Page 37 of Hearts to Mend

“It can dissolve the clot in his brain and stop it from causing any more damage. Oftentimes, it can even reverse the effect of the stroke and relieve symptoms. Rico’s symptoms are relatively mild: some numbness on his left side, difficulty speaking, trouble focusing his vision, and a severe headache.”

Inez looks terrified. I need to stop talking. But I add, “He’s in good hands, Inez. He’s going to be okay.”

“Thank you for being there for him.” Inez reaches across to hold my hand, her grip squeezing Rico’s dog tags tighter into my palm.

I don’t know what to say, and it’s not like I could get any words around the lump in my throat anyway. When Inez releases my hand, I stare at Rico’s tags and clear my throat. “Do you want his—?”

Inez pats my palm. “No, Dee Marie, you hold onto those for him.”

Still hovering in the doorway, Drew asks, “Inez, should I bring Mateo here?”

We both turn our attention to him as Inez considers.

Sensing her hesitation, Drew quickly offers, “Or he can have a slumber party with the cats tonight.”

Inez’s expression lightens. “You wouldn’t mind? I know it is a lot to ask—”

“Nonsense. He’s a good kid, and the cats love all the attention he gives them. We’d be happy to host him for a cat slumber party.” Drew crosses the room and hugs Inez, his big arms completely cocooning her.

When he wraps those big arms around me next, I take a deep breath and let some of my tension go. Quietly, he assures me, “He’ll be okay.”

I don’t know why I needed to hear that so much, but I did. As a firefighter—and a trained EMT—I know we got him here quickly, and the hospital is treating him in a thorough and timely manner, all important in the case of a stroke. But I think I needed someone else to say those words—he’ll be okay—before I could truly believe them.

“All right. I’m heading back to the house. You both have my number. Call when you have news or want me to bring Mateo here in the morning.” Drew backs out of the doorway, and then it’s just Inez and me in the patient room, which feels too large without the patient in it.

I glance over at Inez. She looks terrified, her posture rigid, her knuckles strained where she’s squeezing her purse tightly. I reach over, trying to coax her to relax her grip.

Using Drew’s comforting words, I say, “He’s going to be okay.”

She forces a grin at me, like she appreciates the effort, but she tells me, “His father died of a stroke.”

“Oh.” How had I forgotten about that?

“He was only fifty. I’ve been worried about my boys ever since. But I never thought it would be Ricky…”

She drifts off, and a heavy pall of silence fills the room. I should say something more, comfort her, but I’m too stunned as I remember when Rico got the news of his father’s death. They’d called him out of class that day, and then he didn’t come back. I’d ridden my bike all the way over to his house, then beyond it up the hill to our tree. I’d found him there, trying not to cry.

“Do they know what caused Manny Senior’s stroke?”

Inez looks at me and shakes her head.

I don’t want to pry, but I’m not sure what to say next. I know she’s worried, but telling her that stroke treatments have improved significantly in the years since her husband’s death feels like the wrong thing to say right now. I think what we both need is the quiet.

We don’t get it. There’s a clamor at the door, heralding Rico’s return. I stand from my chair at the same time Inez stands from hers, both of us angling for a view of him, some glimpse to give us hope that our Rico is okay.

When he sees us there and smiles a little, that’s when it hits me like a mallet to the head: Goddammit! I fucking love Rico. I always have. I always will.

His first words upon seeing us both are, “Where’s Matty? Is he okay?”

And wouldn’t you know, that just makes me fall more in love with him.

“He’s going to have a cat slumber party at Drew and Chloe’s house tonight,” I tell him.

Rico slowly nods, seeming to relax a little.

Inez goes to his side, touching his face like he’s still her baby boy, sick in bed. She clutches his hand to her chest and asks. “¿Mijo, estás bien?”

“Si, mamá, estoy bien.”

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