Page 52 of Hearts to Mend

My guilt rachets up further. It’s been difficult to talk to Matty about his Mom’s incarceration. How do you explain the concept of prison to a six-year-old kid? In two years, when his mom is up for parole, he’ll be old enough that we can discuss what happened, and he can decide if he’ll have a relationship with her or not. Until then, I should probably find a qualified family therapist to help us navigate these fears he’s feeling.

Noted.

For now, I simply say, “I won’t go away. I’m here to stay. I promise. So stop your worrying, and let’s get some sleep. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He seems at ease, like all he needed were some comforting words he could trust. And, God, I hope he can trust my words. I hope Mateo has his dad for many decades to come. I know what it’s like to grow up without a father, and Matty is already having to learn what it’s like to grow up without a mother. I need to be okay, for him.

“I love you, Daddy.”

I kiss the top of his head. “I love you, too, Matty. With all my heart.”

CHAPTER 21

DEE

* * *

It’s been a long shift. What is it about the dog days of summer? Like the whole state of Texas spontaneously combusts, and we’re running around putting out the fires—literally and otherwise.

“Take a small sip of water, Mr. Suarez,” I instruct the eighty-two-year-old man as he sits on a bench in the scant shade of a live oak tree in front of the county courthouse. Drew applies a cold compress to the back of his neck while we wait for EMS to transport him to the hospital for treatment of heat exhaustion.

There are too many elders in this town without air-conditioning. I have half a mind to play the lotto, win, and use my winnings to buy everyone some cold air.

As an ambulance pulls to the curb, a familiar Dodge Charger slides up behind it, and out pops my favorite local reporter.

“Dee, handle the press,” Watts orders, and everyone chuckles.

I roll my eyes as I walk across the crispy courthouse lawn, eyeing Rico up and down. The way he slants his head and watches me, the way he leans against the hood of his Charger: God, he’s a hunk. Like an old-school hunk. Like that 1970s Cosmo centerfold of Burt Reynolds but clothed, with more muscles, and less body hair.

Then his passenger door pops open, and a woman in a summer dress and a floppy sun hat steps out. For a millisecond—one of the longest milliseconds of my adult life—my mind rockets to all the worst conclusions. Is this Mateo’s mom, back to claim her family? Or is this some other woman who owns a piece of his heart? Is he here to hurt me…again?

That’s when a fluffy little white cloud of a dog hops out of the car and circles the woman’s feet, wagging his tail and barking excitedly. Oh, holy shit, is this who I think it is?

The woman approaches, and her little dog follows. I crouch, and the curious fella comes right over to me, letting me scoop him up into a hug.

“Leroy, look at you! So handsome without all that smoky soot in your fur.”

“Thanks to you,” the woman, who I now recognize as Pamela from the bathtub, says.

I twist my neck this way and that to keep Leroy from licking my mouth as I casually reply, “Just part of the job.”

Technically, it was not part of the job. In fact, I went against direct orders when I went in search of Leroy. Watts gave me hell about it once I was out of the hospital. But the injury and the reprimand feel worth it to me now as I cuddle this wiggly little lovebug in my arms.

“Well, it’s hero’s work to me,” Pamela says as she hugs me, squeezing her dog between us. “I’m forever grateful that you saved my baby. Thank you. Thank you. A thousand times, thank you.”

The hot weather pinks my cheeks, and the blinding sun makes my eyes water. That’s what it is. I’m certainly not blushing with embarrassment and on the verge of tears.

With the paramedics tending to Mr. Suarez, my crew comes over to greet Pamela and love on Leroy. If Drew is our Catman, then Rooster is the Dog Dude of our crew. The guy adores every dog he meets, and Leroy is no exception. He pulls the squirmy little pooch out of my arms to get him all hyped-up with head scratches and baby talk.

I take the opportunity to slip away from the crowd to where Rico watches everything from the shade. “I was interviewing her for a follow-up to the fire piece, and she mentioned wanting to thank you for what you did.”

I nod and mimic his pose, my arms crossed over my chest, watching the action from here. He leans in, just enough that I hear him when he whispers, “Just so you know, I saw the flash of jealousy in your eyes.”

I don’t give him the reaction he wants. I don’t give him any reaction at all. Nope. No reaction. Just watching my crew cuddle a dog.

“You thought I was with another woman, didn’t you?”

---