Her Kind of Hero Page 9

  “My father was killed in an accident on a construction site. I was eleven and my mother had just learned she was pregnant with my sister.”

  Slowing down for traffic as they got closer to the city, Dana looked at him. “How awful for you and your mother.”

  “It was tough, but she was still working at the time so there was some money coming in, along with the compensation money from my father’s employer. But then she had to go on maternity leave after my sister, Rosie, was born. There were some lean years.” He smiled at her. “But all those hard years are long past.”

  “We both lost a parent at a formative stage in our lives,” Dana mused. “Something else we have in common.”

  “True.”

  “You’d better direct me now that we’re in the city,” she said, focusing her attention back to her driving.

  “Sure. Do you mind taking me to my mom’s place? She’s expecting me for dinner.”

  “I can take you wherever you like.”

  “Great. We’re going to Pilsen and you need to take the next exit ramp.”

  * * *

  DANA PULLED INTO the drive of a pretty bungalow on a quiet, tree-lined street.

  “I’ve read lots of articles about this area but haven’t managed to see any of it yet. I guess it’s undergone some changes over the years?”

  “Yeah. Gentrification. It’s everywhere. Living here wouldn’t be an option if we tried to buy the house now.”

  “Did you grow up here?”

  “Not in this house. My parents rented an apartment farther away, but still in Pilsen. Mom and Rosie moved here not long after I was discharged from the army.” He unfastened his seat belt and opened the car door. “Thanks for the lift, Dana. I really appreciate it.”

  “Sure. If you like, I could drive you back to the camp tomorrow. You know—” she heard the slight stammer in her voice and slowed down “—to get your car fixed. Or towed. Or something.”

  He stopped, one foot on the cement driveway. “I can always hitch a ride out there with Sandro or Kristen. But thanks, I’m sure you have things to do.”

  She did, but nothing that was as appealing as spending more time in Matt’s company. The sudden thought surprised her. She was tired from the weekend, as short as it had been, and longed for a hot bath. Yet saying goodbye right at that moment was difficult.

  Matt stood up and began to walk toward the house when Dana heard him talking to someone. She craned her neck to see a figure standing behind the screen door. Matt was shaking his head, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. Then he stepped back to the car and bent down to her opened window.

  “My mother’s invited you for dinner, but don’t feel you have to. I can tell her you need to get home.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “It’s up to you. She’s a good cook but the food might be spicy.”

  Dana hated these kinds of awkward social situations. Did he want her to stay or was he as indifferent as his expression suggested? Still, this was her chance to learn more about him. “I like spicy.”

  “Okay.” He waved to the person behind the screen and opened Dana’s door.

  Dana got out, clicked the lock remote and followed him up a short sidewalk, noticing a wooden ramp winding up to one side of a small porch. If Matt saw her stare at the ramp, he didn’t comment, bounding up the three cement steps of the porch.

  A petite young woman with short curly dark hair opened the screen door. “Hi! I’m Rosie, Matt’s sister.” She held out her right hand.

  “This is Dana,” Matt said. “She’s volunteering at Camp Hope for a couple of weekends.”

  “Nice to meet you, Rosie.” Dana shook hands, aware of the pressure of Matt’s hand on her back as she followed his sister into a tiny living room. It was smaller than Dana’s bedroom, but it was cozy, with colorful cushions and crocheted throws on the backs of a love seat flanked by end tables with lamps and two armchairs on either side of an oval-shaped wood coffee table. She noted an arrangement of framed photographs on one of the end tables but resisted checking it out for images of a young Matt, for fear of appearing nosy.

  “Ma said to have a seat and she’ll be with you two in a sec,” Rosie was saying. Then to Matt, she added, “We’re having carnitas with all the trimmings.” To Dana, she explained, “Roast pork, Hispanic-style, but with Ma’s own take on it.”

  “Sounds delicious.”

  “Just warning you,” Matt put in, “Mom cooks for—”

  “A family, not an army. And it all gets eaten. Maybe not the same day, but the next for sure.”

  Dana swung round to see a woman about the same height as Rosie, with short gray hair styled in a trim bob and wearing slacks topped by a floral blouse.

  “I’m Esperanza,” she said, “mother of these two big teases, who never have trouble polishing off leftovers.”

  Dana shook her hand. “It was lovely of you to invite me.”

  “My pleasure. I didn’t realize Mati had arrived with someone until Rosie spotted you. Car trouble?” She looked from Dana to Matt.

  “Yep. Had to leave it at the camp.”

  “Time to get a new one,” Rosie piped up.

  “Sure.”

  His tone implied that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon and Dana barely caught a quick exchange of frowns between the siblings before Esperanza shooed them toward the kitchen, saying to Dana, “Dinner’s ready because I knew Mati would want to eat and run—as he always does these days,” she added, shooting him a glare that Dana saw at once was teasing. “Otherwise we’d have drinks and appetizers first in here.”

  “Sure, Ma,” Rosie said. “We’ve never had more than a cup of tea or a glass of water in this room.”

  Esperanza waved a dismissive hand, and they all headed into the kitchen, which was compact, with just enough room for a table and four chairs in one corner as well as small sections of counter around the stove and refrigerator. Pots and utensils hung everywhere, and shelves, spilling over with condiments, cookbooks and knickknacks, appeared to have been randomly installed on whatever wall surface was available. Dana wondered how a person could prepare a big meal in such a limited space, but the mouthwatering aroma of roasted meat and spices proved Esperanza could.

  As Dana squeezed behind the table, she spotted a pair of aluminum crutches with elbow supports leaning in the corner between the fridge and the kitchen door. They clearly went with the person who needed the wheelchair ramp. Did someone else live here?

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Matt said in a low voice as he sat in the chair next to her.

  “Starving is more like it,” she whispered.

  Esperanza was filling plates at the stove while Rosie took down glasses from a cupboard next to the fridge. “The usual, Matt?”

  “Please.”

  “Dana, we’ve got iced tea, sparkling mineral water and just plain old tap water.”

  “Tap water’s good for me. That’s basically what I drink at home.” Though from a name-brand water filter and cooler, a fact she didn’t share.

  Rosie brought iced tea, which she set before Matt, and water for Dana. When she turned to collect the glasses she’d poured for her and her mother, Dana noticed a slight misstep, as if she was about to lose her balance.

  “Rosie, forget our drinks for now and take this to Dana,” Esperanza said, half turning from the stove and holding out a plate. “I’ve given you a bit of everything, Dana, but just eat what you want. And there’s always more.”

  Rosie laughed, “No pressure, Dana, but if you don’t have seconds we might be eating carnitas all week.” Then to her mother, she said, “I can take Matt’s plate, too.”

  Esperanza shook her head. “One at a time.”

  There was a brief, silent standoff as the two women eyed each other until Rosie mumbled, “Whatever.”

  The
plate wobbled slightly as Rosie carried it the short distance to the table. Dana noticed a hesitation in her gait, as if she were navigating an icy sidewalk rather than the tiled kitchen floor. “Enjoy,” she said as she placed a plate of steaming roast pork, black beans and rice, and some kind of wilted leafy green vegetable in front of Dana.

  “This looks amazing,” Dana said, leaning into the wafts of heat and fragrances.

  “Go ahead and start,” Esperanza ordered. “There’s salad, too, in the fridge.” She looked across the room at Matt.

  “I’ll get it, Ma,” Rosie said, but Matt stopped her.

  “Rosie, you sit. I haven’t done anything.” Matt pushed his chair back and went to help his mother.

  Rosie opened her mouth as if to protest but simply sighed, taking the seat opposite Dana. Then she smiled at Dana. “There’s no arguing with Matt and Ma.”

  The flare in her eyes belied the lightness in her voice.

  Matt came back juggling a salad bowl as well as side dishes of salsa and tortillas. He and Esperanza crowded around the table and the dinner began, quietly at first until the teasing and laughter resumed.

  Dana ate and watched, taking in every joke and especially the occasional childhood anecdote featuring Matt...or Mati, as his mother called him. Much later, after ice cream and coffee, Dana and Matt started clearing the table while Esperanza stowed leftovers in the fridge.

  “Mati?” his mother asked, holding up an empty food container.

  Matt groaned. “Not today, Mom. I’ll be at the camp most of this week.”

  “They don’t have a microwave there?”

  Rosie, coming from the table with more dirty dishes, snickered.

  “How about you, Dana?” Esperanza asked.

  “I’m not sure what my plans are this week. Thank you anyway, but I better not.”

  “Actually, I need to discuss something with you about this week,” Matt said.

  “Oh?”

  “Why don’t you two take a break?” suggested Rosie. “Ma and I have got this.”

  “Okay.” Matt jerked his head in the direction of the living room. Dana followed him and sat on the love seat.

  “Something came up at the camp just before we left. I got a message from our office manager, Maria, that her little boy has the flu. She can’t come in at all this week, maybe not even the next. I know you were expecting to volunteer just for a couple of weekends, and this is not the kind of work you usually do, but do you suppose you might be able to come to the camp for this week, to fill in for her? I’ll be there, too, to give you a hand. It would mean answering the phone, sending some emails out, plus going through the list of kids for next weekend and comparing names to permission forms.”

  Dana didn’t need to consider his proposal more than a second. The key phrase “I’ll be there” stuck out. “I’m sorry to hear about Maria’s little boy and for sure I can help,” she said. “I did office work for my Dad while I was in college.”

  “Great,” he said, smiling broadly. “Thank you.”

  “Maybe I should get going, then. I have some things to take care of when I get back to my place.” Replying to her father’s text and email messages would be necessary now that she wouldn’t be going into the office in the morning. He still hadn’t grasped the idea that time off was exactly that.

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Dana popped back into the kitchen to thank his mother and sister again and say goodbye. The two women were deep in discussion, but Esperanza paused to say, “Come back soon.”

  The sun was setting as Matt walked beside her down the ramp. “This way’s a bit shorter.”

  “Has it always been here? The ramp?” she asked, giving in to her curiosity.

  “Sandro and I built it last summer. For Rosie.” He saw the question in her face and explained, “She has multiple sclerosis. Got diagnosed ten years ago, when she was sixteen.”

  “Oh.” Dana wondered how much more Matt’s family had endured.

  “But she has the slow progressive form of it,” he hastened to say. “Right now, she’s in remission and doesn’t need to use any supports.” When they reached the driver side of her car, he said, “My mother—and I confess I do it, too—tends to hover a bit. We watch out for her, making sure she doesn’t do too much.”

  The hovering part Dana could totally relate to, except Brent would have been pushing hard for her to try everything rather than take it easy. She looked up into Matt’s face, creased in thought, and pictured an eleven-year-old boy taking on his family’s worries. “She’s lucky to have you for an older brother,” she said, placing her hand on his where it rested atop the open car door.

  He flipped his hand over, clasping hers and folding it to his chest as he drew her close. When he ducked his head to lightly kiss her forehead, Dana leaned against him, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart. She could have stayed there forever, except for the sudden thought that curious eyes might be watching from the house.

  “I should go,” she said shakily, pulling back from his embrace.

  “I guess,” he murmured.

  As she was climbing into the car, she asked, “How will you get to your own place tonight?”

  “Mom’s making up a bed in the spare room.” He looked almost disappointed and Dana had to smile.

  “And tomorrow?”

  He frowned. “I’ve got something to do in the morning. Can I text you when I’m finished? Maybe we could meet at the center and you could give me a ride out to the camp.”

  “Perfect.” She got behind the wheel and turned over the engine, watching him walk back up onto the porch. Backing out, she chanced a last look in the rearview mirror to where he stood in the door, staring back.

  The evening played through Dana’s mind all the way home. The easy banter and informality, the tension and the laughter, the memories and the plans. Something she’d never really had with her father. A family.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “WHAT’S THE SCOOP on Dana Sothern?”

  “Huh?” Matt looked up from the magazine he was thumbing through in the medical center waiting room.

  Rosie grinned. “Don’t play Mr. Innocent with me, brother.”

  “Seriously, I don’t know what you’re hinting at.”

  “You seemed a little chummy with a volunteer you’ve only known a few days. I got the feeling there was some history there.”

  History indeed. “That’s your overactive imagination at work, Rosie. Volunteering at a kids’ camp was a whole new experience for Dana. She just needed some encouragement, that’s all.”

  “Umm, the kind of encouragement that might have led to something more...active, as you would say?”

  “What kind of encouragement are we talking about here?” A stern frown failed to deter his sister.

  “Do you kiss all your new volunteers?”

  “That’s not funny and spying on people isn’t either.”

  She rolled her eyes but said nothing, picking up a magazine. Matt knew she was ticked off at his remark and felt especially bad because her intuition about the kiss was spot-on. Aiming for the forehead had been a last-minute move. Dana’s lips had been a lot more inviting, but he’d feared crossing a line. She was a volunteer and soon would be out of his life. Something he needed to remember.

  He was about to apologize to Rosie when his mother came into the waiting room followed by her doctor. Matt and Rosie stood up, hovering as Esperanza finished talking to her doctor, who was writing on a piece of paper. She handed the paper to the receptionist before returning to her office.

  Unable to wait a second longer, Matt went to Esperanza. “What’s happening?”

  She ignored him, took some papers from the receptionist and walked toward the waiting room exit. Matt shrugged at Rosie and they followed Esperanza outside, where she tucked the papers i
nto her purse. “Information for me,” she quickly explained.

  “Okay, Ma,” Matt said. “And I understand your desire for privacy, but we also need to know what the doctor said.”

  “It’s all good. Not to worry. She says just a lumpectomy and some radiation treatments afterward.”

  Matt’s breath wheezed out of him. “Okay, okay,” he murmured while Rosie hugged Esperanza. “So when?”

  “A couple of weeks, maybe sooner.”

  About when Camp Hope was scheduled to open full-time for the summer.

  “It’s not a big deal, Mati. I could be out of the hospital the day after.”

  She knew what he’d been thinking and was trying to reassure him, which made him feel worse. He bent down to kiss her on the cheek. “You won’t be alone through any part of this.”

  Esperanza patted his cheek. “Well, you two have work to go to and because I’m retired, I get to go home and put my feet up.”

  “I’ll call you a taxi,” Matt said, pulling his cell phone from the back of his jeans pocket.

  “No, no. Here comes my bus.” She hastened to the curb before either Matt or Rosie could stop her. “Bye. Home for dinner tonight, Rosie?”

  “Sure, Mama. See you then.” Rosie waved as her mother stepped onto the bus, then said, “I was out of line earlier, Matt. You have a right to privacy. But for the record, I was closing the drapes for Mama.” She sounded sorry but wasn’t looking at him.

  “Thanks, Rosie. I know you weren’t really spying and for the record, don’t read too much into what you saw. Dana has her own issues. She needed cheering up.”

  Rosie turned her head, nodding thoughtfully. “She seemed upbeat at dinner.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s—”

  “Complicated?”

  “As they say,” he teased. She turned to go, and he asked, “Aren’t we taking the bus?”

  “I’ll walk to the subway from here. Faster.”

  She didn’t bother waving goodbye and Matt knew she was still annoyed. Over breakfast they’d planned to bus together to the South Side, where Rosie would take a subway line downtown and Matt would head to KidsFirst, where he’d arranged to meet Dana for a ride to the camp.