Page 47 of The Fixer and the Fugitive

“To healing all the broken pieces,” Celeste agreed, adding her glass.

“To falling in love,” Sam said. He had no water, so he merely held his hand up.

“You look like someone who has a question,” Celeste said, sipping her water before setting it down.

“I do,” he agreed, taking her water and drinking a hearty amount. “What was your job for The Colonel?”

“Trust me when I tell you that you don’t want to know,” Leo interjected. “Cause if she tells you, then she has to kill you.”

“Might be worth it,” Sam mused, eyeing Celeste.

“I’ve seen the tapes, friend. Believe me, it’s not,” Leo said, downing the rest of his water.

Chapter 23

It was almost dusk by the time Esther finished her report. She arrived blinking into the living room like someone who woke on planet earth without a clue about how they arrived there.

“Celeste, I feel the need for a little fresh air. Is it okay if I explore your orchard?” she asked.

“Yes,” Celeste said. “Would you like some company?”

“Yes,” Esther said, reaching for her jacket.

They walked a few moments in silence, Esther breathing deeply to restore the oxygen she’d likely depleted while typing in a darkened room.

“I’m so delighted for Leo, Esther. He seems so happy with you,” Celeste said.

Esther murmured something, a word Celeste couldn’t discern. She leaned in to hear better. “Pardon me?”

“Mudita,” Esther said louder. “It means taking delight in the happiness of others, and it’s a rare gift. Thank you, Celeste.”

It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to Celeste, and especially a woman. She felt a warm little glow that someone of Esther’s caliber had found something good to say about her, the same sort of feeling she got whenever The Colonelapproved of her. As if she wanted to keep growing and doing better to earn more praise. But neither did she want to appear as pathetically over-eager for acceptance and approval as she felt, so they meandered in silence a few moments until Esther spoke again.

“It’s so beautiful here, and you have so many lovely trees.”

Celeste stopped short. “Thank you, but aren’t they all dead?”

In answer, Esther reached around her and scratched at a piece of bark, pointing. “The bark is still green, they’re alive. They’ve been neglected, for certain, but nothing a little trim and feeding won’t fix.”

“They’re…they’re alive?” Celeste said, not sure how to feel. She had written the trees off as a loss, their revitalization impossible. But now that they weren’t, what should she do next? “I have no idea what to do with them. I’ve never even kept a cactus alive.”

“It’s not so hard, once you learn the basics. My family has an orchard.”

She said it so offhand, as if everyone’s family owned land and trees that made sustainable fruit. “They do?”

“Yes, they’re quite into cider and jam,” Esther said, her hand still lovingly caressing the tree.

“How did they learn how to tend the orchard?” Celeste asked.

“My grandfather taught my father, before that his father taught him.”

Celeste’s heart sank.It always comes back to that.“That definitely won’t be my case.”

“Just because your father died doesn’t mean you can’t find someone to teach you,” Esther said.

Celeste froze again. “My father’s dead?”

Esther’s head whipped around, eyes widening with horror. “You didn’t know?”

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