questions he asked, though, no
answers were forthcoming. He packed up his tools and noticed on his way out that
the pile of bills had decreased significantly. But the basket that held them
still wasn’t empty.
The next morning he stopped by Rose Parker’s office. “Got a
minute?” he asked the social worker.
“For a hunk-a-burning-love like you, any time.” She waved him
to a chair.
“How is Cassidy doing?” he asked.
“You tell me. You’re the one who’s been spending so much time
with her.”
“I meant financially. Does she have her most pressing bills
taken care of, or does she need more money? She told me there’s an experimental
heart medicine the doc wants to try on Cody but it’ll cost a couple thousand
dollars.”
Rose winced. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the specifics of my
clients’ situations, but I can tell you she doesn’t have that kind of money
lying around.”
“I do,” Mitch replied bluntly. “But I need your help to get it
into her hands. Cassidy’s prickly about accepting help.”
“Child’s had to do without it for so long she’s forgotten how
to let other folks lend a hand. Although she mentioned you’ve been fixing her
car and sprucing up her place for her.”
He shrugged. “I’ve fixed a few things here and there. Her
apartment really could use a facelift, but I don’t know the first thing about
that kind of decorating stuff.” He looked at the social worker speculatively.
“You’re a woman, right?”
Rose laughed heartily. “Last time I checked.”
“Would you swing by Cassidy’s place with me? Help me figure out
a few things to make it look nicer? Her birthday’s in a few days, and I’d like
to surprise her.”
“My, my, Major. We are full of plans, aren’t we?” He frowned,
not sure what the innuendo in her voice meant, but then she added, “I’ll be
happy to help you.”
“I’ve got a key to her place, and Cody’s got an appointment
this afternoon. We can go then.”
“It’s a date, handsome.”
* * *
It took Rose a couple of hours to inspect the apartment,
a day to think and another day to shop. In the meantime, his mandatory vacation
blessedly ended and he was able to return to work. But to his surprise, he found
his thoughts constantly straying from the job at hand to a cute kid fighting for
his life in a hospital and his mother fighting right there beside him.
* * *
During his lunch break the next day, Rose met him at
Cassidy’s apartment to stage his birthday surprise. He helped Rose put a new
slipcover on the sofa, hang the new curtains, spread a fuzzy flokati area rug in
the living room and add a few throw pillows. He stood back to examine her
efforts.
With the new Roman shade open and sunlight flooding the space,
the living room didn’t look or feel like a depressing dungeon anymore. The place
looked light and fresh and welcoming now. Cassidy deserved to come home to
something like this.
“Much better,” he declared.
“Amazing what a little TLC can do for a soul,” Rose said
significantly.
Was she talking about Cassidy’s soul or his? He couldn’t
tell.
He passed by the bill basket on his way out and was pleased to
see it almost empty. He didn’t know what story Rose had used to explain the new
round of financial aid, and he didn’t want to know. Whatever worked to get
Cassidy to accept his help. He recruited Rose to help him tape a big Happy
Birthday sign on the front door. After a quick call to make sure there were no
crises at the office, he headed back to the hospital with Rose.
“How’s Cassidy’s bill situation after that last check I wrote?”
he asked.
“Better than it’s been in a long time, I gather. Oh, and I
talked to Dr. Mistler. He’s willing to tell Cassidy that a grant covered the
cost of the new medicine so she won’t find out you paid for it.”
“Thanks, Rose.”
“Are you sure you shouldn’t tell her about how you’re paying
her bills and financing her son’s medication? If
Reshonda Tate Billingsley