Page 31 of Hearts to Mend

“Us!”

“There is no us, Rico.” She still she won’t meet my eyes. She’s lying, and she knows I know she’s lying.

I’ve been able to detect her bullshit since we were eight years old. What makes this so interesting is that I know she knows I know she’s lying. Oddly enough, I consider this progress. I’ll cut my losses, for now. “Can we fuck again, at least?”

Now she looks at me, and there’s a spark there, that little twinkle of something good. She chews on her bottom lip and picks at her freckle before finally saying, “I’ll think about it.”

Sounds like yes to me.

“Wipe that stupid grin off your face before I change my answer to ‘hell no!’ “

“Yes, ma’am,” I say as I go to her, kiss her on the cheek, then head for the door. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Not if you keep calling me ma’am.” Dee gets in the last word, and I let her have it, whistling as I head down to my car.

* * *

“Did you have a good day, mijo?” mamá asks as I come into the kitchen.

“Yeah. Just dropped in to see how Dee’s doing.” I join Matty at the table where he’s coloring. I pick him up for a hug, then sit in his chair, and place him on my lap. With a kiss to the top of his head, I steal a crayon and start coloring. “How was church, buddy?”

“It was awesome! We colored.”

I’m just now noticing we’re coloring a picture of a shepherd and lamb.

Now Matty leans in, his eyes wide as he whispers loudly, “And I got to drink wine!”

“Oh you did, did you?” I ask my son, while behind him mamá shakes her head, trying not to laugh. I’m pretty sure Father Paul pours juice for communion, not wine, but I let Matty enjoy his big-kid moment. “Did you like it?”

Matty sort of shrugs, entirely focused on coloring again.

“How is Dee?” mamá sets a plate of food in front of me. Food is her love language. It’s nice, but I’m going to gain twenty pounds living with her again.

“She’s good.” I try to act casual—like I’m not remembering the feel of her, the taste of her—while I talk to my mother and my son. “She could probably use some more food though. I’m sure it’s hard for her to shop in that cast.”

Dee’s going to kill me for sending mamá over with food, but at least it will give her a reason to reach out and yell at me.

“Or, you could cook dinner for her again,” mamá suggests. I glance up from my plate of mole to see her grinning at me. “I’m sure Matty would love another evening playing with the cats.”

Matty squeals with joy. “When? When?”

Cornered, I look between them both. “We’ll see.”

At that, mamá winks at me.

Damn. I’m pretty sure she knows what I got up to with Dee this afternoon. And I think she’s encouraging me to get up to it again.

CHAPTER 13

DEE

* * *

I breathe it in, that smell of the station. Though really, it’s just the smell of coffee, some fancy flavor Watts likes to bring in. The man loves his coffee, and I’ve missed that about him. I’ve missed so much; like the sound of the weights clanking and the washing machine whirring and the guys in the kitchen cooking lunch. I’ve missed the energy of our comradery at the station and the sharp focus we share when we ride out together. I’ve missed it all.

It’s pathetic to admit, but this is my home. Just a day into my medical leave, that reality hit me hard: my apartment is where I sleep between shifts, but this is where I live. The fire service has been my whole life, for my entire adult life. On the days when I’m not on shift, I’m volunteering for all the overtime they’ll give me because this is what I love. And it’s all I have.

Normal people have lives, don’t they? Families and friends? For me, these guys are my life, my family, and my best friends. It’s a depressing admission, I guess, and one I couldn’t ignore or deny as I sat at home, alone, recovering from my injury.

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