Chicago Hope

by Carmen DeSousa

  She laughed. “Not usually. But … how in the world are we going to eat all this?”

  He waved a hand. “I live off delivery and leftovers. I’m almost certain my doorman thinks I’m having an affair with the UberEats driver. Dig in.” He opened the chopsticks and then leaned back in the chair as he lifted the container. “Still learning to master these suckers!”

  Maura waved hers. “Me too.” Not really, but her mother told her never to show up a man on the first date — second, she corrected. She smiled and picked up her container as well. “It’s good.”

  “Can’t beat Chicago for Chinese. San Fran’s good. Toronto, too. But … mmmm … something about Chicago food.”

  “So you’ve said.” She waved her chopsticks at his head. “Were you in the military?”

  He swallowed, then covered his mouth. “Does it show?”

  “Yeah …”

  “Only for four years, right after I turned eighteen. I was bucking my father.”

  She took another bite, then sipped from the water bottle he’d ordered. “Oh? What does your father do?”

  He tilted his head, then gestured a hand around the room. “Umm … this.”

  “Oh … You didn’t want to be a journalist?”

  He about choked on the bite he’d just taken. He covered his mouth, laughing behind his hand. “No, not at all.”

  “What did you want to be?”

  He shook his head, reached for a crab Rangoon. “Don’t laugh.”

  She nodded.

  “I wanted to be El Mago.” The last two words he’d said in a flawless Latino accent.

  She searched her rudimentary Spanish vocabulary. “A … magician?”

  He laughed unreservedly, covering his mouth again and leaning back in the chair. “No … Whew! My father really would have disowned me. No, I wanted to be like Javier Báez, playing for the Cubs, helping them win the World Series. Instead, I enrolled in the Army, then ended up going to college in L.A., and now I’m back home.”

  “Why didn’t you go pro?”

  His laughing jag subdued, and he picked up his chopsticks again. “Honestly, I wasn’t good enough. If I had landed a scholarship to play, I probably would have. But … can’t fight the stats. You’re either good enough, or you aren’t. It’s okay, though. I enjoy watching the game. We should go sometime —” He stared up from his food. “Do you like baseball?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t care to watch it on TV, but I like live games.” Every once in a while, Jessica would hand out complimentary tickets that she couldn’t use, and Maura would take Ben.

  Now is the time to tell him you have a kid, Maura. But she couldn’t. Not yet. No sense in jeopardizing a chance to work with Rick after the project.

  “Perfect,” he said. “We’ll have to do that.”

  Baseball started in the spring … Was Rick thinking they’d be working together, or was he already planning future dates?

  The last thing she wanted was to come off as one of those controlling women who ask on the second date, What exactly are we doing? Especially when they were supposed to be working. But if she didn’t ask, and he turned out to be one of those men who didn’t date single mothers — No, not yet.

  I agreed to work with him through the Dear Santa project. If he asks me out on a real date, I’ll come clean. Until then, I’ll assume this is a business relationship.

  She stared at his jeans and T-shirt, and how well he filled them out, shivered at the memory of his hand on her back, then her shoulders … The way his thin beard had brushed her cheek when he looked out the window with her. Face it, Maura, you’re toast. You better hope this is more than a business relationship and that he likes kids!

  Chapter 9

  Ben rushed ahead, running to the end of the block. He wasn’t allowed to cross the street without her, but he liked to leave her in the dust.

  “Don’t step off the sidewalk!” she called behind him, quickening her steps. She didn’t like him out of reach, but she also knew she couldn’t smother him. If his father were here, he’d race him to the end of the block. Big Ben would always win, but he wouldn’t win by so much that their little Ben would be discouraged.

  Maura sighed. Her son was too young to be without a father. But … she wasn’t going to let just anyone fill that role.

  “Your boss is really gonna build a park, Mom?”

  She wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “That’s what he said. Of course, we don’t count our chickens before they hatch, do we?”

  Ben shrugged. “I don’t know what that means, but you said not to do it, so I don’t.”

  “Well, you know I grew up on a farm, and grandma used to say that all the time. You know that not all eggs turn to chickens … So, basically, you don’t want to count on something that may not happen, or spend money you don’t have.”

  Ben stared up at her. “You have some weird sayings.”

  She ruffled his hair. “I know. Comes with growing up in the South. Hey, let’s not worry about this until it happens, okay? It’s our day together. Let’s go —”

  A car engine turned off behind her, and Maura instinctively turned. The hand not holding Ben immediately reached for her pocketed pepper spray, while the one holding him moved him behind her. Instinct. She was always ready.

  She eyed the Tacoma, then the man who stepped out. “Rick?”

  Rick smiled. “Hey … what are you doing here?” He leaned sideways, taking in her son. “Hello, young man.”

  Maura held in her sigh. “Ben, this is Mr. Figueroa.”

  Rick dipped his head. “Hi, Ben! My last name is a mouthful. Feel free to call me Rick. Everyone does.”

  Ben waved. “Hi, Rick.”

  Rick smiled, but then cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, taking in the street. His was the only vehicle near the empty lot. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”

  “There’s a bus stop at the corner,” she said truthfully. “I was showing Ben the future home of the community park.”

  “So, you live in the neighborhood, too?” He dropped his eyes to Ben. “And, Ben … What do you think about the park? Was this your Dear Santa idea?”

  Ben looked up at her and then the stranger he’d never met. “No, this was my cousin’s idea. I don’t believe in Santa, but I did write a letter to my Mom’s boss. Are you my Mom’s boss?”

  Rick laughed out a breath, then flashed his million-dollar smile. To her, he flashed a wink. “I work with your mom, but I wouldn’t say that I’m her boss. This project was her idea.”

  “But you read the letters?”

  Rick nodded. “I do … as many as I can.”

  “Oh,” Ben said, a note of despondency in the one word. “Yeah, I kinda figured you wouldn’t be able to read all of them.”

  Rick held her son’s gaze for a moment, then looked back at her. “Well, where are you two headed? I have nothing planned today. If you don’t mind the company, that is.”

  Maura turned her attention to Ben. Sunday was their day, but other than riding the bus downtown and hanging out, they really didn’t have any plans. The time away from the house just gave them time to talk.

  Ben shrugged. “I’m cool with him coming.”

  “Okay, then,” Maura said. “We just go downtown and hang out, maybe get some ice cream and gelato. We can catch the bus back.”

  Rick motioned them toward his truck. “Like I said, I have nothing planned. Hop in.” He first opened the back door for Ben, who jumped right in, settling himself in the middle seat. Then he held open the passenger door for her.

  Before getting in, Maura looked up at him. “Why are you here?”

  “I wanted to check out the neighborhood.”

  “Hmm …”

  “Hop in, Maura. I’d like to spend the afternoon with you and your son.”

  He closed the door and hustled around the hood. Inside, he looked up at the sky through the windshield. “Looks like we have a few hours before the heavens paint our beautiful ci
ty white.”

  Maura looked up, too. “My app didn’t call for snow.”

  Rick inhaled deeply. “Can’t you smell it?”

  Ben sniffed behind them. “You can’t smell snow. Can you, Mom?”

  Rick turned and looked at Ben. He tapped a finger to his nose. “When you have a honker like mine, you can.”

  Ben laughed, and the sound caused a bubbling sensation in Maura’s chest. Her son rarely laughed.

  “Is he telling the truth, Mom? Can people really smell snow?”

  Maura looked at Rick, then back at her son. “Supposedly, we can, even without a big nose.” She looked back at Rick. “You don’t have a big nose.”

  He inspected his face in the rear-view mirror. “Yeah, I do, but they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so I’ll defer opinions about my face to you from now on.” He winked again, then turned the key and shifted the truck into gear. “So, Ben, do you like science?”

  “I like all subjects,” her son said honestly, and he did. Unlike his cousins, he loved going to school.

  “Nice! Not surprising with a mother as smart as yours. Technically speaking, it’s the absence of other smells that we recognize. When the temperature drops to freezing, molecules slow down, making other smells less pungent. It’s a clean smell. But wait … there’s more.” Rick grinned at Ben’s reflection in the mirror. “The extra humidity in the air boosts our sense of smell, making our noses feel all warm and moist, unlike out West where I spent the last few years. And finally, the scent of snow is linked to the stimulation of our fifth cranial nerve. The nerve turns on when we breathe in cool air. Those three things link our brain with a distinctive snow scent. I’ll test you on all this in a couple hours, see if you notice the difference when more scents are surrounding you.”

  “A test?” Ben groaned.

  “Okay. No questions, but we’ll test the theory right before it snows.”

  Maura looked up again as Rick stopped at the intersection. “I don’t think it’s going to snow.”

  Rick glanced at Ben again, then back at her. “Care to wager?”

  Maura sighed. “I don’t bet.”

  “Sure, you do. You moved to Chicago, started a new life … Sounds like you’re a high roller.”

  She lifted her eyes. “What’s the wager?”

  “If it snows before sunset, you and Ben will have dinner with me tonight.”

  Maura glanced at her watch. “That’s a couple hours from now. What are we going to do for that length of time?”

  “Ice skate!” Ben shouted from the back.

  “Ben!” She scolded her son. He knew better than to suggest something that costs money.

  Rick touched her arm. “That’s a great idea, Ben. I haven’t been ice skating in years.”

  “I’m sorry, Rick. My son knows better than to do that … It’s too expensive. I don’t —”

  He smiled. “Ice skating is free in Millennium Park —”

  “But the skates aren’t free, and we don’t have —”

  “Maura, please, allow me. You did a good thing for me … for the company, and you’re right, they haven’t given you your just reward. It sounds like Ben would really like this, too.”

  “Please … Mom. It’s been forever, and you promised we would go before Christmas.”

  Maura dropped her head. Obviously, Rick could afford it, but … her son shouldn’t have put her in this position.

  Rick touched her arm again. “Please, Maura.”

  “Oh, all right.” It better not snow! She wasn’t prepared to spend a day and evening with a man she hadn’t told Ben about. What was her son thinking right now? She’d promised herself she wouldn’t introduce any man to Ben until she knew he was the One.

  Could Rick be the One?

  Rick dropped them off at the entrance. Typically, she and Ben would walk around Millennium Park, watching the skaters from the platform. They’d make faces into The Bean. Maybe get some snacks. Listen to live music. If it were a nice day and they felt like walking, they’d go to the Lincoln Park Zoo. If it were a nasty rainy day, which was more common than not, they’d spend the afternoon at the Garfield Park Conservatory. Maura never tired of walking through the ten acres of plant species from around the world. She especially enjoyed the tropical temperatures indoors and the play places for Ben. The best part was that the conservatory, The Bean, and even the zoo, for that matter, were free. Each week, they visited a different spot, and all she had to do was buy snacks.

  As soon as Rick drove off, Maura stared down at her son. “Ben, you know better than that. Haven’t I told you not to pick up an item or mention something that costs money when you’re with a friend’s parent or other grownups? Adults don’t like saying no to children. It makes them feel bad.”

  “But Rick wanted to spend the day with us. He said so.”

  “Grownups say things like that sometimes to be nice.”

  He crossed his arms and stared up at her. “Then that’s their fault. You said to always tell the truth. Grownups should have to tell the truth, too.”

  Maura sighed. “Of course they should. I’m not saying he lied. I’m just saying people say things to be nice.”

  “That’s lying.”

  She shook her head. “Okay. You’re right. But, no more. Do not ask for something or point out that you like something that costs money, do you hear me?”

  He dropped his head. “Yes, Mom.”

  Maura backed them up to a bench, so they could wait for Rick.

  “Who is Rick, anyway?” Ben asked. “Do you want to spend the day with him?”

  She licked her lips. “He’s a new employee. He liked my idea for the Dear Santa project, so we’re working together. And sure … I don’t mind spending the day with Rick.”

  “Does he like you? He looks like he likes you. You know how Brittany’s boyfriend is always squeezing on her. Rick looks like he wants to do that to you.”

  “Ben!” She burst out a laugh, her eyes immediately watering up. “Please don’t say anything like that around Rick —”

  “Say anything like what around Rick?” Rick asked.

  Ben jumped up. “I was teasing my mom, talking about my cousin and her.”

  Maura grinned. She was sure the man could see the guilt written all over her face.

  Rick looked skeptical, but he didn’t press. “All right, let’s go skate!”

  Maura watched as Ben willingly followed right beside Rick. Well, her son didn’t tell an outright lie; he had been talking about her and Brittany. But Brittany was right. She needed to watch what she said around her little man. He missed nothing, and he was quite the little actor. He knew what he was doing when he suggested ice skating. After all, she sucked at ice skating. After only a few times, Ben had been able to skate circles around her.

  So what exactly is Ben thinking? And more importantly, does Rick really want to squeeze me? Whatever that means.

  Chapter 10

  Maura examined the skating rink and surrounding area.

  The normally lush green trees that separated the park from the busy road and skyscrapers stood bare, their spiny branches reaching toward the low-hanging cloud cover.

  Behind the rink, she spied the official Chicago Christmas tree, a sixty-foot blue spruce, decked out in blue and silver.

  Maura sniffed. She smelled popcorn. Grilled food, hotdogs or hamburgers, she wasn’t quite sure which. Gas fumes. People. She could smell hairspray, perfume, someone who probably should have put on extra deodorant. She didn’t smell snow. Did she want it to snow? Yeah, she was pretty sure she did. But the forecast wasn’t calling for snow this afternoon, and it hadn’t snowed yet, so she doubted Rick’s prediction would come true.

  Rick and Ben stood in the line for skates. She decided she’d watch — no sense in embarrassing herself.

  “What size?” Rick called from the counter.

  She waved a hand. “I’m good.”

  Rick pouted then looked at her feet. “Ten?”

&nb
sp; “Stop it. I’m not a ten!”

  “She’s an eight,” Ben said.

  “You know your mother’s shoe size?”

  Ben just shrugged, and Maura thought she’d have a heart attack right then and there. She should have spent time asking Ben not to mention that they share a room instead of lecturing him about asking for stuff.

  “Oh, God. Please don’t let him say anything,” she whispered beneath her breath.

  “Eight?” Rick confirmed with her as the woman stepped up to the counter.

  Instead of arguing, Maura nodded. No sense in giving him more reasons to question her son.

  Oh, heavens. What have I gotten myself into?

  Rick and Ben trotted toward her with skates and pads, which she hoped were for Ben, in tow. At least, she hoped Ben hadn’t told Rick how many times she’d fallen the previous year before she’d benched herself for the season.

  Rick handed her a pair. “Ben says you’re a pro, taught him everything you know.”

  “Hah! What I know, I told him in four words: try not to fall. Ben’s a natural. I, on the other hand, am a novice at best.”

  Ben flashed her a smile as he tugged on his skates. “Rick said he won’t let you fall, Mom. So I can skate without worrying about you.”

  “Really, you two in cahoots now?”

  “What does cahoots mean?” Ben asked.

  Rick patted Ben’s back then smiled up at her. “Means we’re forming a partnership, you and I.”

  “Oh, then yeah.” Ben tied up and stood. “Can I go?”

  Maura nodded. “Sure. You know the rules. Stay inside the rink. Don’t go near the exits until you make eye contact with me.”

  “Got it! Thanks, Rick!”

  “My pleasure. We’ll be out in a minute.” Rick turned to her. “Great kid you have there. Makes me wonder …”

  Maura stopped tying up the skate. After all, she wasn’t in a hurry to make a fool of herself. “Makes you wonder, what?”

  “Why you didn’t mention him? We’ve spent two evenings and a full day together, and not once did you mention you had a son? Why?”