“I’m good,” she said shyly, very different from the girl that entered the house so loudly just a few moments earlier. “You’re pretty. You look a little like my mommy.” The words hit me hard as I thought to myself that her mom was far more beautiful, as well as reading her expression as she told me that.
“I…thank you,” I told her as I flushed a dark pink. I looked at Nick and Rebecca, both of whom were giving me apologetic eyes as I smiled assuringly at them. I looked back at Carmen, who was slowly smiling at me as I walked towards her dad. “Hello, Nick. Thank you for the opportunity here in this gorgeous house. It’s great to be back home.”
“You didn’t tell me she was a local,” Rebecca teased her brother as he glanced at me with a small smile. He knew a lot about me from emails and calls and kept it quiet. I liked that.
“I am. I have been living in Massachusetts for the past several years and was happy to come back here. You know the big city life, Rebecca. I miss this peace and slower way.” She laughed and nodded as Nick looked at her.
“I do envy you guys, but it would be hard to work at a Chicago paper if I didn’t live there,” she laughed as I looked at Nick again. “I think this will work out well.” Carmen was already easing closer to me, and I watched her quietly, the room going quiet as everybody focused on her.
We ended up in the kitchen together once Carmen and I got my bags from the car. She helped me carry them to the bedroom, which was beautiful and spacious, and I made a trip across the room to the windows to look over the long beach before me. Carmen showed me the way downstairs, losing her shyness as she told me that we were going to make enchiladas with Aunt Becca for dinner.
I learned that their mother was Spanish and this recipe was an old family one. I watched as Carmen got involved with the process as much as she could at her age, amazed at her apparent acceptance of her loss. She didn’t break down when she told me that I looked like her mom, though there was some sadness deep in her eyes.
Everything was homemade, and I helped with laughter, knowing that my mom was the cook in the family. I tried with Sean, especially since I was at home during the day but the crock pot was my best friend. I pushed him out of my mind as we worked on shredding the chicken and getting the sauce down to a liquid form. Rebecca cooked the tortillas, and then Carmen filled them before they were placed in the oven to cook, at which point Rebecca finished the beans on the stove. “I might not let you go home, Bec. This smells delicious.” Nick told her warmly as his sister smiled at him.
“Do you cook?” Rebecca asked me as I laughed.
“Barely. I’m glad that there’s a chef here, but I wouldn’t mind learning a little along the way,” I said as I glanced at Nick. He was talking closely with Carmen at the table by now and focused on his daughter. “This kitchen screams for someone to work in it.” It was large and modern with all the latest appliances, something that Rebecca apparently loved.
“Tell me about it. My apartment has a tiny little kitchen, but I make it work,” Rebecca said, winking at me. “I’ll give you some of Mom’s recipes to play around with. We lost her right after Carmen came along and it’s a nice memory for Nick.” I vowed to do that as best as I could as I nodded and smiled.
Once we were sitting at the long table in the dining room surrounded by more windows, I took a bite of the enchiladas and sighed happily. “These are so good,” I told Rebecca and Carmen as they smiled.
“This is a nice way to celebrate the time with my family. I’m leaving on Friday to go back to Chicago,” Rebecca told me, holding Carmen’s hand beside her. That was in roughly a day and a half, and I frowned as I wondered if that would be enough time to adjust to everything.
I observed them the rest of the night, noting that Carmen worked on homework either before or after dinner. That depended on the day’s events, and after she was done and by seven-thirty, she was in a bath or shower and bed by eight fifteen. Carmen loved a bedtime story, and Rebecca told me over a glass of wine once she was asleep that her niece was trying to read them to someone while she learned to read at school. It was challenging at times but also excellent for her. “There will be wine in the fridge for those nights. I bought a bunch for you, not that you need to be getting drunk around my sweet girl.” She chuckled as I shook my head at her. “What brought you back here apart from the job?”
“Divorce. I was married for two years and it…ended. I wasn’t happy on my own there, and my mother caught wind of this job, so here I am. It worked out perfectly, and I hope that this is a good fit for all of us.” I looked around the living room with a smile. “I love my mother, but like the idea of being on my own, so to speak. She’s a beautiful girl as well.”