Her Kind Of Hero. Janice Carter

       CHAPTER THREE

      MATT WAS GETTING into his car when Rosie called out, “You forgot your stew!”

      He’d forgotten on purpose, knowing he still had a container of pasta in the fridge from three days ago. He’d given up trying to get Esperanza to stop sending food home with him. He knew it was an act of love—and also that she still thought of him as the struggling college student, as he’d been after his discharge from the army.

      “You can’t fool me as easily as you can Ma,” she said when he joined her on the porch and took the Tupperware from her.

      “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

      “Yeah, right.” She playfully punched his upper arm. As he turned to go, she added, “I noticed at dinner that you seemed distracted. Have you been thinking about her?”

      “Her?”

      “Mom. Who did you think I was talking about?”

      Matt was tempted to say Dana Sothern, the woman who had been in his head for the past week. But he’d never told anyone about that day, not even his family. At the time, it would have involved unwanted questioning. What were you doing there, on the Green Line? Why weren’t you at your after-school job? Later, the day simply became something he wanted to put behind him.

      “Mom, of course. When’s her next appointment with the oncologist again?”

      “Next Monday.”

      A week away. “I’ll come, too.”

      “She doesn’t expect you to. She knows you’re busy organizing the first group of kids for the camp this weekend.”

      “I’m coming.” Matt knew she wouldn’t argue too much. She was aware that her big brother never changed his mind once it was made up.

      “Okay,” she finally said. “See you maybe later in the week. If not, for sure next Monday.” Then she clutched his arm as he started to go. “Matt, I meant it when I said I’d like to do a few sessions with the kids. I’ve been working on an idea and I can email you an outline.”

      At dinner, Rosie had pitched an introduction on internet use and privacy issues as a lead-in, followed by lessons on game development.

      Rosie had been working at a video game start-up for the past three years, since her college graduation. She was good at game development and getting better. She and her team had recently secured a publisher for a game they’d developed that was promising to be a hit. But getting her back and forth to Camp Hope would be problematic if she had a relapse.

      “Just think about it, Matt. Please. I’m in remission now and I feel good.”

      He felt bad at her pleading tone and softened his voice. “I’ll think about it. Maybe we can try having a class at the center first. See what the interest is and how it goes.”

      She pursed her lips and nodded. “Sure,” she mumbled.

      He knew she was disappointed. Rosie had been excited about Camp Hope from the beginning and wanted to be a part of it. “We’ll work something out.”

      He kissed her cheek and headed for his car. By the time he was behind the wheel, she’d already gone back inside. He let the car idle for a while, thinking about the opening of Camp Hope the coming Saturday, Rosie’s plea to help out and most of all, his mother’s next appointment, when her doctor would outline a treatment plan. Little wonder he’d hardly slept the past week. Worse, Dana Sothern’s face kept popping into his head at random moments. He had serious problems to worry about, so why was he so preoccupied with a woman he’d likely never see again?

      Thoughts of Dana reminded him of her check. It would cover some of the shortfall and if she could casually dash off an amount like that, she clearly had means. Of course, there was his challenge to her—one he regretted now. He’d made it out of pride, resenting her self-satisfied expression when she’d passed the donation across his desk. He should have just taken that money. Now he would have to swallow some of that pride and deposit that check.

      He shifted into gear and headed home. His apartment was a few blocks away from the center. He’d taken the rental months after opening KidsFirst, figuring he ought to live in the same area as the kids he served. The move had been a return to his old stomping grounds on the South Side where his family had lived until he was ten. Matt knew now that his parents had been worried about negative influences in the neighborhood, so he had found an apartment in Pilsen, which had been gentrifying. But Matt and his buddies from the South Side had stayed friends—the good ones, like Sandro, and the not so good, like Lenny.

      Matt tucked the ugly memory away. The elevator was out of order again and he was grateful for the walk up to the sixth floor after the big meal at his mother’s. He stowed the stew next to the pasta and checked his voice mail. His mother had set ground rules about cell phone use at meals long ago, but he’d automatically reached for it enough times during supper to draw snorted laughter from Rosie and frowns from Esperanza.

      First, there was Sandro, confirming the delivery of the bunk beds and linens the next day. I’ll meet you at the camp at about ten. Got an appointment in the city. But the delivery guys will move the stuff into the cabins, so you won’t have to bother about that. Oh, and the window people are coming back day after tomorrow to fix the screens in the old cabin. They’re coming in the morning and I can be there, but you have a meeting in the afternoon with the kitchen staff. The cook’s got her menus all worked out.

      Matt saved the message, knowing he’d have to replay it later for his notes.

      Kristen was next, telling him the center’s new youth worker could start on Wednesday. And just a reminder of the board meeting Thursday night. Bad timing, I know, coming before the first weekend at the camp. But you need to be there.

      This month’s board meeting was a big one, as they’d be discussing not only the budget cut from the city but the presentation to the Willow Springs town council regarding the lease.

      The last message puzzled him. The number wasn’t familiar and, at first, neither was the voice. But the vocal style was a dead giveaway.

       Not sure if this is your work number or a personal one, so apologies if I’m bothering you at home.

      Before the end of the first sentence—uttered without a word of introduction—Matt knew the caller had to be Dana Sothern. Must be something about her check. Wanting to know why he hadn’t cashed it.

       I noticed you haven’t cashed my check.

      Aha.

       And...um...if your suggestion is still on the table, I do have some time off work right now. Give me a call.

      Matt stared in disbelief at his phone. So, she was taking him up on his challenge. That meant the check would have to stay in his desk for now. He called the number on his screen right away. She took long enough to answer that he considered disconnecting but eventually, that unfamiliar but melodic voice said, “Matt?”

      “Yeah. I got your message.” He stopped there, letting her take the lead.

      “So, I have time off work and can help out in some way at the camp.”

      She seemed to want him to draw it out of her, even though she’d called him. But he waited long