Eduardo's Arc

Chapter 56 of 60

Mother Angel's words followed Eduardo home. Kiersten wanted to see the house. He had one day to make it ready. He knew how to make a place look good for a guest. He had done it a hundred times for people he wanted to fool. That was the danger. He could still perform. He could still turn a home into a stage. He drove to the round tea house with the curling roof. Lace covered the small tables on the porch. Tealy met him at the door in her purple robe, her white hair catching the light. She read people the way she read her cards. He had come to her before troubles grew. "She's coming," Eduardo said. "Kiersten. To see the house. I don't know how to do it right." Tealy poured him tea before he sat. She turned a single card over on the lace. She did not name it. "You want her to leave impressed," she said. It was not a question. "Yes," Eduardo said. Then he stopped. "No. That's the old want. I want her to leave with the truth." Tealy nodded slowly. "Then don't cook to be praised. Cook to keep her warm. The difference lives in why your hands move." She pressed a small pouch of herbs into his palm. "For the tea. Nothing more." Eduardo drove home and worked. He split wood until his shoulders ached. He built a fire and fed it until the room held heat. He laid blankets over the chair and the bench. Each time pride whispered to add something grand, he set the whisper down. He made soup from what he had. He steeped Tealy's herbs into tea. The house smelled of broth and woodsmoke. It was plain. It was warm. Kiersten came at dusk. She was short, her arms marked with old tattoos, her auburn eyes steady. She stepped inside and said nothing for a long moment. Eduardo felt the old urge rise. Fill the silence. Sell the room. He held his tongue. "You cut this wood today," she said. Not a question. "This morning." She touched the blanket on the chair. "You used to make things look good for company. Then let them rot after." Her voice was flat and plain. "This isn't for show." "No," Eduardo said. "It's just soup." She sat. He gave her the bowl and the tea. He did not hover. He did not ask what she thought. He let her eat in the quiet warmth. His hands did not perform. They only served. Kiersten finished the tea and set the cup down. "I feared coming here," she said. "I thought you'd try to win me." "I thought I might too," Eduardo said. "You didn't." She stood. She looked at him without softness, without doubt. "That's new." She left before full dark. Eduardo stayed by the fire. He had hosted her without becoming the man she once fled. The door she had feared to open stayed open behind her.