18. Cori #2
“Yeah. The freezer isn’t maintaining the correct temperature and needs to be looked at.
The foam padding on the bottom of the play structure needs to be replaced.
The sprinklers on the field don’t work. The rubber nonslip stuff on the stairs is peeling off.
There are a few holes in the drywall from when things got a little interesting between some of the high schoolers.
The mirror in the computer lab bathroom is cracked.
One van won’t start, and they all need an oil change.
Baseboards are coming up all over the place.
The north court basketball hoop looks like its bolts are coming out of the wall.
The atrium roof leaks a little bit when it rains hard.
A shelf in the art supply closet collapsed.
Some of the outlets don’t work. The fluorescents in the main hallway flicker, giving off major haunted house vibes.
We tried changing the bulbs, but it didn’t work, so I’m guessing the issue is with the ballasts.
And the faucet on the maintenance sink shoots water everywhere.
” She snapped her fingers. “Oh, I almost forgot. The dryer doesn’t dry the clothes. It just sort of tumbles them around.”
“Jeez, is that all?”
“I might have seen a roach in the kitchen.” Marisol snickered.
“And Rosa doesn’t know any of this?”
“On some level she knows, and of course we always have stuff like this going on. But I don’t think she realizes how bad it’s gotten lately. Putting off minor projects is nothing new, except that we’re reaching a critical point here. It's just that she’s so overwhelmed with Lupe already…”
I met Marisol’s eyes in understanding. Nobody wanted to force Rosa to think about building maintenance when she had more important things to focus on.
“Okay,” I said. “I agree about not worrying Rosa. It would be different if the building were about to collapse, but it sounds like we just need to call a handyman or something before it gets totally out of control.”
“Yeah, but that’s not exactly in the budget.”
The straightforward solution was for me to simply hire someone and pay for it.
But I had a feeling that would cause Rosa and her stubborn pride even more stress.
I knew she hadn’t invited me to look at the Center's books just so I’d throw money at the deficit.
She wanted a partner, not a patron. I didn’t want to create a weird vibe between us where she felt she “owed” me.
That would make it a lot more difficult for me to help implement a plan for long-term sustainability.
Maybe I could pay someone to come in, but keep it a secret from Rosa? That was tricky, but it could work.
Or maybe I could find someone to do the work for free? There had to be someone who loved the Center who also happened to be a licensed plumber or electrician.
I was about to ask Marisol about it when she suggested, “You should ask Deck.”
“Huh?”
“Deck. Now that he’s not being an idiot and trying to hide his existence from you and all that. I almost called him myself after Chuck talked to me, but then Rosa told me you agreed to help out, and I realized it would be the perfect opportunity to force you two to speak to one another.”
I gave her a dry look as a memory of her making kissy noises at Deck and me on the couch when she was eight came back to me.
“Deck works in construction?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“No.” Recalling Deck’s truck and the J&D Construction hoodie, I realized I should have put it together. Then again, I’d been distracted by Johnny.
“He’s a contractor. He owns a business with his friend Juan. They've done really well. Mostly big projects, commercial stuff, so being a handyman for the Center wouldn’t exactly be in his wheelhouse, but he loves Rosa, so I bet he’d work gratis .”
Gratis was what we needed. It seemed like a perfect solution, but I hesitated. Deck had been so insistent on boundaries. Then again, this was important. And we were fake married.
“You think he would do it?”
“ Sí . You know how he is. That part hasn’t changed.”
I nodded. She was talking about her brother’s enormous heart.
The one he hid from the world, but which had always been crystal clear to Marisol and me.
When we were younger, lots of people had seen Deck’s slicked-back ponytail and white tank tops, heard his street accent, or watched him strut down his block, and assumed he was up to no good.
But Arturo Decker had been the first person to put on a tiara whenever Marisol wanted to play princesses.
Anytime he saw me walking home from school, he came up next to me and slipped my backpack onto his shoulder.
He helped my mom stir pasta when her hands shook too badly to do it, and he stuck up for Eliazar whenever someone uttered homophobic nonsense.
Sure, Deck had made mistakes, but if I wasn’t defined by that terrible night with Chi-chi, then neither was he.
Despite his tough exterior, at his core Deck was a big-hearted teddy bear with an instinct to protect people and an innate inclination toward kindness. No doubt prison had hardened him, but I’d gotten enough of a vibe over the past week to know that it hadn’t stomped out that part of his nature.
Which was good. Because I needed to convince that big heart of his to fix some toilets.