100 reasons to love our lives

One last promise

Will

"You can always rely on me", I had promised her once. And I was a keeper of promises.

Right after Nico had driven away with the police, Celine had approached me. The brain tumor of her mother had messed with her again; and she had mistaken Celine for her sister. The blonde girl had been shaken by that; shaken enough to actually stop mocking me about "my sugar daddy being in prison" when I asked her to.

She had asked me to spend the night in her mother's home. Because I wanted to distract myself from the horror of my poor boyfriend being at the police station, I had said yes. It had been a long drive to her, but at least, I had my homework done. It was already dark as we arrived.

Even Nico would let me go, I was sure of that. Once, he had a very traumatic experience with a mad mother named May Castellan - he knew how that could feel.
Therefore, I didn't feel guilty about spending the night by her house.

She had the most basic house I could imagine - one floor, made from wood and bricks. It stood between dozens of other little houses; looking just like that.
Celine breathed a little heavier than before, her hands firmly clasping the steering wheel.

I got out of the little black car, holding my face in the cool december air. Celine threw my bag into my arms. "Come on", she said. "I'll prepare the couch for you."
"Thanks", I meant, following her through the white door.

The scent of lasagna greeted me. An older woman immediately scooted over to us. She cheered: "Christine! Cliff! There you are, you little rascals!"
Then, the woman threw her arms around us. "The dinner is almost cold! Hurry up!"
"Hello", I whispered, trying to breathe. That woman had a surprisingly tight grip.

As Celine's mother jogged into the kitchen again, the blonde girl herself took a deep, shaky breath. "That's my mom", she said between clenched teeth. "A lovely person, sure. Her name is Clara, by the way."
"A lot of C's", I recognized, and a choked laugh escaped Celine's mouth. ”It's kind of a tradition“, she meant.

Clara stretched her head out of the kitchen again. ”One of you has to help me!“, she called before going back into the room.
Celine fixed me with her pleading eyes. ”You prepare the couch, I'll help your mother“, I said. ”Who's Cliff, by the way?“
”My dead uncle“, Celine said. ”She can't feel older than twenty-five right now, if she still thinks he's alive.“

I wanted to say something, but my words refused to come out. Therefore, I just nodded. ”Oh, take your shoes off“, Celine suddenly said. ”Mom gets really angry when you ruin the carpets.“
”Where can I place them?“, I asked hoarsely, slipping off my boots. Celine took them from my hand and threw them in a little cabinet; and on socks, I walked into the kitchen.

Clara instantly gave me bowls and spoons. ”You're getting soup“, she told me. ”And I don't want to hear you groan about it!“
”Don't worry, I like soup“, I told her. The mother crossed her arms in front of her chest. ”You can't play me for a fool, Cliff“, she snorted. ”Now sit down and shut your mouth.“

I knew how Celine and Clara were related. And therefore, I knew exactly what to do: I sat down and shut my mouth.

~~~

Celine cuddled herself more against my shoulder. We were watching some kind of teen drama; the kind of movie Nico absolutely loved, but would never force me to watch with him. She was binge-eating popcorn; I didn't even try to eat them too.