A/N: This story fits in with chapters 6 and 8 in my FictionPress project, Bloom for Me. Since Mateo became something of a major character, I had to deal with the events alluded to in those chapters, and I hope I've done a decent enough job with it. It carries some relevance with me since I learned just a week ago that my own father is dying of cancer. I hope to have as positive an outlook after my own loss. Thanks as ever to my faithful readers and especially the reviewers.
§ § § -- January 25, 2005
"Malaria?" Leslie said, staring at Anna-Kristina in shock. "Mateo has malaria? You can't be serious!"
"It's true," the princess said softly, biting her lip and staring pleadingly at her aunt. "I have to go to Australia—I promised more than a month ago, before Mateo fell ill. Briella and my cousins are all going to be there, and I haven't seen them in long enough that I wanted to join them there and help them make goodwill appearances for Australia Day there—that's tomorrow. But that was before Mateo got sick. Our doctor's been trying to treat him at home, but he insisted yesterday that Mateo be checked into the hospital, because he doesn't seem to be getting any better."
Leslie blew out her breath and shook her head slowly. "What an awful situation."
"I can't go, Aunt Leslie," Anna-Kristina insisted. "I know I promised the others, but I can't go, not with Mateo like this."
"Does he know you were supposed to go?" Leslie asked.
"Of course, he was going with me. Or he meant to, at least, before Uncle Christian explained that he was going to be away setting up that branch in Santi Arcuros. You know he hates to leave the office like that, if Uncle Christian isn't there…though I suppose it could be seen as an excuse, because he's done it before…" She shrugged and fell silent.
Leslie was quiet for a few minutes. She knew how malaria was transmitted—through the bite of an infected mosquito, but not through the air—so that Mateo could have visitors when he was strong enough to see them. She had no doubt someone at the office, if not Anna-Kristina herself, had informed Christian of the goings-on, so that he was aware of Mateo's condition. She thought Anna-Kristina should stay, but she also remembered that he had been to Lilla Jordsö once—just before his wedding to Anna-Kristina—and had returned observing that his wife's home country was pretty but penetratingly cold. He also hadn't liked the inevitable publicity that surrounded them in the wake of the announcement that one of the country's princesses was getting married, and ever since then had gently declined to accompany Anna-Kristina whenever she went back to her birthplace.
Finally she looked up. "Tell you what, why don't we go see Mateo, and you can ask him," she said. "Frankly, I agree with you about staying here, but you know how Mateo is. Let's check with him. I can drop off the triplets at the main house, and Natalia can stay as well—Mariki and the staff love an excuse to entertain the rug rats."
About half an hour later Leslie and Anna-Kristina made their way down a hall at the hospital and let themselves quietly into the room Mateo had been ensconced in. He was awake, though he looked thin and exhausted and pale; he smiled when he saw them. "Hello, Miss Leslie," he murmured. "Come sit here, my Anna-Kristina."
Leslie took a chair; Anna-Kristina settled on the side of the bed. "How do you feel?" she wanted to know.
Mateo peered up at her. "No different," he said. "Shouldn't you and Natalia have left for Canberra by now?"
"I can't go!" Anna-Kristina protested. "Not when you're so sick!"
Mateo looked reproachful. "You need time with your family," he scolded. "You can't make a promise that you'll go and see them while they're in Australia, then back out of it with no warning. And I know you're lonely for them, and you'd love to be able to speak in your native language for a while. Didn't you say you'd like Natalia to learn it too?"
"Mateo, my heart, it'd be a different story if you hadn't fallen ill," Anna-Kristina said. "I just don't feel right about going away, not when you're this sick and there's no one to come and see you."
"There are plenty to come and see me," he contradicted dryly. "Every day I get three hospital meals; once an hour a doctor or nurse checks me or changes my IV bags; nurses come in and help me walk when I need to visit the restroom, give me sponge baths…"
Leslie grinned, and Anna-Kristina gave him a glare. "You know what I mean, Mateo Apana," she said, disgusted. "I know you don't have too many close friends here, and if Natalia and I are away, what family is left to visit you?"
"I'm sure the others from Christian's office will come, even if they do it only in order to keep Christian informed of my condition," Mateo said, "and Miss Leslie and Mr. Roarke probably will stop in and visit when they can. They'll be able to tell either you or Christian what sort of progress I'm making. Anna-Kristina, all you do anymore is stay at home and care for Natalia, ever since you quit your job after she arrived last year. You never seem to get out and do anything, even just to visit people—including Christian and Miss Leslie. E-mail is nice, but it doesn't substitute for actual contact. If you refuse to go and meet your sister and cousins in Canberra, and try to visit me, I'll leave strict orders with the doctors and nurses here not to let you into this room."
"You couldn't," Anna-Kristina said. "You wouldn't."
"I would," Mateo said flatly. "Go, and I mean it. It'll do you good to get away. And you never know—when you return I could very well be back on my feet and as good as new again. Natalia should have a chance to get used to the family, and be presented to your country's people—she is a princess, after all. I mean it—I want you to go."
"Suppose…?" Anna-Kristina began, but let her voice trail off.
Mateo grimaced. "You do enjoy entertaining the worst-case scenario, don't you, my Anna-Kristina. If I know that you're enjoying your time with the family and giving our little girl a chance to know her mother's family, I'll be able to put more energy into getting well again. For the last time, go." He rolled his head on the pillow till he was facing Leslie. "Miss Leslie, will you please see to it that she gets on that plane with Natalia?"
Leslie grinned and playfully saluted him. "On the double, admiral. The next charter leaves within the hour, so I suggest you finish the discussion so we can get Anna-Kristina and Natalia ready for their trip."
‡ ‡ ‡
Leslie saw to it that Anna-Kristina and Natalia were well and truly aboard the noon charter when it took off for Honolulu, and at lunch she gave Roarke a progress report. "It still seems a little peculiar to me that he'd insist they go, under the circumstances," she mused, sipping at raspberry lemonade. "Why would anyone do that?"
Roarke looked up; there was an odd quality to his expression, and she wondered what was on his mind. "Mateo has always been extremely private," he said. "I am afraid it would quite amaze me if he accepted any other visitors while Anna-Kristina and their daughter are away." He offered no more information than that, leaving Leslie wondering what was bothering him.
"Just seems kind of overly macho to me," she murmured.
Roarke smiled at that. "Perhaps so," he said, "but I think there's more to it than that. Mateo says very little, Leslie, but it's my belief that in the wake of the accident that was brought on by his narcolepsy, and the resulting limp, he sees himself as fundamentally weakened, and doesn't like for others to see him that way. He worked for me in some capacity from his high-school days, by which time his parents were already deceased. He had to support himself; like you, he had no other living family. And until he met Anna-Kristina, he had never set foot off this island."
"He never really left again after they came back from Lilla Jordsö, either," Leslie said, thinking back. "In fact, he shouldn't even have gone to Coral Island back in December, now that I think of it. Christian said he had to send him only because Julianne wasn't available—she was handling a service call, and Mateo volunteered to go." She frowned. "I thought Coral Island was better developed than that."
"Coral Island receives a great deal of rain," Roarke said, "and it's not as developed as it appears to anyone coming in via the American military base. Since the attacks of September 11, 2001, security has tightened greatly, and there is little, if any, intermixing between base residents and those in the native village on the other side of the island." He saw her perplexed look. "All servicemen and their families who are transferred to the Coral Island base are vaccinated against various tropical diseases, including malaria, before they leave the United States. The natives there have no such protection, and my jurisdiction is limited to this island only. I can protect only those who live here, and I have done that to the very best of my abilities. I've seen to it that mosquito breeding areas are drained, I've made certain that all islanders know that vaccines are available for their use. But even I cannot make anyone take preventive measures, and clearly, Mateo did not."
"You'd think he would," Leslie said, amazed. "He has more than enough common sense to know that it was just prudent. Maybe it was that 'macho man' thing again, but that would've been carrying it to extremes."
Roarke shook his head. "Unfortunately, speculation will do us no good now. In spite of all we could do, Mateo was infected, and now we can only hope that he will recover. In the meantime, I have been in contact with the base, and the officials there tell me that they are contemplating drastic measures—isolating the base from the rest of the world, for one thing. I have a meeting with the island council tonight in regard to the matter."