“Come over.”
“I don’t have much time, Mama.”
“I made your favorite—breakfast burrito.”
Mattie could smell it: scrambled eggs with green chili peppers, chorizo, and a homemade tortilla. Instantly, her mouth watered.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Robo had already scarfed down his breakfast, so he followed Mattie into the bathroom and watched her wash her face and brush her teeth. Then he padded after her to the bedroom to lie down and watch her dress.
“What are you, some kind of a watch dog?”
Robo sighed, putting his head down on his front paws.
“Yeah, it’s a tough life, bubba.”
Going back to the bathroom, she dampened her hair and slicked back the sides to tuck behind her ears. She grabbed Robo’s leash from its hook by the door but let him run free while going out to the vehicle. He loaded into the back compartment, eager to embrace a new day. Lack of sleep didn’t seem to be a problem for Robo.
Mattie knew the kids would still be asleep this early in the day, and she would have her foster-mother all to herself. She could smell delicious odors coming from the kitchen as she approached its door. And from the amount of food she saw cooking on the stove after stepping into the room, it appeared as if Mama had been out of bed for quite some time already.
“Will you have coffee?” Mama T gestured toward the white-spotted blue porcelain pot on the stovetop.
“Sure. Can I pour you a cup?”
“Si, gracias. I’ll fix you a plate.”
Mattie poured black coffee into thick, white crockery mugs, appreciating its heady scent.
Mama set a plate holding a monster burrito smothered with shredded pork and green chili in front of Mattie on a wooden table that had seen its share of meals. Mattie scooted up a chair, eager to taste it. “Will you eat with me?”
“Sure.”
She waited until Mama had filled her own plate and sat down across from her. Mama bowed her head and murmured a blessing in Spanish. Mattie bowed her head, too, but remained silent.
“Now, dig in,” Mama said.
The first bite was heaven. “Mama, you said you had something to tell me.”
“Eat first, then talk.”
They ate in silence, savoring the spicy food. Mama T rose from her chair at the end of the meal to refill their coffee cups. After settling herself back in her seat, she folded her hands on the table and said, “Now I will tell you.”
Sensing the gravity in Mama’s manner, Mattie experienced a sinking feeling. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
“No, no. Do not worry, mijita. I have news that will surprise you, that’s all.”
Usually, being called mijita warmed Mattie, but this time she was afraid the endearment meant to cushion a blow, and it only served to enhance the sense of dread that was slowly starting to blossom in the pit of her stomach. Mattie waited while Mama seemed to be organizing her words.
“Your brother called.”
Or maybe she had just paused for effect. Hard to say, because Mattie suddenly felt herself reeling. She hadn’t heard from her brother since grade school. He’d been one of those incorrigible kids the county had found hard to place, and he’d never received the benefit of living with Mama T.
“Why would he call you? He never lived here.”
“No.” Sadness creased Mama’s face. “My home was full when he needed me. He was sent out of town. You know this. I was lucky I had an opening later so I could take you in.”
“Why did he call?”
“He wanted me to ask you a question. He knew you lived here once.”
“A question?” Why wouldn’t her brother just call her directly?
“He said he’s kept track of you, but he doesn’t know if you want to talk to him. He doesn’t want to bother you with a call if you don’t want it. He says he would understand if you didn’t want to talk to him.”
Mattie was speechless. She’d always hoped she would hear from her brother, but she thought that he was the one who didn’t want to talk to her. What would make him call after all these years?
“He said to ask you if you want him to call you.”
“Did he leave a number?”
“No, he will call me again later to find out what you say.”
Mattie glanced at the old-fashioned, rotary-dial phone hanging on the kitchen wall. No star key, no caller ID. “Did he say where he’s living?”
“California. Los An-gel-eees.”
“Oh my gosh,” Mattie whispered. She looked down at her empty plate, trying to focus her thoughts.
Willie always took the heat; he bore the punches. Mattie was the good girl; she called the police. What would she say after all this time? What would he?
“Let him call you,” Mama said, as if she sensed Mattie’s trepidation.
Mattie looked at her with watery eyes. “Of course, Mama. Please tell him to call me. Thank you for this.”
“My pleasure, mijita.” She pushed back her chair. “I want a full report after you’ve talked to him. Now, I got to get back to work. Laundry day.”
Mattie hugged Mama T good-bye and then went outside to the car and Robo. He rose from lying on his platform, a sleepy look on his face. He yawned and slowly wagged his tail, his usual exuberance dampened.
“Lazy dog.” Mattie ruffled the black fur at his throat. For a few heartbeats, with her arm sticking through the heavy gauge wire mesh, she held onto him, staring at nothing, seeing Willie’s childish face in her mind: thin features, their mother’s Spanish ancestry showing in his brown hair and dark-tan skin like hers, troubled brown eyes almost black with torment.
The last time she’d seen him, they were on the playground at school; she was eight, and he was ten. Earlier in the school year, he’d been removed from the foster home that they’d been living in together—a home out in the country—after he’d set fire to the haystack. Willie wouldn’t tell her why he’d done it; maybe he didn’t know himself. After that incident, the only time they got to see each other was at school. He was telling her that their social worker was sending him to another family in Colorado Springs.
“Why, Willie?” she’d asked, her heart beating like a sparrow’s wing.
“Because I’m trouble.” Willie’s face went dark with anger. “And because Dad’s in prison, and Mom doesn’t want us anymore.”
The rest was a blur. She’d been sick to her stomach; she spent the rest of the day in the nurse’s office, lying on a cot in a tight little ball, knowing it was all her fault.
As she started the engine, her thoughts in turmoil, Mattie checked the time. She had fifteen minutes to get to work—no time to drive home and digest this new information.
“Damn,” she muttered, steering the cruiser out into the street and setting a course for the office.
As she pulled into the parking lot, Stella LoSasso was getting out of her Honda. Dressed in a formfitting, gray pantsuit with her honey-highlighted hair pulled up to her crown and anchored by combs, Stella looked the perfect mix of professional and sexy. She stood by her vehicle, waiting for Mattie and Robo to come up to her.
“I checked out Dean Hornsby,” Stella said.
“Oh?” Mattie was still thinking about Willie.
“Yeah. He wasn’t in our system, no criminal background, so I Googled him. Turns out he’s the tampon king of Arizona.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Sole heir to the Assurance products fortune. Just sold the company for a couple million.”