10 - Time to Move On
Carlos heard the front door of the apartment open and close just as he was transferring the dishes he'd made to the small dining table that shared the living area. He'd set it for two, knowing that Celia always had her boyfriend over for dinner on a Friday night, and being the interloper in the apartment at the moment, he was planning on making himself scarce out of respect for his sister. He returned to the kitchen to make himself a plate to take to the spare-bedroom-slash-home office he'd been staying in for the last few nights, but when he turned to disappear, Celia was blocking his path.
She looked tired, which sent a wave of guilt through Carlos. He didn't want to impose on her life like this, but there was only so much the recruiter could do to get him processed and off to start his new life. He needed a place to stay, and his options were limited. He couldn't go to his parents house. They would just berate him and try to convince him not to join the army. He couldn't go to his Tia's house in Trenton because that would be the first place Steph would look for him. That left crashing with one of his siblings. And since Marisol and Lucia had moved interstate for college, and Elias shared a tiny apartment above the garage he worked at with two other guys, Celia was his only real option.
She'd always looked out for him, always had his back even when the rest of the world seemed to turn against him. It was Celia who had convinced their parents not to just let the cops throw him in Juvie when he was caught stealing the car when he was fifteen. Aside from Steph, she was the one who understood him the most in this world. She didn't judge, didn't criticise, didn't question his decisions.
Coming to Celia now had been an instinct. If he couldn't talk to Steph about his feelings, or trust himself to say goodbye to her without being pulled back into her orbit, he could at least trust that Celia would understand. Right?
Wrong.
The last several days since he'd left school had been tense. Sure she'd been sympathetic when he arrived on her doorstep, barely holding himself together. But once she'd learned why he was there, and what he planned to do next, her attitude changed. She thought he was being too hasty. He wasn't thinking rationally. That his decision to join the army was too big to make when he was wading through such a well of emotion.
She was wrong, though.
This wasn't some decision he was making on the spur of the moment. He'd been thinking about it for two years. Planning. He'd already met with a recruiter; he knew what he was getting himself into, what a commitment it was. And he was ready for it. The only reason he'd gone to college in the first place was because of the pressure from his parents to do the right thing and the hope that being with Steph away from the toxic influence of the Burg would be different. That it would allow him to be open with her about his feelings.
Seeing her thrive in freedom just made it harder, though. She didn't need to worry about what her parents would say, because there wasn't anyone around to report on her actions. She was free to be her authentic self, and her authentic self was so much more attractive than he'd anticipated it being. She was already gorgeous inside and out, but with the weight of the constant surveillance and judgement lifted from her shoulders, she'd turned into the most stunning human being he'd ever seen.
She deserved more than some screwed up guy with a gang history who'd narrowly avoided being sent to juvie by the grace of a sympathetic judge who thought he had better chances of turning his life around outside of the system. Stephanie Plum deserved someone who would love her unconditionally, who would support her in all her endeavours, and who didn't have a dark past looming over them, ready to crop up at inopportune moments. He hoped that by stepping away, she could one day find the person who matched her soul.
"How was work?" Carlos asked, setting his plate back on the kitchen counter and offering his eldest sister a hug. She looked exhausted.
She fairly collapsed into his arms, resting her forehead on his shoulder. He didn't recall when the scale had tipped on their heights exactly. One moment he was a weedy teen, looking her in the eye, and now the top of her head tucked neatly under his chin. The change had seemingly happened overnight. And if he was being honest, he kinda missed the days when she would tuck him protectively under her arm and ruffle his hair.
"Hard," she whispered against his t-shirt. Celia was in her final year of law school, and while he'd thought she was coping incredibly well with the pressures of her study and internship based on the way she presented herself at family dinners, the last few days crashing with her had told him a different story. She was exhausted all the time. If she wasn't at her internship, she was studying casefiles, or writing her dissertation. He'd found her asleep with her head on the kitchen table and a textbook open beside her more times than was healthy in the short time he'd been staying with her.
It was part of the reason he'd decided to take over the cooking while he was here. Just a small way to say thank you for opening her home to him and agreeing not to tell their parents that he'd dropped out of college. They would find out eventually, of course, but he didn't want to deal with their disappointment. He knew that they just wanted him to get a college degree and find a respectable job to live out the rest of his days in peace, but nothing about that vision sat right with him. He couldn't imagine himself sitting behind a desk for the rest of his life, and none of the more practical streams he'd explored suited him either.
The one thing that he kept coming back to was the unexpected peace he'd found during his summer at military school. It rivalled the calm that swept over him when he and Steph were hanging out, and if he couldn't have her, he could at least have that peace.
Celia must have peered over his shoulder into the dining area and noticed the set up, because she pulled back from his embrace, sweeping her long ponytail over her shoulder as she shot a glance to his prepared plate behind her on the counter. She shot him a questioning look through the pure exhaustion lining her face.
"Where do you think you're going?" she asked.
Carlos shrugged. "I'm clearing out so I'm not a third wheel."
She shook her head and picked up his plate, marching it over to the table he'd laid out so painstakingly and set it down before picking up one of the empty plates and returning it to the cupboard it had come from. "Reynaldo isn't coming over," she explained. "I texted him this afternoon. I'm too tired." She pulled an open bottle of wine from the fridge and poured two glasses. Handing him one and taking the other for herself, she grabbed his forearms and tugged him toward the table. "Besides," she added. "You're leaving soon and I wanna maximise on my time with my baby brother before the army ruins him."
"They're not gonna ruin me, Cee," Carlos protested, with a light laugh.
"They're gonna break you down and build you back up the way they see fit, Carlos," she said gravely, taking a sip of her wine and setting it aside to start filling her plate. "You're gonna become a drone for the government. You're gonna see things and experience unspeakable trauma. That changes people, and I don't want to lose you again. Worse than before."
Carlos shook his head. He didn't want to admit to her that he was looking forward to being broken down. Maybe when they put the pieces back together they'd misplace that part of him that was aching for Stephanie Plum even now, even with all his hurt and resolve. Maybe he was better off without it. "You should think about becoming a recruiter," he joked, passing her a dish. "You really know how to sell life in the military."
She scoffed. "I'm not trying to sell it, 'mano." She pointed her fork at him accusingly. "I'm trying to convince you that you're making a mistake."
"Which is the exact response I would have expected from Mama," Carlos replied, an edge to his tone. They'd already been over all his reasons for keeping their parents in the dark until after he was already at basic. "I'm not changing my mind."
Celia just sighed and stared at him for a long moment, an incredible sadness in her eyes that twisted in Carlos's gut. Eventually, though, she gave her head a light shake and scooped her fork through the pasta on her plate and asked, "Do you have your summons yet?"
He nodded. "I leave Sunday."
*o*
Steph stared at the man across from her, trying to convince The synapses in her brain to start firing as she tried to place where she'd seen him before. Her brain had been mush for a few days now, between the shock and grief of losing her best friend, and her inability to sleep since he left. On the whole she was surprised she hadn't accidentally injured herself just by going through her day to day routine in a brain fog.
Steph blinked. Once. Twice. Her mouth hinged open - to say what she had no idea - and eventually, after a lengthy pause, she managed to form the appropriately confused question: "Do I know you?"
The guy clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes so hard she started to wonder if he was from the Burg, but then he shook his head and released one hand from his coffee cup, presenting it to Steph in an elegant gesture that reminded her of royalty offering their hand to be kissed. She decided that probably wasn't the intention and lifted one of her own hands to shake it awkwardly instead. His grip was surprisingly strong for how floaty his gesture had been.
"I'm Hildebrand, but you can call me Deb," he explained. "We have ethics together. And honey, you look like you have been chewed up and spat back out. What happened to the cute skirts? The bouncy curls? The smile! Who hurt you?"
Steph felt a bit like a goldfish as her mouth opened and closed, no words coming out. She knew who hurt her. It was a simple question. There was only one person in her life that she'd given enough power to cause the devastation she was currently surviving. But somehow, admitting it out loud to a stranger felt like a betrayal. No matter what, she still loved Carlos. She hadn't been ready to talk about his absence with her friends when they'd asked, and the thought of casting blame at home with no context felt wrong.
Deb was eyeing her critically, something calculating behind his gaze that made her feel exposed, like she'd walked out of her dorm in her underwear. But after several seconds of Steph's hesitance, his face softened and he leaned his elbows on the table, lifting his coffee cup to his lips for a short sip.
"It was that fine hunk of tanned muscle with the cheekbones that could cut glass and a smile that I'd hand over my panties to have cast in my direction, wasn't it?" Deb asked.
As her brain continued to slowly plug into the mainframe and allow her thoughts to restart, Steph acknowledged that Deb had pretty much hit the nail on the head. And he'd stated in such a way that she was caught off guard enough to be already nodding her head before she realised the word yes was on the tip of her tongue.
"I…" she started instead, but her thoughts still weren't in order, and her tongue was suddenly connected to a synapse that was firing faster than she could think to stop it. "He left," she admitted. "I love him. I thought we were going to be together forever. And he left without even telling me goodbye. I never got a chance to tell him goodbye. I never got a chance to tell him how much I love him. And now I never will."
Fresh tears welled in her eyes for the first time in days as a broken sob left her. She thought she'd gotten past the crying. She thought she had no more tears left in her, that Carlos had stolen that away along with her heart. But as the torrent of emotion surged through her anew, she realised it was much worse than that. Carlos had left her with just enough of her heart to make sure she could wallow in the agony of his absence. It would have been kinder to just rip the whole thing from her chest and allow her to live out the rest of her days as an emotionless zombie.
Arms enveloped her, strong, yet overwhelmingly gentle, as she was tucked under Deb's chin, creating a private little grief bubble in the midst of the busy dining hall. "Oh, Honey," he murmured quietly as his hand rubbed up and down her bicep. "You can't let this destroy you. That's not what he would want for you."
Those words - the assurance that even though he'd left her, Carlos wouldn't want her to be suffering like this - broke her even more than she thought possible. A deep, gut- wrenching sob cracked her ribs open to expose what was left of her heart to the harsh judgement of the world. But Deb held her tightly, making sure none of her shattered pieces got swept up in the activity continuing around them, oblivious to her meltdown. It wasn't unusual for a student to give into the mounting pressures of college life and breakdown and cry into their meal, after all.
"Come on," Deb said in a no-nonsense tone once her tears had slowed enough that she was able to take even breaths again. He tugged her to her feet, abandoning the meal she wasn't interested in anyway, and linking his arm with hers to lead her out of the dining hall. "You're getting the Deb Deluxe."
"The Deb Deluxe?" she parrotted.
"The Deb Deluxe," he confirmed, nodding assuredly as they started down the path. "Delivered to deserving damsels diligently driving forward through dickhead dumpings."
Steph dug her heels in, forcing them to stop and waiting until Deb turned to face her on the path before she spoke. "First of all, the way that alliterated description flowed so freely off your tongue and is very specific to my situation is a little creepy," she informed him. "And second of all, Carlos isn't a dickhead."
Deb gave her arm a sympathetic pat. "Honey," he intoned, like he was telling her a secret. "First of all, I'm usually the damsel getting the Deb Deluxe. And second, the way he left you is grade A dickhead behaviour."
Now that she thought about it, it was hard to argue with that assessment, but she still wasn't comfortable with calling Carlos a dickhead. She wasn't comfortable with calling him anything. She wanted to forget about him, but how was she supposed to do that when everything in her life reminded her of the time they'd spent together, of the friendship they'd forged. She couldn't even brush her teeth without remembering the night at the shore when he'd made her laugh so hard she sprayed toothpaste foam all over the mirror in their hotel room.
Maybe the Deb Deluxe was just what she needed? "What does it entail?" she asked, deciding to trust him. She looped their arms together again and he led her forward down the path.
"Manicure, pedicure, facial, and a hair treatment," Deb listed off.
"Sounds perfect," she admitted.
"Exactly," Deb agreed.
For the first time in a week Steph felt like she could breathe as she entered her shared dorm room later that night. The weight that had been filling her chest since the second she learned Carlos was gone had gradually lifted over the last several hours as she poured her heart out to her new friend, and she finally felt like she could tolerate this life without him.
Sarah and Louise were waiting for her in the small sitting area, serious expressions on their faces that sprung into shock as they took in her appearance. The healthy glow of her cheeks, the shiny, bouncy curls, the fresh, royal blue lacquer on her nails where she gripped the pizza box.
"Oh good," Steph said, smiling broadly. "You're both here. I brought pizza to thank you both for being there for me over the last few days."
Sarah blinked a few times, the abrupt turn around having caught her off-guard. "You're… what happened?"
Steph set the pizza down on the coffee table and took a seat on the floor opposite the couch. "A friend helped me process everything that's happened."
"Was that friend a beautician?" Louise asked. "I've never seen your hair this on point."
She just shook her head. "No, we had a pamper session and talked."
"And you're going to be okay?" Sara and Louise both had narrowed gazes, unsure what to make of this new Stephanie.
Flipping open the pizza box and lifting a slice, Steph took a large bite, moaning in delight as the sauce and toppings touched her tongue. "Mmhmm," she confirmed. "God, this is so good. You should try it."