Chapter 8 #2
Minutes later, we settled at the table, and Mateo served Mason first, cutting his pasta into small bites and adding the extra cheese on top how Mason liked it. Then he moved to me curtly before fixing his own plate.
He acted like a perfect father, husband, thoughtful, present, and attentive. So, why did it feel like I was sitting with a stranger?
Conversation flowed easily enough with Mason dominating the topics while Mateo and I encouraged him and made the noises of approval.
However, I cataloged Mateo and the number of times he glanced at his phone, especially when a laugh came out a beat too late after Mason told a joke.
The way his eyes flickered at me when he thought I wasn’t looking.
What did he think I knew? What was there to know?
Mason slurped the last of his pasta, and Mateo reached for my hand across the table.
His thumb brushed over my knuckles. I used to find that comforting, but now it made my skin crawl.
“I’ve been thinking maybe we should take a trip soon. You know? To get away for a while.”
Get away from what? That was what I wanted to say, but I swallowed it down. “That sounds nice. Where were you thinking?” I asked.
“Somewhere quiet. Somewhere we can be together with no distractions. I think we could use a break, don’t you?” Mateo asked.
My wine glass trembled slightly as I lifted it to my mouth. “Sure, a break sounds good.”
Still, all I could think was he wanted to get me somewhere isolated, and I couldn’t help but wonder why.
After dinner, Mason was sprawled on the living room floor with his dinosaurs while Mateo and I cleaned the kitchen.
We moved around each other awkwardly when we were usually in sync with each other.
He wiped the counters, and I loaded the dishwasher while ESPN played, filling the silence between us.
Then the commentator was interrupted with a breaking news flash.
“We have an update on former collegiate star, DeAndre Pearson, who fell and ended up in a coma more than eight weeks ago. The doctors reported that Pearson has shown signs of regaining consciousness in a development they call encouraging. His family has released a statement?—”
Shattering glass made me jump. Mateo stood frozen. The wine glass he was drying was now at his feet.
“Mateo?” I stepped toward him, but he didn’t seem to hear me. His eyes were locked on the TV, where they were showing previous footage of DeAndre, healthy and smiling from last season.
“Pearson’s family is deeply concerned about the circumstances?—”
“Turn it off,” Mateo ordered.
I reached for the remote on the counter. “What?—”
“I said, turn it off!” His shouting made me flinch as I stabbed the power button on the remote.
Mason peeked around the corner at us with his eyes wide.
“It’s okay, baby. Daddy had an accident with a glass. Stay over there so you don’t get cut.”
Mateo hadn’t moved. He was staring at his hands.
“Mateo, what’s going on?” I asked again but kept my distance.
He looked at me, and I swore I didn’t recognize the man behind his eyes. Then he blinked and was my husband again, but he was different—like something was broken.
“I gotta go,” he said, moving to the front door.
“Go where at seven o’clock?”
“I forgot something at the practice facility. I’ll be back later.”
“Later? What’s happening?” I reached for his arm, but he pulled away from me.
Mateo grabbed his keys from the hook by the door, and the door slammed behind him. Minutes later, I heard his car backing out of the driveway.
Mason’s bottom lip was trembling. “Is Daddy mad at us?”
I crouched to his level. “No, Daddy said he forgot something important at work.”
“But he broke the glass and yelled.” Mason’s voice was small.
“Grown-ups get worried or scared too sometimes, but it wasn’t about you. I promise.” I smoothed his hair away from his forehead.
Mateo had never lost control in front of Mason like that. Suddenly, I knew I couldn’t wait for his half-ass explanation. I needed to know where he was and what he was hiding.
“How about we go get that ice cream now?”
“Can I get sprinkles?”
“Of course. Go put your slides on.”
I grabbed my phone and opened the Find My app. Years ago, when Mateo would travel with the team, we set it up so I could see where he was. He probably forgot I could track him, although he’d never given me a reason to.
The blue dot was the location, and it wasn’t moving to the practice facility but in the opposite direction. My hand shook as I pocketed my phone.
“Let’s go.”
After buckling Mason into his booster seat, I drove first to the ice cream place. I watched the blue dot as we went to the drive-thru for Mason’s ice cream, which I got in a cup so he could eat in the car.
Mason chattered happily during the ride. I glanced at the blue dot. It looked like it quit moving. I looked at the address, and it was Mt. Carmel Hospital.
“The T-Rex goes ‘rawr’ and eats all the bad dinosaurs.” Mason was entertaining himself in the backseat.
“I need to drop something off to a friend. It won’t take long. I promise.”
I pulled into the parking lot and found Mateo’s black Audi among the other cars. I parked several rows away and angled where I could see him but he couldn’t see me.
“Is your friend sick?” Mason asked.
“Just a little. They will be better soon. Listen, I need you to stay in the car for a minute while I run this paper to my friend, okay? I won’t go inside. I promise. You’ll be able to see me the whole time.”
Mason frowned. “You never leave me in the car alone.”
Shit. “I know. Hey, my friend is right there. I will get out for one minute, and you will be able to see me the whole time.”
“Okay.”
I walked over to Mateo’s car, and he was slamming his fist on the steering wheel. His head dropped against the headrest with his eyes closed like a man defeated or a man making a decision.
I wanted to confront him and demand answers. I should have done something, but what?
Instead, I returned to my car where my baby watched me.
“All done with my ice cream, Mommy.”
“Okay, baby. Let’s go home.”
I drove away, leaving Mateo to his guilt or secrets. One thought was on my mind as clear as ice. What was I going to do now?