Page 49 of The Fixer and the Fugitive

“I’m not certain they’ll see it that way, when the truth is revealed, but I’m also not certain I care,” Esther said. She hopped to her feet, started for the house, and stopped short. “But it’s almost night time, Celeste. Surely no minister will marry us on such short notice.”

“Leave it to me,” Celeste said, reaching for her phone. “I know a guy.”

“You’re not going to have to do a job in return for this favor are you? Because we can only cover up so many dead bodies in this part of Montana,” Esther said.

“Esther, please. I’m a professional. No one would ever find the body. Now go get your man. It’s time to get you married.” She made a little shooing motion toward the house and started to dial.

Chapter 24

In the end, Caldwell’s husband, Mitch, agreed to meet them at the church. And as long as he was satisfied that Leo and Esther were a proper couple, with a proper commitment to the vow they were about to undertake, he agreed to perform the ceremony. After a five-minute conversation, in which they distilled their lengthy and complex history, he happily agreed to marry them. Celeste stood as witness for Esther, and Sam stood as witness for Leo, a fact which amused them all, given how much of Leo’s life had been spent tracking terrorists, many of whom had worked directly with Sam.

It was so late by the time the ceremony was over that the diner was closed. Esther insisted on stopping by the market to pick up ingredients so she could make supper, despite Celeste’s attempts to deter her.

“Let her do it, she likes it,” Leo said, and that was how Celeste ended up sitting ringside while a bride prepared her own wedding feast of the best chicken salad Celeste had ever eaten.

“So you really just cook the chicken, cut it up, and add a few other ingredients,” Celeste said, awed. Esther didn’t use a recipe, of course, so Celeste was writing down everything she said, amishmash of shorthand with things like “probably a teaspoon of salt. Pepper if you want it, Leo doesn’t like it.”

“What did you think went into it?” Esther asked.

“Magic beans,” Celeste said. “I’ve honestly never seen a real person cook anything before. I’ve watched shows on TV, but the food is already prepped and then after they come back from commercial, it’s all ready, thereby furthering the illusion that it’s been done by secretive gnomes when no one was looking.”

“It’s very simple,” Esther assured her. “And usually the simplest food is best. A pot roast is literally a piece of meat in a pot with some salt on it, cooked until it’s tender. Mashed potatoes are boiled potatoes with salt, milk, and butter mixed in.”

“But how many potatoes? How much milk and butter? How do you know when they’re tender?”

“You’re overthinking it. Relax, trust your instincts.”

“I have no instincts.”

“You do because you know what tastes good, right?”

Celeste nodded.

“Then start there. Make a list of foods you like and practice making them until they taste right.”

“What if they’re garbage?” Celeste asked.

“Then get new ingredients and start again, taking care not to duplicate whatever you did wrong. Look at this chicken.” She stepped aside so Celeste could see the breasts she’d taken out of the oven. “This is what it looks like when it’s no longer raw. You have to check it near the end because overcooked chicken is awful. But so is raw chicken. It should look like this, with some juices still flowing. That’s how you know it’s going to be good.”

Celeste nodded, jotting notes like she was about to be graded. That was how she always felt, she realized, as if she was about to take a test for which she was wholly unprepared.

Leo was taking a shower and Sam sat at the table, head resting on his arm as he watched Celeste and Esther. During a lull while Esther shredded chicken, he caught Celeste’s eye and crooked his finger, drawing her over. When she was close enough, he pulled her into his lap and gave her a squeeze.

“I think you’re pretty cute,” he whispered.

“Have I been downgraded again?” she asked, resting her head on his chest. She tried to ignore how good it felt, this unexpected sense of belonging she felt with him.

“No, it’s an additional layer, cute on top of adorable. If you add one more, you’ll go atomic and be able to make people explode with the power of exponential cuteness.”

“Wow, you’re like a nuclear physicist or something.”

“Nah, I’m just an everyday guy who loves bombs enough to sell them to men trying to take over the world,” he said.

“Sort of an unsung hero,” she said.

“They’ll probably make a Marvel movie about me,” he agreed. “What with my tragic backstory.”

“But what is your super power?” she tilted her head to stare up at him.

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