The Pull of Destiny (67 page)

“Yes? Can I help you?” Aunt
Kelly asked crisply, her voice sounding like her nose was stuffed up.

Putting on my fake smile, I
said, “Hi, Mrs. Grant, my name is Luke Astor. I'm Celsi's friend.”

She opened the door a little
wider, a look of recognition mixed with puzzlement flitting across her face.
“Oh, yes, I remember you. How are you?” she asked politely.

“I'm good, how about you?”

Manners are important. I was
there to obtain information, so every little thing helped.

A watchful look on her face,
like she didn't quite trust me, Aunt Kelly replied, “I have a little bit of a
cold, but I'll live. Unfortunately, you're out of luck today. Celsi's at work.”

“I know,” I said, brushing my
hair out of my eyes. “That's actually why I'm here. I wanted to talk to you
about Celsi.”

The puzzlement on Aunt
Kelly's face turned to confusion as she looked at me. “You want to talk to me
about Celsi?” she repeated. “I don't understand. In relation to what?”

My answer was blunt and to
the point.

“I want to ask you about her
dad.”

Aunt Kelly pursed up her
lips, eying me silently for a long minute. Just as I thought she was about to
slam the door shut in my face, she opened it wider.

“Perhaps you'd better come
in,” she said, gesturing for me to enter.

I walked in to the drafty
apartment, waiting until Aunt Kelly closed the door before following her to the
sparsely furnished living room.

She sat down heavily on the
couch and pointed to a straight backed chair opposite, indicating that I should
sit. I sat, feeling a little like I was about to be interrogated.

Leaning forward in my chair,
I decided to break the uncomfortable silence. “Mrs. Grant-,” I started.

Aunt Kelly raised her hand to
stop me. “Before you start, let me ask you this one question. Did Celsi send
you here?”

I shook my head immediately.
“No. She doesn't even know I'm here.”

“So you decided that just
showing up unannounced on her doorstep to ask me about her father was a good
idea?”

Judging from the look on Aunt
Kelly's face, maybe it wasn't a good idea. But I was here now, and I was going
to get answers to my questions or die trying.

“Even though Celsi didn't
tell me to come and ask you about her dad, I-,” I started. Aunt Kelly
interrupted me again.

“Took it upon yourself to ask
me for her?” A distinctly hostile tone in her voice, Aunt Kelly continued.
“What does this have to do with you?”

“I just think that Celsi
deserves to know about her dad! Who he is, where he is- don't you think she has
the right to know? Don't you think her dad has the right to find out about the
beautiful daughter he's missing out on knowing?” I asked in a passionate rush.

For a second, as Aunt Kelly's
eyes narrowed to slits and her lips tightened, I thought I'd gone too far. In
fact, I was almost on the edge of my seat, ready to stand up and be escorted to
the door when she asked, “Why are you doing this? Asking me about Celsi's dad,
I mean. What could you possibly stand to gain from knowing his name or anything
about him?”

“Because I know that, even
though she doesn't say anything about it, Celsi really wants to meet her dad.”
I paused. “Did she tell you about my bucket list?”

“Yes, she did,” Aunt Kelly
replied.

“Well, one day she told me
that one of her biggest wishes was to meet her dad. I just want to make that
wish come true. She deserves that much, especially after helping me out so much
when she didn't need or have to,” I continued.

Aunt Kelly looked at me for a
long while. Finally, just as I was starting to get nervous, she said, “No. I
mean, why are you
really
doing this? Don't give me any hokey story about
'wishes', either.” She smiled, the first genuine smile she'd given me since I
walked through the door. “I'm old enough to sense crap when I hear it. Let's
not play games here.”

I stared at her. What did she
want me to say? I'd already told her the reason I wanted to help find CiCi's
dad- to make her wish come true. There was nothing more I could add to that.

Except for the truth.

That little voice in my head
which had the tendency to pop up unwanted was at it again with a vengeance.

You know, the real reason you
want CiCi around, helping you with your list. The real reason you get fired up
and pissed off whenever you see her bruised up. The real reason you hate seeing
her sad and love to see her smile.

Opening my mouth, I looked
Aunt Kelly right in her face and said, “Because I think I'm falling in love
with your niece.”

Sometimes I speak without
thinking and realize that I've just said the smartest thing possible.

That was one of the times.

Aunt Kelly went still, her
eyes still on me. Finally she nodded, as I was wondering what I had just said
and knowing that I meant every word of it. “There we go.” She was silent for a
few seconds. “There's no conceivable way you two will ever be together, you
know that. You're an Astor, an heir living on Park Avenue. Celsi is the
daughter of a teen junkie.” Her face was filled with sadness and pain as she
looked at me. “It can't work. Life and circumstances will keep you apart.”

I shrugged. Like today was
the first time I'd heard that! “Funny, that's what everybody keeps telling me,”
I replied.

“And what do you say?”

“Stranger things have
happened.”

“Are you really serious about
this?” Aunt Kelly asked rapidly, wrapping her scarf around her as a
particularly gusty draft blew through the room. I noticed that one of the windows
was covered with cardboard.

Running a hand through my
hair, I asked, “About what?” in a confused tone.

“Celsi.”

“Of course I am, Mrs. Grant!
She's really special to me.”

Dryly, Aunt Kelly said, “I'm
beginning to realize that. I just don't want to see her hurt.”

“I'm the last person who
would ever hurt her.”

“I beg to differ,” Aunt Kelly
said, folding her hands in her lap. “You've hurt her in the past.”

Biting my lip apprehensively,
I nodded in agreement. She was right. I had hurt CiCi before in the past. “I
know. But she's given me another chance.”

Aunt Kelly pondered this for
a second, then came at me with another roadblock. “What if Celsi's dad doesn't
want to meet her? That would crush her.”

“She won't ever have to know
that I even contacted him if he decides he doesn't want to meet her. I swear,
Mrs. Grant, I have Celsi's best interests at heart.”

Heaving a deep breath, Aunt
Kelly quietly asked, “What if he does want to meet her and takes her away from
me?”

I frowned slightly at the
tone in Aunt Kelly's voice. Jealousy?
That's
what was preventing her
from telling CiCi about her dad? It all made sense, as annoying as it was.
Maybe Aunt Kelly had a valid reason for wanting CiCi to herself since she
raised her singlehandedly, but it wasn't a tug-of-war game. CiCi's dad had the
right to know that he had a daughter, whether he wanted anything to do with her
or not.

“You of all people should
realize that Celsi's dad taking her would be a blessing,” I started, trying to
keep from blowing my top and going off on her. It was hard enough trying not to
tell her about Nate’s abuse! I guess it was up to me to knock some sense into
her head. “That's why you sent her to Dalton, to get her out of the hood. I
don't mean to be rude, but if you don't want Celsi to meet her dad because you
want her to live with you, that’s selfish of you.”

I mean, talk about double
standards.

Aunt Kelly's lips quivered
and her voice, when she spoke, was barely a whisper. “I lost my baby sister to
drugs when she was only 19. Celsi's the only reminder of her that I have left!
If her dad claims custody, I'll lose her.” Her voice shook and I gulped
guiltily as she dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. “I don't want to lose her.”

I felt bad as I looked at
her, I really did. But I felt worse for CiCi, who had to live in fear every
day. She deserved more than that, way more.

“I understand, Mrs. Grant.
But Celsi needs a father figure. You've been the best mother possible, but you
can't be both.”

We sat in silence for a long
while as Aunt Kelly (hopefully) thought over my argument. I was starting to
think that all hope was lost and she was just trying to come up with a polite
way to ask me to leave, when to my surprise she stood up and walked to a small
chest of drawers that was against the wall.

“You're a very persuasive
young man,” she remarked over her shoulder as she opened the top drawer and
rummaged in it. I was trying to sneak a peek at what she was looking for when
she closed the drawer and came up to me, a picture in her hand. Wordlessly, she
handed it to me.

“Oh, my God...” I murmured.

It was a small photo booth
picture of two happily grinning teens with their arms around each other. I
recognized the girl immediately from the picture that CiCi had in her locket.
Small and cheeky looking, with a wild afro. It was the boy that got my
attention. He looked so much like CiCi it was unbelievable.

“They have the same eyes,
don't they?” Aunt Kelly said, folding her hands behind her back and pacing back
and forth beside my seat.

I looked up at her, the
picture still in my hand. “Have you ever shown her this?”

“What do you think?” Shaking
her head no, Aunt Kelly sat down. “His name is on the back.” I turned the
picture over.
Enrique Garcia
. “He's part Spanish. Sharon was really into
him, said he was her very own 'Latin stud'.” She smiled wistfully.

“I thought you told Celsi
that her mom didn't know his last name.”

Looking embarrassed, Aunt
Kelly said, “I lied to protect her. The last thing I wanted was for Celsi to
start her own search. But now... maybe it
is
time.” I nodded in
agreement as she continued. “How will you track him down?”

“To be honest, I'm not too
sure. But as long as I know his name...” Images of me hiring a Private
Investigator to get on the case floated around in my head as I waved the photo
in the air. “Do you mind if I take this with me? I'll bring it back, I promise.
It's probably our best bet in getting Celsi's dad to remember dating her mom.”

Slowly, with great reluctance
on her face, Aunt Kelly nodded. “Okay. But you'd better leave now. My son
Nathan might be coming home soon, and he doesn't exactly like guests.”

I got to my feet immediately.
Not looking forward to seeing Nate come through that door. Or CiCi, for that
matter.

“Thanks for your help, Mrs.
Grant,” I said fervently.

“I just hope I won't live to
regret this.”

Shaking my head, I said,
“It's Celsi's dream to meet her dad. If all goes well, you won't regret it.”

***

You know how sometimes you
worry at a problem for so long that it seems unsolvable, and then you take a
break from thinking about it only to realize that the answer is right there?
Well, I had one of those moments the night after visiting Aunt Kelly. Worn out
from over thinking out ways to find CiCi's dad, I went into the kitchen in
search of a snack and got to talking to Smith, our butler. He was in a
talkative mood and he yammered on and on as I chewed on some pistachio nuts
that were on the table.

“And I searched for my
College name and the year I graduated and there was a picture of my graduating
class! It's amazing what you can find on the internet these days.”

I grinned inwardly at the
awestruck tone in his voice. Some people are easy to please.

“Oh, yeah. The internet is a
big place,” I remarked, popping a T3 into my mouth and chugging it down with a
glass of soda. Nothing like a Tylenol 3 to take away the dulling pain of an
aneurysm provoked headache. In my opinion, at the least.

“Very useful. My sister's
neighbor found her birth mother on the internet. She typed the ladies name on
that website- Facebook, is it? And lo and behold, her mother showed up.”

I was just trying to stifle a
laugh at Smith's use of the phrase 'lo and behold' (has anyone used that saying
since the 1800's?) when the rest of what he had said caught up with me.

Facebook!

Almost everybody had Facebook
these days, myself included. I didn't use it all that much these days because I
didn't have any friends, but I still had my account. Even Ahmed's mom had
Facebook, and she was one of the most technology challenged people I knew.

“I'll be right back.”

I jumped to my feet, ignoring
the flash of pain that sprouted in my temples, and sped to my room. Jumping
onto my bed, I grabbed my laptop, typed in CiCi's dads name in Google and hit
search. And the first result that popped up for Enrique Garcia was...you
guessed it. A Facebook profile.

My heart was thudding with
anticipation as I clicked on the link and waited for it to load. It was too
easy. This definitely wasn't going to be CiCi's dad- how many people had this
same exact name? With my luck, it was probably going to be a bad ass teenager
in a Yankee fitted.

My heart skipped a beat as
the profile loaded and my eyes honed in on the profile picture. It was him. The
same hazel eyes almost identical to CiCi's, the same face as in the picture,
albeit aged some years...

“It's him,” I muttered out
loud, staring at the laptop screen. “It's CiCi's dad.”

Hurriedly, I got the picture
of him and CiCi's mom from my top drawer and scanned it. Photographic evidence-
check. Then I hit 'send message' and the screen popped up. But what to say to
him that would convince him that I wasn't just playing a prank on him?

Wait a second, I had a
picture of CiCi too! I'd uploaded the press pictures that had been taken at the
gala onto my laptop. Dad always gets copies from the press photographers on a
memory stick. I quickly found one of CiCi, looking radiant in her gorgeous
dress, attached it to the message along with the other picture and wrote '
Mr.
Garcia. This might come as a shock to you. Do you remember Sharon from New
York? She had a daughter. Please tell me if the girl in this picture reminds
you of anyone.'

It sounded stupid and
contrived, but my mind was moving at a sluggish rate, thanks to the meds, which
were starting to kick in. I shrugged and hit send, wondering whether Enrique
was going to dismiss the message as a joke or whether he would reply.

Faith knocked on my door and
swept in, wearing her pink party dress.

“Luke! I'm having a tea
party! In my room. Wanna come? It's gonna be fun!” she wheedled, pulling at my
sleeve.

I gave a mock growl, grabbing
her up into my arms. “Okay, but you better make sure you got real people food,
okay? I don't eat playdoh.”

“Okay! Let's go!” she
chirped, dragging me from my bed.

When I came back a couple of
hours later, I had all but forgotten the message I sent but I remembered as
soon as I saw the notification on the screen.

Enrique Garcia's response was
simple, to the point and filled me with hope that at last, everything might
work out for CiCi after all-
'Where is my daughter?'

CHAPTER 27

journey to the
past.

Luke's
Bucket List- Make someone's wish come true

Make someone
cry with happiness

Say 'I love
you'...and really mean it

Celsi’s
Point of View

After my mini disagreement
with Luke, the last thing I expected was for him to call me up and ask if I
wanted to go out to dinner with him a few days later.

More proof that Luke is
the King of Randomness.

Still, despite a niggling
feeling that maybe Luke had some kind of 'intervention' planned, I was just
glad to get out of the apartment for a while. The tension was tangible. Nate
was in foul mood after foul mood which meant that I had taken to hiding out in
my room to stay out of his way. And I don't know if my mind was playing tricks
on me, but I was almost positive that Aunt Kelly was acting weird around me. It
wasn't anything that I could actually put into words, but sometimes I saw her
shoot me little side glances when she thought I wasn't looking and occasionally
she would open her mouth like she wanted to tell me something then abruptly
close it again. And she didn't even trip when I told her I was going on a date
with Luke. Just said 'have fun'.

I met Luke outside Nino's
Deli once I'd finally decided on an appropriate outfit. Since Luke hadn't gone
into details about our 'date', (even though he
had
called it a date,
which was a plus) I didn't know what to wear. Finally, I settled on a pair of
skinny jeans, a top, blazer and flats. It would have helped if I knew where he
was taking me, but that was part of the surprise.

I guess.

Luke was sitting on a
sidewalk bench outside the deli as I approached, staring at his hands intently.
He didn't spot me and I slowed down, trying to gather my thoughts. Although we
hadn't exactly left each other on bad terms that fateful day, I wasn't proud of
the way I had reacted to him when he told me to tell Aunt Kelly what was going
on with Nate.
He doesn't understand.
Okay, that was true, but it still
didn't give me the right to bite his head off like that when he was just trying
to help. I acted like a jerk that day, and I was going to suck up my pride and
apologise.

He looked up as my shadow
fell over him, his eyes brightening. “Hey,” he said cheerfully, getting to his
feet and hugging me close.

I hugged him back, inhaling
the clean, fresh scent that rose from his body. “Hi.”

“How are you feeling?” he
asked, stepping back and brushing the hair gently out of my eyes. The
compassion in his voice almost brought tears to my eyes. He really cared!
Of
course he does, Celsi, don't you know this by now?
Well, maybe... “Are you
okay?”

I nodded, touched by his
concern. He looked pale and tired, like he wasn't sleeping well. I knew the
headaches were screwing up his life, but he still was looking out for me.

“I'm fine. Are
you
okay, though? You look exhausted.”

He ran a hand through his
hair, choosing that moment to yawn widely. “Oh yeah, I'm good. I was up late,
getting stuff done.” Shrugging, he shot me a cute grin. “You know, figuring
things out.”

Well, that makes
perfect sense. Not!

“Okay, then,” I muttered
dryly, suddenly glad that Nino's was closed as Luke lowered his head till his
lips were on mine and kissed me. I closed my eyes,
savoring
the way he tasted. What would Nino have said or done if he
had seen what was going on right outside his store? Luke's hands tangled in my
hair as he bit softly on my bottom lip, making me shiver.

“You ready to go?” he
whispered, his lips grazing mine as he spoke.

I nodded; trying to act
like the feeling of Luke's lips on mine didn't turn my legs to jelly.

“I'm ready. Not like I
know what I'm ready for,” I replied slightly breathlessly, as Luke hailed down
a cab.

He gave the cab driver the
name and address of the place we were going and grinned cheekily at me. “All in
good time, beautiful,” he said. “Oh, and you look really nice today, by the
way.”

I glowed with pleasure.
All
these compliments got a girl nervous!
“Thanks.” I pointed nervously to my
outfit. “I'm not overdressed am I?”

Since you won't tell me
where we're going and all that jazz. Mr. Mysterious.

Luke didn't seem to get
the hint. “Not even,” he replied sunnily.

We sat in awkward silence
for a few seconds. “So, what's the occasion for this 'date'?” I finally asked,
feeling curious.

“I don't know,” Luke
replied evasively, not looking me in the eyes. “I just felt like making your
day. You know, bringing a smile to that pretty face.”

He caressed my cheek
gently.
Don't make me jump you!

“Oh...”

“Is it working?” he
whispered, leaning in closer to me.

“Yes,” I murmured back,
just before he kissed me softly on the lips and leaned back in his seat,
looking self-satisfied.

“You ain't seen nothing
yet.”

Aaaand we're back to
Luke talking in riddles!

“What's that supposed to
mean?”

“It means you ain't seen
nothing yet,” Luke replied, grinning inscrutably.
Ooh, boy, you make me so
mad!

I threw my hands up in the
air in mock frustration. Well, there was some real frustration in there, but
for the most part I was just playing. “Luke!”

He looked smugly at me,
the grin on his face fading as his eyes locked on my cheek. Although the cut
under my eye had healed, the scar still showed lightly against my skin.
Uneasily, I shook my hair over it, letting out a sigh. Luke didn't say a word
but as I turned to stare out of the window, I could feel his eyes on me.

Damn you scar, for
turning the moment so awkward.

It was the reason for all
the drama we'd had a few days ago. I didn't want to fight with Luke or have him
mad at me because I wasn't telling Aunt Kelly about Nate.

The cab stopped at some
traffic lights and I snuck a peek at Luke, only to find that he was sneaking a
peek at me.
Say it! Apologise for acting like a jerk!
“Luke, I just- I
wanted to- I'm sorry for being so difficult the other day.” I swallowed hard,
looking into his suddenly serious green eyes. “I know that you're looking out
for me, and I'm happy you are. It's just that, if you were in my shoes, you
would understand how scared I am to say anything to anyone.”

I hung my head,
embarrassed that I had to let him know that I was scared. I was so used to
putting on a happy front that letting my guard down was frightening for me.
Celsi,
its Luke. He's seen you at your lowest
. Point noted.

Sighing, Luke leaned his
head against the headrest, closing his eyes. “I know,” he replied, his hands
clenching into fists. “I'm not happy about it but I know what you mean.”
Opening his eyes, he patted my hand. “I'm sorry about attacking you when I
should have comforted you instead.”

“That’s okay,” I
whispered.

He grinned. I grinned
back. Unnecessary drama resolved.
High five to us!

“So what did you get up to
today?” Luke asked me curiously, lightly grazing my palm with his fingertips,
making me feel all tingly inside.

“I spent the afternoon
reading to my
neighbor’s
mother. She's
bedridden.”

Pastor Weeks was the nicest
neighbor anyone could ever want to have. He checked up on us weekly, bringing
us food parcels, soap, shampoo, etc. In fact, he was the person who bought me
my winter jacket two years ago. His mother was one of the sweetest, kindest
women I had ever met.