The Silent Sister(64)

“All right,” she said. He’d mentioned a granddaughter from time to time and Jade was glad she was visiting him. Somehow, she felt responsible for Charlie. She worried about him living alone and she missed him those weeks he didn’t stop in. She wasn’t sure of his age and he didn’t seem the least bit frail, but he was an old man and she knew he’d adored the wife he’d lost. She knew, too, that he loved coming into Grady’s and feeling like family here. She was hypersensitive to loneliness.

She was busy adding new CDs to the classical section when Charlie tapped her elbow. She looked up. “Jade,” he said, “I’d like you to meet my granddaughter, Celia.”

Next to Charlie stood a young woman a little taller than him and a little older than Jade. Her dark brown hair was cropped very short on one side, a little longer on the other, and a lock of it fell across her temple. She wore black shorts and a gray Indigo Girls T-shirt with short capped sleeves. One of her slender arms was draped around her grandfather’s shoulders, and she smiled at Jade, who felt hypnotized by the young woman’s silver-gray eyes. It was impossible to look away from those eyes, and Jade didn’t want to. She spoke as though everything was perfectly normal—Hello, Celia. Nice to meet you. How long are you here for? Your grandfather said you’re looking for something in particular—but she couldn’t pull her gaze away from Celia’s, and Celia didn’t seem to mind one bit. It was like a Vulcan mind meld. The strangest thing. Jade could see her future and Celia was part of it.

“Grandpop said you know every record that’s ever been recorded,” Celia said.

“Well…” She blushed, and she wasn’t usually a blusher. “Now you’ve made me nervous,” she said.

“I’m looking for an old album by Robin Flower. I can’t find it anywhere.”

“1st Dibs?” Jade asked, though it wasn’t really a question. Somehow she knew which one Celia wanted. Celia didn’t have to tell her.

“That’s it,” she said. They were still staring at one another.

“We have it on vinyl. No CD, though.”

“Perfect,” Celia said.

“I told you,” Charlie said to her. “Told you she was good.”

She managed to tear her gaze from Celia’s to look at him and saw the mild amusement on his face, as though he’d known all along there’d be a quick and intense connection between Jade and his granddaughter.

Charlie stepped away from Celia’s arm and gently pushed her in Jade’s direction. “You two find the Robin Flower record,” he said. “I’ll be in the jazz section.”

* * *

“I love your grandfather,” Jade said as she and Celia started riffling through the albums. She knew exactly where the Flower record was, but she didn’t want to get to it too quickly. Celia’s shoulder was pressed against hers, and Jade watched the muscles and tendons in Celia’s forearm as she moved the albums. She felt heat rising up her chest and into her cheeks and her knees shivered. It was at once the most disorienting and delicious feeling she’d ever experienced, even though she was afraid she might need to sit down right there on the floor to keep from keeling over.

“He loves you back,” Celia said. “He said he always comes in on the days you work.” Her hands were beautiful. They were a warm honey color, like the rest of her, the fingers long and slender with short rounded nails. “He said you’re a music major. Violin, right? No wonder you knew the Robin Flower record.”

It took her a moment to find her voice. “Right,” she said.

“And he said you want to teach. I teach, too.”

“Really? What grade?”

“I teach math at a community college in Portland.”

“Wow!” She suddenly felt very young. “Here it is.” She pulled out the album and handed it to Celia.

“Cool!” Celia lifted the album into her honey-colored hands, then looked at her. “Grandpop said to ask you over to dinner tonight.”

Jade had the feeling he’d said If you like her, ask her over. And Celia liked her.

“I’d love that,” Jade said.

They stepped back from the records and Jade was almost afraid to look at her again and feel that otherworldly pull of her eyes. But she did it.

“How old are you?” Celia asked.

“Twenty-two. I sort of got a late start with college because I needed to work for a while first. So I’m only going into my senior year now.” She blathered on when what she really wanted to say was, You are so amazingly beautiful! “How old are you?” she asked.

“Twenty-five. You’ll come over tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Sevenish? You know where he lives?”

She nodded. “I’ll bring wine?”

“No, don’t. We’ll have everything. Just bring yourself.” She rested her perfect hand on Jade’s forearm, tightening her fingers ever so slightly, and for the rest of the day Jade kept touching her arm where Celia had touched, and each time, she felt the heat rise up her chest to her face as she ticked down the hours until seven.

* * *

Although she knew which bungalow was Charlie’s, Jade had never been inside it before. His walls were covered with paintings, large and small. She didn’t know much about art, but she had the feeling the work in his living room was original and possibly valuable. She’d known he wasn’t a poverty-stricken old man, given the amount of money he spent in Grady’s, but besides the art on the walls and the shelves filled with records—so much like her father’s collection—there was nothing in his modest, cozy house to make her think he was wealthy.