Читать книгу Finding Her Family - Syndi Powell - Страница 9
ОглавлениеON A HUMID late July day in Detroit, Page Kosinski paused at the intersection and waited for the light to turn so she could cross the street. The coffee shop where she had agreed to meet her ex-husband, Chad, was up ahead. He’d called and said he had something to tell her. Begged her to meet him at their once favorite place. She wondered what he was about to tell her. Did he want to get back together?
She had to admit that she’d thought about it herself every once in a while, but then she reminded herself that she didn’t need him to mess with her life or her heart anymore. The thing she really missed was being part of a couple. Her pride would never let her admit it to anyone, especially her best friend, April, but she liked having someone to come home to. She liked waking up with him every morning and going to bed with him every night. She liked knowing she had a standing date on New Year’s Eve and Valentine’s Day. She reveled in being one half of a group of two. Her marriage to Chad had hardly been the stuff of fairy tales, but at least he had been there. For a while anyway.
The light turned and she hurried to cross the street. She didn’t want to seem too anxious, but she was running late as usual. She opened the door to the coffee shop and groaned at the sight of him waiting at a table. With his perfectly coiffed blond hair and chiseled features, Chad didn’t have the right to look so handsome, although the scruffy chin was new. He stood and moved the chair opposite his out for her. He kissed her cheek. “You look...different, Page.”
She reached up and touched her bald head. She knew exactly how she looked—like someone fighting cancer. She’d beaten it twice, but it had come back a third time in her ovaries. She only had a few months of chemo left, and then she’d find out if it was gone for good. “You look like you always do.”
She took a seat, and he left to order their coffees. He didn’t need to ask what she wanted since she always ordered the same thing. She didn’t like surprises.
He returned with their drinks, and she put her hands around the mug in order to give them something to do. “How are you, Chad?”
“Good. Really good.” He looked her over. “Should I even ask how you’re doing?”
“Why would you? You never liked hearing about all the icky details of my cancer when we were married. That was an inconvenience to your precious life.” He winced at her sharp tone, and she regretted the words after they were out. They might be true, but he clearly wanted some kind of truce. She swallowed her bitterness by taking a sip of her coffee. “On the phone you said you had some news.”
He shifted in his seat and looked out the window before turning to face her. “I wanted to be the first to tell you before you heard it from anyone else.”
Oh. She gripped the mug tighter. “Are you getting married to her?” Her being the anti-Page: blonde, bubbly and buxom. She couldn’t even say her name.
Chad ducked his head. “Nikki and I are getting married next month.”
“So soon? What is she, pregnant?” She smirked at the thought of Chad with kids when he was little more than a child himself. He blushed and was unable to meet her gaze. The bottom fell out of Page’s stomach. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Get out.”
His perfect features hardened into a familiar scowl. “I knew you’d take it wrong.”
“How should I take it? You cheated on me with her while I was going through chemo. You divorced me when I was still sick so that you could move in with her. And now you tell me you’re having a baby?”
“It just happened.”
“I’m a labor-and-delivery nurse, so I know exactly how it happens.” She pursed her lips. The words she wanted to say fought to come out. The emotions that she kept buried deep inside bubbled up, but she kept quiet and took a long sip of her coffee.
He reached across the table to touch her hand, but she snatched it away. “Please be happy for us. You know how much I always wanted to have kids.”
The urge to punch him grew stronger. “Really? The way I remember it I was the one who wanted kids, but you told me we needed to wait. First, until we had more money. Then it was a bigger house. And we waited and waited until I was sick and then it was too late. But you didn’t wait very long for her, did you?” She put a hand to her flat belly. “Get. Out.”
Chad rose from his chair and put a hand on the table near hers. “Page, you don’t want to end up like your mother, do you? Mean? Spiteful?”
Page summoned all the anger inside her and glared at him. He almost tripped over his own feet hurrying away from her. Once he was gone, she put her hands around the still warm mug. She glanced at the other patrons. They looked as if their lives were continuing as normal, while hers had crumbled a little more.
She finished her coffee and left the shop, vowing never to set foot in there again.
* * *
THE KID SITTING opposite him had his head down on the table, and his long dark hair covered his face. He hadn’t looked up since Mateo Lopez had entered the interrogation room of the Detroit Police Department, and Mateo tried to squelch the desire to leave Scotty to deal with the consequences of his actions alone. But he’d been hired by the kid’s mother to represent him in front of a judge, who wouldn’t likely turn a blind eye to a repeat shoplifter.
Mateo asked a question that he already knew the answer to. “What was it this time, Scotty? What was it that you had to have and didn’t care that you’d end up in juvie for? Again?”
Scotty kept his gaze on the table as he shrugged. “Don’t matter.”
“Really? Because we seem to end up at the police station too often for it to mean nothing.” He sat quietly, waiting for the kid to say something, anything. After five minutes, he took out a legal pad and pen. “This is your third strike, so you’re looking at a year of lockup.”
Scotty raised his panicked eyes to meet Mateo’s. “A year?”
“Minimum. The judge isn’t going to give you a slap on your wrist since you’re a repeat offender.” Mateo leaned closer. “Why did you do it?”
“I don’t know.”
Mateo doubted that. The kid knew more than what he said. “How about I tell you what I know? I know that your group of so-called friends dared you to take the cell phones. That when you got caught, they all ran off with the merchandise and left you to take the blame. Then you told the cops that you were alone and wouldn’t give any names. And now they’re all free while you’re in here and looking at a year in juvie. Those don’t sound like very good friends.”
The kid’s eyes lowered, and he once more concentrated on the table. “You don’t know nothing.”
“The truth is, I know the law. Which is good for you, since I can try to get a reduced sentence if you’ll give me the names of those friends.”
“No.”
Mateo might have admired the loyalty to friends in different circumstances, but not when his client was staring at the full brunt of the law if he didn’t give up those names. “Scotty, I’ve seen you hanging out with that gang in your neighborhood. I live there, too, so I expect that both the Four Aces and the Spanish Quarters have been trying to recruit you. And today was a tryout.”
Scotty frowned. “Like I said. You don’t know nothing.”
Mateo sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He grew tired of defending kids who knew better but longed to find a place to fit in. The street gangs were an attractive brotherhood to a kid who had an overworked single mother and no male role models aside from the ones he saw in the neighborhood. Didn’t seem that long ago that Mateo had been the one on the other side of the table talking to a lawyer. He wanted to give Scotty the chance he’d been given. To find a way out of the endless cycle of poverty and violence.
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.
