“Does she like it there?” Cal asks.
Mateo shrugs. “It’s a job. It’s easy, physically. She needs easy right now.” He gazes out the window, like that’s all he has to say, but then he adds, “She has osteoarthritis, so she can’t move all that well without medication.”
“She has what?” I almost choke on my last Sugar Baby. I can’t imagine Mateo’s mother, always so energetic and vibrant, being slowed down by the same disease my grandpa Sterling has. “When did that happen?”
“What’s osteoarthritis?” Cal adds.
“Joint disease,” Mateo says, the corners of his mouth turning down. “She has a lot of pain and stiffness in her knees. People don’t usually get it till they’re old, so her doctor’s not sure why it happened. He said it might have something to do with an old softball injury, or it might just be bad luck. There’s medicine that helps, but she doesn’t always…take it when she’s supposed to.” He pauses and lifts his shoulders in another shrug, like he’s surprised at himself for telling us. I know I am. It takes a lot for Mateo to open up, especially about family stuff. He’s always been fiercely protective of anything related to his mother and Autumn, including their privacy.
Then he meets my eyes and adds, “She was diagnosed in July. Right after Spare Me got sued. That was a shitty month.”
Oh my God oh my God oh my God. My stomach fills with lead, and it feels heavy enough to sink me through the bottom of Cal’s car and splatter me onto the road. For a second, I wish it would.
You have to tell him.
No. I cannot possibly tell him now.
“Oh wow, I’m sorry,” Cal says earnestly. “Your mom is the best. It sucks she has to deal with that.”
“But…” The words stick in my throat, and I have to force them out. “But my dad met with her in August, and he never said…he didn’t mention…”
I think back to that night, when I’d been waiting so anxiously at home to see how Dad’s meeting with Ms. Reyes went. He’d loved my idea of getting her involved in the new property, and told me that she’d seemed excited about it, too. “Ultimately, it might be a nice change from running a small business,” he’d said. “Things must have been tight for a while for her to be so underinsured. She seemed a little worn down.”
I’d chalked that up to the stress of the lawsuit, which was bad enough. It hadn’t occurred to me that Ms. Reyes might be dealing with health issues, too. Now the multiple jobs Mateo’s mentioned offhandedly throughout the day take on a different meaning. It’s not that he wants to commute into Boston to work at Garrett’s; it’s that he feels like he has to.
“She doesn’t talk about it much,” Mateo says. He gives me a small, tired smile that’s more of a grimace. “And she was sitting down the whole time your dad was at our house. No reason he’d have guessed anything was wrong.”
“Mateo, I am so sorry.” My voice is shaking, thick with unshed tears, and he looks bemused.
“It’s not your fault she’s sick,” he says.
“No, but…” My throat closes and I trail off.
“I’m going to need directions soon,” Cal says.
I blink and wipe my eyes. “What?”
“To Charlie’s house,” he replies, and it’s only then that I notice we’re in downtown Carlton. We just passed the library where I used to spend my summer days as a kid, and we’re coming up on the corner store where Mateo bought the haul of candy he tried to share with me four years ago. “Do I go the same way I would if I were going to yours?”
My brain feels full of staticky white noise, making it hard to think clearly, so I’m grateful when Cal has to pause at a red light. I gaze around us, disoriented despite the familiar surroundings, until memory finally kicks in. “Not quite,” I say. “I mean, you could, but it’s faster if you turn left after the soccer fields. Then right on Fulkerson.”
Cal taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “Any thoughts on what we do next if Charlie’s not home?”
No. I might’ve had thoughts five minutes ago, but now I’m stuck with static brain. “He’ll be there,” I say. I take out my phone, purely for something to do that doesn’t involve banging my head against the dashboard, and see yet another text from Emily.
CALL ME. DO NOT IGNORE THIS!!!
Then she sends me a YouTube link. My finger hovers over it briefly, before I do the exact opposite of what she said and drop my phone in my lap. It’s horrible, I know, that I’ve let almost the entire school day go by without checking in with my best friend. The problem is, I have absolutely no idea what to say. How do I explain any of this? The call with Daniel was already enough of a disaster. Before I put the phone to my ear, a small part of me was hoping to hear concern in his voice. That part now feels like a sucker.