“You’d be doing me a favor. It would give me another opportunity to raid your fridge—legal food this time. Mine only has moldy cheese of questionable origin. It’s green, but I’m pretty sure it started out orange, and unless it’s actually oxidized copper, I should use a hazmat suit for its disposal.”
I shook my head. “It’s not merely getting the kids to school. I have to talk to his teacher about his field trip, stop by the store for new coconut cake ingredients and poster board for the science fair. Plus the garbage disposal is broken and I need to pick up a new one.”
“I can do those things, plus I’ll install the new disposal for you.”
“And the dishwasher is broken, I need to—”
“Let me take a look at it.”
“I know what’s wrong with it, I just need some time to fix it.”
“I’ll do it.”
“But—”
“The water is too hot! It’s TOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOOT!” Grace wailed from the bathroom. Instead of inspiring my sympathy, I huffed another sad laugh.
“Just a minute, Grace. I’ll be right there,” I called, trying to keep the frustrated laughter out of my voice lest she think I was relishing in her anguish.
“Let me help,” Matty said gently, tapping my knee with the knuckles of one hand. Before I could respond, he shook his head and spoke over my protest. “Listen, we’ve known each other forever, right? When I moved into the building two months ago, you brought me a welcome-neighbor dinner before you knew who I was. Remember that? You had Jack and Grace bring drawings, in case I didn’t have anything for my walls. Those drawings are now framed and hanging in my dining room. It was the first time I’d had a home-cooked meal in seven years, since my mother’s cook left to go back to Croatia. You know how it was growing up in my family. You’re more family to me than they are. It was maybe the first time I’d ever felt truly welcomed.”
I huffed, feeling torn and tempted. It would be so nice, so nice, such a welcome break to accept the help he offered.
His smile turned teasing. “Let me do this, otherwise I’ll drown in guilt. Honestly, I wouldn’t offer except your children are pretty awesome. Besides, how hard could it be?”
“Now it’s TOOOOOOOOO COOOOOOOOOOOLD!” Grace’s renewed bellowing arrived as Matt finished speaking. I lifted my eyebrows at him, silently challenging his last question.
Matty shrugged. “Well, I’ll do my best.”
The music originating from my cell phone switched from “Welcome to the Jungle,” to “Pour Some Sugar On Me.” The shift in tempo reminded me I was still on hold with the hospital. It also made me wonder who was responsible for choosing the wait music.
“I don’t know.” My words were reluctant, not because I didn’t trust Matty but because I hated asking for help. I hated the idea of needing it. I knew I could do everything myself. I didn’t need his help . . . but the offer to share my burdens was so enticing.
Plus I wasn’t certain Matty would actually succeed in getting the kids ready, make it to school on time, and still be on speaking terms with me afterward.
“I don’t mind.” He grinned like it was all settled, placing his hand on my knee and giving it a quick squeeze before standing. “What time do you need me?”
I studied the screen of my phone for a few seconds, then finally ended the call and stood as well, giving Matty a resigned smile. “Five thirty. And I’ll leave detailed instructions for you. Grace and Jack can get ready on their own, but they just need a bit of prodding when they start daydreaming instead of putting on their snow boots. And the school isn’t far, two blocks.”
“Sounds good.” He said this earnestly, like he was truly looking forward to taking the kids to school.
I studied his cheerful expression for a long moment as his eyes moved to Jack, who was currently absorbed in his space atlas. Matty’s small smile held true affection as he looked at my son. My chest filled with warmth and gratitude. When another person, especially one not related by blood, takes a sincere interest in the wellbeing of my kids, it makes my heart go soft.
I decided Matty Simmons was more than nice. He was a good guy. He was a good friend.
***
Grace woke me by climbing into my bed at 3:27 a.m., another nightmare. We cuddled and I soothed her. Once she was sleeping peacefully, I started my day.
After skipping my shower and quickly getting dressed, I responded to several work emails, typed detailed directions for the kids, and had three minutes to apply a little makeup before Matty arrived at 5:27 a.m., looking bleary-eyed, nervous, and enthusiastic.
I made it to the hospital by 6:00 a.m. and then waited. And waited. And waited.
But I put the waiting to good use. First, I secured an alternate babysitter for the evening. Then I whipped out my laptop and caught up on my schematics for work. I was feeling good about the status of the project when I was finally told at 10:06 a.m. the hospital was having problems with the MRI machine and the scan would have to be rescheduled.
Beyond irritated, I stemmed my inconvenient urge to (figuratively) shoot the messenger. It wasn’t the medical assistant’s fault the machine wasn’t working, he didn’t deserve my ire.