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Kate De Luca felt a chill seep through the cracks in her old kitchen windows. She wrapped her oversized sweater across her body, though it didn’t help. Minnesota’s spring arrived with its typical sluggish, frigid entrance. After months of painful subzero temperatures, only a scattering of dirty snow piles remained. Yet, typical for March and April, more heavy, wet snow loomed in the short-term forecast.
As she flipped through the stack of bills on the kitchen counter—pediatrician, surgeon, hospital—Kate fought the familiar knot tightening in her stomach.
She didn’t bother opening them. They were “friendly reminder” past due bills from her thirteen-year-old son’s skateboarding accident. The amounts had been tallied a month ago, the final total now permanently seared in her memory:
Seven thousand, three hundred dollars.
Her thoughts were interrupted by her mother, Louise, walking in from the living room through the swinging kitchen door.
“Renzo and I had a nice chat. He said his ankle doesn’t hurt nearly as much.”
“Yes, Mom. I know.” She tried to sound enthusiastic. “Good news, right?”
Louise kissed Kate’s cheek. “Skateboarding is so dangerous, Kate. I mean, a broken ankle fixed with screws?” She shivered. “I can’t even imagine.”
“We’ve talked to Renzo about taking up a new sport,” said Kate. “He’s not very agreeable.”
“I can’t imagine he’d ever want to start it up again.” Louise reached for her Burberry raincoat hanging over the chair. “He could use a haircut, by the way.”
Kate held her breath for a second and let it out slowly. “Yes, Mom. I know.”
“What’s wrong? You look tired, dear.”
Kate frowned, self-consciously pushing strands of loose dark curls behind her ears. “You always know how to make a girl feel pretty, Mom.”
Louise laughed. “Kate. You’re a beautiful girl. I don’t need to tell you that all the time. But I do worry when I see you looking rundown. Get some rest.”
“I will. I—”
“I’d better be going. Your father—”
The back door flew open and Kate’s husband, Marco, rushed in.
“Kate—I got it! I got the—”
He stopped short, and Kate watched the joy fade from his big brown eyes, while maintaining some semblance of a phony smile.
“Oh. Louise, hi,” he said.
“Hello, Marco.” Louise tilted her head and smiled as her shoulder-length auburn hair bounced around her face. “I was just leaving. I take it from your grand entrance that you got the job.” She smiled and folded her raincoat over her arm.
Marco gave Kate a quick glance. “Ah—yeah. I got the job.” He stepped over to Kate, bending to give her a quick peck on her cheek.
She rubbed his arm as she looked up at him, smiling. “You got the mechanic’s job?”
Marco nodded, giving her that smile she’d fallen in love with years ago. “Sure did.”
Relief drifted through Kate’s arms and legs, and she allowed herself to forget the doctor bills for the first time in a while.
“That’s awesome!”
“Thanks,” Marco said. He smiled uncertainly at Louise. “I—ah’—start on Monday. It’s fairly close to us. Just off Payne and Maryland.”
“That’s wonderful news,” Louise said. “Maybe now you can move out of this dreadful old house and this terrible neighborhood.”
“Mom, stop—”
Louise shook her finger at them. “I’m not kidding. I heard on the news just this morning that there was another shooting the night before last.” She pointed her finger toward the living room.
“Right over on Bedford Street.”
Kate’s jaw fell. “But—”
“That’s right,” said her mother. “Just a few blocks away from where we’re standing. Gang related, they said.” She put her hands on her hips, her green eyes looking sharply at them. “It’s time, you two. You wouldn’t want your only son—my only grandson—caught in the crossfire now, would you? This is serious.”
“Mom. Please—”
“You could move out to Hudson, closer to your father and me.”
“Mom. We’re not moving to Wisconsin.”
Renzo pushed through the kitchen door, and Louise moved to hold it as he struggled through on his crutches, his long brown curls falling across his face.
“We’re moving?”
“No, honey. We’re not moving,” Kate said.
Louise grabbed her designer handbag from the kitchen table. “Suit yourselves.”
She headed for the back door and turned. “At least think about it. This house is falling apart. A new house wouldn’t be such a terrible thing, would it?”
Kate opened her mouth to speak, but she closed it after seeing Marco shoot her a look with a tiny shake of his head.
“Well, I’m off. Your father’s probably pacing the floor wondering where his dinner is. Don’t forget, darling. Lunch on Saturday. Just the two of us.”
Louise then made the rare move of kissing Marco on his cheek, patting his arm as she pulled away.
“Congratulations on the new job.”
She turned with a dramatic wave.
“Toodles!”
