“Has she ever said anything like that before?”
“Not to my face.” When Oliver leveled him a flat look, Felipe sighed. “No.”
“Then, read it. I doubt it’ll be anything that bad. And we can still go see her soon. Hell, we could go tomorrow if you want. I’ve been a dedicated employee for ten years, so I’ve earned a little time off when the body count is low. Or I could lie and say I need to do research at the College of Physicians for Mrs. Abbot’s skeleton, and that’s why I’m running to Philadelphia.”
“Maybe on Wednesday.”
Never had Felipe been so happy to see food arrive. Oliver paled at the pungent smell of liver and onions, but Felipe’s mouth watered. He forced himself to slow down and not shovel the food into his mouth. As he cut his meat, Oliver’s eyes covertly flickered in his direction. The man probably thought this fatigue and shaking was something that had always been. He couldn’t know that his body was eternally healing itself now, and the things he had taken for granted as being temporary were now the norm. When Oliver cut the second half of his steak and blood pooled on his plate, Felipe’s stomach growled painfully. Ordering a second meal would look suspicious and he didn’t want to put Oliver out, but god, did he want it.
“What do you think? Sometimes they overcook my steak, but generally, their food is pretty consistent.”
“You come for the consistency,” Felipe remarked.
Oliver nodded, though Felipe thought he caught a hint of shame or guilt. “If it’s too cooked, I can’t eat it. The texture makes it impossible to get down, even if the taste is fine.”
“Well, my liver was quite good, though I apologize in advance for my breath.”
A soft chuckle escaped Oliver’s lips as he tipped his plate toward Felipe. “You want the rest of my steak? This side’s a little overcooked for me, and I’m still pretty full from what you brought me this morning. I don’t want it to go to waste.”
“If you’re sure you don’t want it.”
Scraping the remaining meat onto Felipe’s plate, Oliver flashed him a satisfied smile and returned to his vegetables. Felipe closed his eyes to savor the steak. It might not be the best he ever had, that had been in San Francisco, but the relief of having it trumped seasonings or cut. Three bites in, he realized the steak was tender and fully pink in the center. When he opened his mouth to say something, he found Oliver fully engrossed in what remained on his plate. Had he noticed Felipe staring longingly at his meal and thought to share, knowing Felipe would never ask for more? Felipe swallowed against the knot in his throat. Maybe Oliver could do him one more kindness.
“Oliver, would you read Teresa’s letter to me?”
The medical examiner blinked at him with a forkful of potato halfway to his mouth before letting it drop. “You want me to read it?”
“I don’t think I can do it. I’m too much of a coward. I’m afraid I’ll keep putting it off and putting it off until I run out of time, and I don’t want to go not knowing what she said, even if it is bad. But if you read it aloud to me, then I have to hear it.”
Taking the crinkled envelope from Felipe’s hand, Oliver tore it open and carefully unfolded the missive. His grey eyes flickered across the first few lines, mouth ghosting the words before he nodded and cleared his throat with a smile.
“Dear Papa, I hope you’re well and that you’ll be back in New York by the time this letter reaches you. I have so missed our trips to the museum together and our dinnertime chats, but more than anything, I miss knowing you’re safe,” Oliver began in a warm voice only loud enough for them to hear.
Teresa’s letter veered into what she had done in her art classes, gossip about her close friends, complaining about the professor who required them to do too many sketches and drawings per week. With each paragraph, the smile on Felipe’s face grew and the painful hollow in his gut eased a fraction.
“Oh, you’ll like this and so will Agatha,” Oliver added. “I have sold three of my botanical patterns to a company that prints wallpaper, and they will appear in next season’s catalog. The money from the sale will be reinvested into next year’s tuition, so I won’t need to rely so heavily on you, Mama, and Ma Ma. Before you protest, I am quite proud and will not take no for an answer.She’s sounds quite spirited, much like her parents.”
“She gets that from Louisa, I’m afraid. Call that spirited, but when you’re up against the brick wall that is Teresa or Louisa, you would change your tune.”
“I’m also very excited and writing to you now because I’ll be going on a trip across the state with the college to see several private art collections and working artists our teachers are acquainted with. I’m most looking forward to seeing the collection at the new Carnegie Institute as well as Mr. Carnegie’s grand public library. Ma Ma would be envious as the collection is supposedly very modern. I will be—” Oliver’s face fell as he silently reread the line.
“What? What is it?”
“I will be leaving on Monday, the eighteenth, and will return Sunday, the twenty-fourth.”
He wouldn’t be able to see her in time. She had boarded a train or a steamer that very day, and there would be no way to see his daughter before Saturday. Oliver had offered to go to Philadelphia how many times, and as always, he had put Teresa off in favor of work. Felipe ground the heels of his hands into his eyes to stave off the searing heat behind them.
“We can still see her. We can meet her in Pittsburg on Friday or Saturday. She says they’ll be staying there for two days, and it’s their last stop before returning home. It isn’t too late,” Oliver said so gently, so emphatically that Felipe almost believed him.
“I don’t want to ruin her trip.”
“I highly doubt you’ll be ruining it. I’m sure she would be happy to see you. You could say you were on a case in the area and wanted to surprise her.”
“And then, I’ll die that day or the next day, and she can blame herself for the rest of her life that somehow my visiting her caused it,” Felipe gritted out. “No. I can’t do that to her. Let’s go back. I want to go.”
“Just let me settle the bill.”
Throwing back the rest of his beer, Felipe slid out of the booth. “I’m going outside.”
