Page 7 of Letter for Two
Why hadn’t he thought to ask her? She’d lived in the same house since the late 1950s. “Was there an Eleanor Bartlett?”
Mrs. Garcia thought for a moment. “Caroline, Norma, and... Delores. Those were all the girls in the family. No Eleanor.”
Ethan leaned back against the railing. If Mrs. Garcia didn’t know of an Eleanor living at their house in 1966, maybe they’d never find her.
“Were there any Eleanors on the street? Maybe the envelope was addressed wrong.”
But Mrs. Garcia was quick to shake her head. “I can’t think of any.”
“I’m friends with Norma Bartlett on Facebook,” Mrs. Garcia’s daughter said.
Both Ethan and Mrs. Garcia stared at her for a minute.
“Don’t look so shocked. I’m hip to social media.”
Ethan had a momentary flashback to his childhood years of using terms likehip toandsquare.
"And, yes, I know Facebook is the social media for 'old people,'" Mrs. Garcia's daughter said with a little laugh. “I’ll ask Norma if she has any idea who this Eleanor might have been.”
“Thanks,” Ethan said. “We’d appreciate it. We’ve hit a bunch of dead ends.”
“Why don’t the two of you come over for dinner tonight?” Mrs. Garcia said. “We’ll make enchiladas.”
Ethan was game, but he didn’t know what Sophia’s plans were. “I’ll ask her when she gets home.”
“Do.” Mrs. Garcia wiggled her white eyebrows.
Ethan couldn’t help laughing.
***
“Enchiladas. Mmm.”
Sophia walked at Ethan’s side down the street toward Mrs. Garcia’s house. She had agreed to their dinner appointment without hesitation. Ethan hoped the promise of his company was as much a part of her motivation as Mrs. Garcia’s enchiladas.
“Do you think she’ll make tamales at Christmas again this year?” Sophia asked. “I was the most popular person in the office last December when I brought them in.”
“I convinced one of my colleagues to switch shifts with me so I could have a five-day weekend thanks to Mrs. Garcia’s tamales,” Ethan said. “They’re worth their weight in gold.”
“Just don’t tell her that,” Sophia said, a twinkle in her eyes. “She’ll start charging us their weight in gold.”
Ethan had the strongest urge to hold her hand. He had to tuck his hands into his jeans pockets to keep from acting on it. He’d made progress with their sort-of relationship, but he didn’t think he’d reached that point yet.
Mrs. Garcia’s daughter let them in. The house smelled amazing. Ethan’s stomach growled loudly, earning him a shoulder push from Sophia.
“It’s not my fault,” Ethan said. “I missed breakfast.”
“You probably slept through breakfast. You were pretty wiped out last night.” She didn’t seem embarrassed or annoyed by it.
“I feel like an idiot. You feed me dinner then I crash on your couch.”
She waved that off. “It’s not like you’re a total stranger.”
Mrs. Garcia hugged them both and welcomed them. They took seats next to each other at the table. The dinner was every bit as mouthwatering as Ethan knew it would be. And Mrs. Garcia and her daughter were every bit as matchmaking minded as he feared they would be.
When he filled Sophia’s cup with water, Mrs. Garcia commented on how sweet it was of him. When Sophia passed the salsa without him having to ask, Mrs. Garcia’s daughter wondered out loud when the two of them had come to know each other so well. They helped clear the table, and Mrs. Garcia declared they were “such a great team.”
Sophia’s cheeks pinked up. Was she embarrassed? Or was she blushing because shewasinterested in him but hadn’t admitted it yet? Either way, he wasn’t going to let her face the teasing alone. He set his arm around her shoulders. She didn’t pullaway. Not even a little. He might have been deluding himself, but Ethan thought she even leaned a little closer.
