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He stood and left the room without another word. He found Mrs. Rodriguez wringing her hands as she paced the hallway. She rushed over to him. “What did he say?”
Mateo shook his head. “He won’t give up the names of the gang members that were there with him. And I can’t help him if he’s not willing to divulge that information to me or the judge.” He put a hand on her shoulder as she started to cry. “He’s looking at about a year in juvenile hall.”
She grasped his hand in both of hers. “He can’t go back to that place. Last time, he had nightmares for a month after getting out. I can’t let them put my baby in there again.”
“This is his third offense, Mrs. Rodriguez. The judge won’t be lenient. Even if Scotty does tell us the names of his friends, he’s still going to jail.”
He opened the door to the interrogation room and ushered her in. Scotty sprinted into his mother’s arms. Mateo shut the door behind him and walked away, feeling tired of seeing the same story play out time and again.
He walked to the end of the hallway and stared out the window and rested his hands on the sill. After a few minutes, he heard a door open, and he turned to find Mrs. Rodriguez wiping her eyes with a tissue. She looked up as he approached. “What’s next?”
“We meet with the judge in the morning, and Scotty will stay in lockup here until then.”
She nodded and glanced at the door. “Thank you, Mr. Lopez. I know you will do your best for my son.”
He feared that his best wouldn’t keep Scotty out of jail, though.
Despondent, he left the police station and drove to visit with friends, hoping that he could find some cheer. He parked in front of Dez and Sherri’s house and walked up to the front door. His cousin Sherri answered his knock and smiled at him. “Hey, you’re just in time for dinner. You must have some kind of sixth sense about these things.” She gave him her cheek to kiss then let him pass, shutting the screen door behind him.
“More like you always eat at seven during the week.”
“We’re eating out on the deck since it’s such a nice night.”
Mateo followed her through the living room to the kitchen, noticing how her hair was slowly returning after a recent bout of chemotherapy and radiation for breast cancer. She looked well. Last he’d heard she was beating the disease, unlike his mom, who had lost her own battle years ago.
He swallowed at the memory and brightened as he found Sherri’s husband, Dez, singing along with the radio as he dressed a green salad. He raised his eyes to Mateo’s and grinned. They clasped hands and bumped chests. “What brings you by?”
He shrugged and glanced around the homey kitchen. Wasn’t too long ago that Dez had been a bachelor like him. Now his friend had married and adopted a teenager. He looked good in his role as husband and father. Mateo ignored the sharp stirring of jealousy. “It’s been a rough day. Was hoping to hang out for a bit with you guys.”
“Sure, sure.” Dez took a platter of raw meat and then pointed at the bowl of salad. “Come out on the deck while I grill these burgers. And bring that with you.”
Mateo retrieved the salad bowl and followed Dez. Out on the paved patio, Dez put the burgers on the steaming grill and took a seat at the table under the neon green umbrella. He pushed out a chair with his foot. “Tell me what’s going on that has you so troubled.”
Mateo placed the bowl on the table and sighed as he dropped into the chair. “A client. Too young, too full of himself.”
“You’re not going to ask me to mentor him, too, are you?”
Over the years, Mateo had reached out to male friends like Dez who had come out of impossible situations to make a better life for themselves. Dez had mentored several young men—one was currently thriving in the military and serving in Afghanistan at the moment. Marcus, Dez and Sherri’s adopted son, had also avoided a life in a gang and had finished the past year at school on the honor roll.
Mateo replied, “No.” And put his head in his hands. “There’s too many who need help. I feel like I’m trying to shore up a dam that’s already burst. Why do I even try to help them?”
Dez leaned over and put a hand on his shoulder. “You do it because you love it. And you care about them.”
“I’m not sure how much longer I can. Disillusionment is my constant companion.”
Dez chuckled at his comment and stood to check on the burgers. “Well, if you leave your law career, you can give poetry a try.”
“Funny.”
The sliding door opened, and Sherri appeared with two longneck bottles of beer. She handed one to Mateo. “You looked like you might appreciate a drink.”
“Thanks.”
She turned and handed the other bottle to Dez, then kissed his cheek before returning inside the house.
“You’re a lucky man,” he said.
“You could be, too.” Dez pointed to Mateo with his beer bottle. “And I know just the woman. One of Sherri’s friends is interested in you.”
Mateo waved off any suggestion of romance. “I’m married to my job, futile as it seems to be.”
“She’d be a nice distraction. If nothing else, you could try those poetic words on her.”
Sherri returned with a stack of plates and silverware rolled into cloth napkins. She handed them to Mateo, who stood and set the table. As he finished, Marcus stepped outside and his face lit up at Mateo’s presence. “Uncle Matty, what’s up?” asked Marcus.
The boy gave him a hug and took a seat next to him. “Sherri...I mean, Mom didn’t say you were coming to dinner.”
“Last-minute invite.”
Dez served the burgers and they chatted as they passed dishes around the table, filling their plates. Mateo took a huge bite of salad when Dez asked Sherri, “What’s the name of that friend who likes Mateo?”
Sherri punched him in the shoulder. “I told you that in confidence. And it’s just an impression I got by some things she’s said.”
Dez rubbed where her fist had made contact. “I didn’t know it was a secret.”
Mateo lowered his fork. “You guys, I appreciate that you’re thinking of me but I’m not looking to date right now. I’ve got too much going on.”
“When have you ever had time to date?” Sherri scowled at him as she motioned to Marcus to wipe his mouth. “Seems to me, you went straight from studying in school, on to the bar and now you’re trying to save every kid on the street. One date wouldn’t hurt you.”
Her phone buzzed, and she took it from her pocket and glanced at it. “Speaking of which, she’s here to drop something off.” She pointed at Mateo. “Be nice to her.”
Mateo glanced at Dez. “Sherri invited her over?”
“She didn’t say anything to me about it.” Dez stood as Sherri ushered a thin, bald woman out on to the patio. He snapped his fingers. “That’s it. Her name’s Page.”
Page glanced at Mateo and blushed. “I didn’t know you had company, Sherri. I just wanted to drop off that book we talked about at the meeting the other night.” She handed it to his cousin and paused, looking between them. “Well, enjoy your dinner.”
Sherri put her arm around Page’s shoulders. “Don’t rush off. Join us. We have plenty of food.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I haven’t been able to eat much lately.” She gave Sherri a quick hug and left.
Dez pointed in the direction Page had gone. “That’s her. You’d like her, Mateo. She’s funny and smart. And you know that’s a deadly combination for guys like us.”
He remembered dancing with her at a party a couple of months ago. She’d been standing alone, watching the others, so he’d invited her to dance with him. It had been one song and then they’d parted ways. To be honest, she was just his type of woman. Dez had been right when he said that funny and smart was an irresistible combination. But he couldn’t do it. “No offense, but I’m not looking to date someone dying from cancer.”
The patio door opened and Page was standing there. Mateo felt like groaning, and he hoped she hadn’t heard him, but her expression told him she had. She handed a pair of sunglasses to Sherri. “You forgot these in my car.” She turned to Mateo. “And I’m fighting cancer, not dying from it. Goodbye, again.”
Sherri winced and then ran after Page, while Dez shook his head. “Not cool, man.”
“I didn’t know she was right there.” He’d come off as a jerk and he knew it. “But I meant what I said. I don’t want to get involved with anyone fighting cancer. You know my history.”
His mom had died from breast cancer when he was a teenager. He’d watched her fade away day after day. When Sherri had been diagnosed last year, he’d feared the same fate would befall her. Instead, she’d fought and won. He only wished his mother had won her fight, too.
Dez nodded toward the door. “Still, you should apologize to her before she leaves.”
He knew it was the right thing to do. He found Sherri and Page talking in the living room. Sherri gave him a smile before she excused herself, touching his arm as she walked past him. He came forward to face the other woman. “Page, I apologize for what I said out there.”
“Which part? Where you said you wouldn’t date me? Or when you said I was dying?”
He cocked his head to the side and studied her. She looked rail-thin, and the hollows in her cheeks were deep, like those he remembered seeing in his mom’s face. But Page’s eyes snapped with vitality and anger. She was even cute in her black T-shirt that had a lace edge along the bottom and hot pink nail polish on her toes that peeked out of her black sandals. He looked at her directly. “Both?”
She rolled her eyes. “Goodbye, Mateo.”
She turned on her heel and he followed her outside to her car. “Page, wait! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
She stared at him, and he felt as if she was trying to read him. “When you look at me, all you see is cancer. But that’s just something that I have. You don’t really see me, and I wish you would.”
She got into her car and drove off. He watched her leave and then returned to the backyard. When he took his seat, Sherri cocked an eyebrow, and he gave her a shrug. “I apologized.”
Dez took a swig from his beer bottle and pointed at him with it. “You’d be lucky to date that woman, cancer or not. I speak from experience when I say that loving a woman who has survived the worst, only makes life more precious.”
Sherri smiled and put a hand on Dez’s forearm. “It makes you appreciate what you have for as long as you can.”
Mateo sighed and put his napkin back on his lap. “I’m not interested in anyone right now. That’s the truth.”
Sherri stared at him for a minute before reaching out and grabbing his hand. “Okay. We won’t push.” A smile played around her mouth. “We’ll leave that to the aunties.”
Mateo groaned in mock horror but then returned her smile with one of his own. Truth was, Page intrigued him. And though she’d left, the memory of her lingered in his mind.
* * *
PAGE LOOKED DOWN at the speedometer and eased her foot off the accelerator. She’d been driving at forty miles an hour in a 25-mile-per-hour zone. Breathe in, breathe out, she reminded herself, trying to calm her racing heart.
Mateo’s words still echoed in her brain. He didn’t date someone who was dying. She tried to shake off the disappointment, but what he’d said still stuck. She’d always thought he was hot, after having seen him at Sherri’s party last year and then again at April’s a couple of months ago. She’d nearly swooned when he’d asked her to dance. Had reveled in the feeling of his strong arms around her, his hand at her waist. Then the song had been over and he’d moved on. But she’d dreamed of that dance ever since.
She pulled up in front of April’s house and let her car idle for a moment before shutting it off. She got out, walked up to the front door and entered without knocking. “Okay, I’m here. The party can begin.”
April glanced up from the box she’d been packing and squinted. “Have you been crying?”
“What? No. I don’t cry.” She peered at her reflection in the mirror on the wall behind her. She appeared a little sad maybe, but no tears. “Where do you want me to start?”
“Knowing your organizational skills, I left the kitchen for you.” They entered the room together and surveyed the empty boxes waiting to be filled. April sighed. “I can’t believe I’m leaving this place. I’m going to miss it.”
“You’re only moving two blocks over. It isn’t the ends of the earth.”
April had recently gotten engaged to Zach Harrison and would be marrying her fiancé in less than a month. Her friend picked up a box and took it to the nearest counter. “He wants to keep his dishes because he grew up using them. Fine, we can donate mine. But I want my coffeemaker and mug collection. Other than that, I’m not sure what else to bring with me.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me to bring whatever makes me happy.” She looked around the kitchen. “But it all makes me happy.”
Page pointed at a spoon that had a slightly bent handle. “Even that old thing?”
April clutched the spoon to her chest. “I eat my morning cereal with it. It’s my favorite.” She chuckled. “Can you believe I’m getting married? Me? Last year at this time I had just finished chemo and was counting down the days to my reconstruction surgery.”
Page put her arm around April’s shoulders. “You deserve all this happiness and more.”
“I am happy with him.” Her eyes got a dreamy look, then she sighed. “Have you decided who you’re bringing to the wedding?”
Page snorted. If there was anything she hadn’t thought about it was a date for the upcoming nuptials. “What’s wrong with coming alone? Besides, as maid of honor, I’ll be too busy taking care of you to think about a date.”
“What about Mateo?” April waggled her eyebrows. “Have you thought about asking him? I’m sure he’d say yes.”
And Page was just as sure he’d refuse. He didn’t date someone dying from cancer. Okay, she had to let that go. But like it or not, the words had hit their mark. “He wouldn’t be interested.”
April crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know. I saw the way the two of you were dancing at my party.”
“Just drop it, okay? Me and Mateo are never going to happen.” She opened a cupboard and started to pull out plates.
“But I thought you liked him.”
She paused from wrapping a plate in newspaper and considered her friend’s words. “I think he’s good-looking.”
“And that’s all there is? You just think he’s hot?”
Page put the wrapped plate in a box and leaned against the counter. “No. I think he’s smart. He’s a great lawyer, according to Sherri. And I like him.” She picked up another plate. “But nothing’s going to happen. He doesn’t like me.”
Maybe if she kept repeating that, she’d believe it. And give up the dream of pursuing something with Mateo. She was dying, after all.
CHAPTER TWO (#ua9e4af90-5d66-5641-a76d-f6b5304ca10b)
THERE WAS NOTHING like helping bring a baby into the world. Despite the blood and mess and chaos, no moment felt better to Page. She carefully took the newborn from Dr. Angela Achatz and carried her to the new mom, who wept as Page placed the baby on her chest. “Congratulations,” she whispered, as the mom turned her head to share the moment with her husband.
She watched as the couple had eyes only for their infant girl and each other. Page banished the bitter thought of never having that moment herself and returned to aiding the doctor with the afterbirth. Ever since she’d heard about Chad and his girlfriend expecting a baby, the elation Page usually felt at each birth had dimmed a little. She had started to feel hollow, rather than filled with the usual happiness she’d experienced before.
Dr. Achatz peered at her. “Are you okay, nurse? You look a little pale.”
Page tried to smile and nodded. “Yep. I’ll take the mother and baby to postnatal. Then I’ll check on the status of the mom’s room.”
“Tiffany can do that.” Dr. Achatz motioned to one of the other nurses, who nodded and walked over to the couple to let them know the next steps. “I was hoping you and I could have a chat.”
Page hated to hear what the OB-GYN doctor would need to talk to her about. She knew Dr. Achatz didn’t like that she’d reduced her working hours, but the chemotherapy left her tired and in a brain fog. She’d spoken to her supervisor, Joann, about her fears that her fatigue and weakness would result in her making a mistake or miss a doctor’s orders. She refused to put her patients in harm’s way when she knew the risks involved for herself. She rearranged the instruments that the doctor had used for the labor on the surgical tray.
Her stalling tactic didn’t work. Dr. Achatz crooked her finger at Page and pointed at the sinks, where she started to remove her gloves and wash her hands. “How are you really feeling, Page?”
She got really bored of hearing that same question from well-meaning friends. And was even more tired of repeating the same answer. “Better than the last few days.”
“When is your next infusion?”
