Page 17 of Hearts to Mend

RICO

* * *

Matty comes running at me, and I narrowly avoid getting beaned in the brain by his big, red cast. He swings that thing like a cudgel when he hugs me.

“Hey, buddy, how was school today?”

“It was awesome! We got to learn about butterflies.”

“That does sound awesome!” I don’t remember ever loving school as much as this kid does. His excitement is a joy to behold. “Tell me everything.”

He does, going into great detail about how wiggly little caterpillars grow wings and fly around.

As he talks, I drive, taking him from the school to the hospital, just a quick stop before we head to the house. In the parking lot, I find an open spot, then wait for Matty to take a breath so I can ask him, “Hey, little man, do you mind if we visit a friend in the hospital?”

“The hospital?” Matty peers up at the building. “Did he break his arm too?”

I grin. “No, she got a little overheated today, and the doctors are checking her out.”

Matty nods, and I reach into the passenger seat to retrieve the bouquet of daffodils—I’m told they’re Margaret’s favorite. Once I have him out of his car seat, I hand the bouquet to Matty, giving him the important task of carrying them to Margaret. He takes the job seriously, clutching them between his cast and his good hand. I guide him with my hand on his head, and we go inside to the front desk. Soon, we’re escorted back to her recovery room. There, Margaret is stretched out on an adjustable bed, a game show playing on the television.

“Ms. Everly, my name is Ricardo Rodriguez, and this is my son, Mateo.”

Margaret blinks at me, then watches Matty as he walks to her bedside and holds the flowers out to her.

“These are for you,” he says, lisping a little where he’s missing a tooth on the left side.

Margaret accepts the flowers, giving them a sniff before speaking to Matty. “Thank you, young man. They’re beautiful. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

She directs the question to Matty, but I know she’s asking me, so I respond, “I’m with the Krause Gazette. I was wondering if you’d be willing to answer a few questions.”

“Questions about what?”

“About your broken air conditioner.”

“Do you always bring your child with you to interview people?”

“No, ma’am,” I grin bashfully, trying to play up my charm, “but his grandma has church this evening, and I wanted to chat with you. Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” To Matty, she says, “Would you mind pushing this button to get the nurse’s attention? Let her know I need a vase and water for the lovely flowers you’ve brought me.”

Matty mashes the call button over and over until a nurse appears in the doorway. Margaret smiles at my son as he relays her instructions to the nurse, and we get a hospital jug and some water for the flowers. Once that’s settled, I pull up a chair, and Matty sits on my lap with a coloring book I brought for him.

“Some of your neighbors tell me your electricity hasn’t worked quite right for the last few months, and now your air conditioner is on the fritz too.”

“That’s right.”

“And apartment management won’t do anything about it. Is that correct?”

Margaret pulls a face, looking self-righteous as she launches into a rant. “That family calls themselves Christians, but they wouldn’t know a bible if it hit ‘em in the head. And they sure don’t take care of the people who are paying to live in that complex. I tell you, the problem is with that Curtis fella. As soon as the family put him in charge, it all went to heck in a hand basket. He’s always cutting corners, saying things are fixed when they ain’t.”

“Like what?”

“Like my AC! Three whole weeks ago, that Curtis fella came around asking me for five hundred dollars to pay for repairs to my air, and have I seen him since? Not a once!”

“You shouldn’t have to pay anything for repairs. That’s the responsibility of the apartment complex, not the tenants.”

“Well, I don’t know about all that.”