all over. “She said fuck the other day. I’m gonna have to watch my fucking mouth.” He leans away and grimaces and I can’t help but giggle.

“Okay, I’ll try your cooked weeds.”

We work surprisingly well together and soon everything that needs to be heated is in its right places and we’ve set the table beautifully with lit candles reflecting in the silverware. An egg clock starts beeping from the kitchen, but we stand a moment longer together, admiring the beauty we’ve created.

“I didn’t know you owned stuff like this,” I say.

“What? The antiques?”

I nod.

“I’m interested in all things pretty.” He nudges my shoulder with his.

I don’t look at him. My cheeks heat up and it isn’t from anger, or from all the candles. Or, possibly, it may be from the candles and I decide to blame them. I clear my throat. “Let’s eat.”

We find Cecilia – on the floor – with the cake.

“Ce!” I holler.

The cake is in molecules and what isn’t smeared on her lies all over the kitchen floor. I take a long step and pull her up.

“Oh, Christian, I’m so sorry! Ce, what have you done?”

“Don’t yell at her. There’re disasters and then there are disasters. Just clean her up and put on some new clothes and I’ll fix the rest here. When you come down, we’ll eat. If someone’s still hungry.” He winks at her as she happily sucks at her fingers, completely oblivious to the mess she’s caused.

“Cake! Yum.”

“Yes, yum,” I mutter and drag her off to clean up the little hooligan. I’m sure this is from his heritage, not mine.

When we come back down from the bathroom, Frank Sinatra is singing a soft slow melody. We talk about non-threatening things: with Cece, about Cece, about the food, about the almost-wintery day we had last week. I taste the cabbage on the edge of my fork. Cece ignores it completely.

“It’s… spicy. It’s funny… it doesn’t quite taste like a vegetable, more like meat, or a mix maybe.”

“You like it?”

“It isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Did you think I would eat anything that tasted less than fantastic?”

I frown and study him. “I don’t know if I know enough about you to judge”

He winks and smiles. “Sure you do. You just refuse to acknowledge it.”

“No, I don’t.”

He purses his lips as he wipes off Cece’s face. Then he glances up at me. “We’re gonna have to do something about that one of these days, aren’t we?”

My heart lurches from his gaze. I scoot back my chair and catch Cece before she touches anything. “Honey. A fork is a good tool for eating, you should try it.” I escape Christian’s presence for a few relieving moments while washing her hands, then I put her in front of Disney. Cute Disney. Christmas Disney.

“When Santa come?”

I caress her cheek. “Tomorrow. You’re gonna have to look out for him so he doesn’t get stuck in the chimney.”

“Tomorrow,” she concludes, and then she’s absorbed by Donald and Mickey, and some new characters I don’t recognize.

When I come back to the table Christian has lit more candles and has already put away most of the dirty plates. I find him in the kitchen where he’s stirring a small pot.

“Do you want me to do anything?”

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