“‘Ellie’?” Sophia repeated. “Could that be short for Eleanor?”
Mrs. Garcia’s daughter looked over her spectacles at them. “I’d say so. I asked about any Eleanors at their house, and she thought of her aunt right off.”
Sophia looked up at Ethan, excitement twinkling in her beautiful brown eyes. “This could be it. We might have solved the mystery.”
“Sounds like it.” He tentatively set his arm around her again. She leaned against him.
Breathe. Breathe.
“Will you let us know what Norma hears from her cousin?” Sophia asked Mrs. Garcia’s daughter.
“Of course.”
They spent the rest of the evening comfortable on the love seat. She stayed there with his arm around her shoulder while they talked to the older women. Ethan’s heart pounded so hard, he expected it to pop right out of ribs. But Sophia was there with him. He wouldn’t change a thing.
The walk back to their house was slow and leisurely. They didn’t talk much, just walked.
They stopped on their porch, standing there in awkward silence. Ethan wasn’t sure what to say. Should he talk about Eleanor? That was what had finally brought them together. But if that was all they had to talk about, where could their relationship even go?
“I can’t wait to hear if the Bartletts’ aunt Ellie is the Eleanor from our letter,” Sophia said.
“That’d be cool.” That’d be cool? What is this, high school? I’m being a complete idiot.
Sophia leaned against her door. Did that mean she was anxious to go inside? Ethan never had been good at figuring those things out. “I wonder if Ellie is still alive,” Sophia said. “She’s probably Mrs. Garcia’s age.”
“Probably.”
Sophia brushed a stray ebony hair out of her face. The gesture was mesmerizing. Either he was totally gone on her or... No. He was totally gone on her. That’s what it was.
“So... uh...” What could he say? Sometimes they talked about work, but he’d had the day off. “Maybe you could come over tomorrow night. I’ll cook.”
“Frozen pot pies?” Sophia’s smile got to him every time.
“Nah,” he said. “I have the day off. I’ll actually cook this time.”
“You really do know how to cook?” Obviously she doubted it.
Ethan leaned his shoulder against the wall near her, close enough for a conversation but with enough distance that she wouldn’t panic if he was interpreting this whole thing differently than she was.
“My brother and sister and I all had to learn to cook growing up,” Ethan said. “It wasn’t optional.”
“That’s smart. Your parents didn’t have to cook every night.” She turned so she was facing him more directly. “And now it makes you popular with your neighbors.”
“With all my neighbors?” Lamest pick-up line ever.
Sophia shrugged. “Probably not with Mrs. Garcia or her daughter. They can out cook anyone.”
“I’ll give it my best shot,” Ethan said.
She brushed at that same stray hair, which made Ethan wonder if doing so was some kind of signal he didn’t know about.
“So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Sophia said.
Disappointment settled like a weight in his chest. He wasn’t the smoothest of guys, but he was making some progress. If she went inside this soon, he’d never get past the standing-near-her-on-the-porch stage to any of the other stages that came next. He’d had his arm around her at Mrs. Garcia’s house, but she hadn’t held his hand on the way home, hadn’t lingered very close by when they got home.
“Yeah.” He did his best to act like it was no big deal. “See you after work tomorrow.”
“See ya.”
She slipped inside, closing the door behind her. Ethan stayed on the porch, telling himself he was an idiot. Either she wasn’t interested and he was chasing after her pointlessly, or she was interested, and he just blew it.
Chapter Five
Sophia left work about an hour early so she’d have time to shower and change before walking across the porch to Ethan’s side of the house. Something had gone wrong the night before, but she still had no idea what. He’d sat with his arm around her on Mrs. Garcia’s couch. He’d walked home with her, and a couple of times, she thought he was going to hold her hand. But he never did. Then, on the porch, she’d leaned in a little close to him, fussed with her hair, gave him her best I’m interested smile, and he still didn’t take her hand or try to hug her. He certainly didn’t look like he’d wanted to kiss her.
Though Sophia didn’t think she could blame her personal hygiene, she wasn’t taking any chances. She blow dried her hair and added some curl with her flatiron. She pulled on her favorite pair of skinny jeans, coupling it with a great top she’d found at a boutique nearby and a pair of yellow ballet flats.
She gave herself a quick check. Casual but on trend. Nice, but not like she was trying too hard.
“Just don’t blow it,” she told her reflection.
Sophia knocked at Ethan’s door. She was even more nervous than she had been three nights before when she’d first had dinner with him. Had it really only been three days? She’d known him for months, but the past week had seemed the longest part of it, in the best way. She’d started believing it was possible that he returned her feelings. The combination of hope and doubt was exhausting.
The door opened.
“Hey, Sophia.” He always greeted her with Hey. Was she just imagining that he’d said it with more feeling than he used to?
“Hey.”
“Are you up for a car trip?” Ethan asked.
She hadn’t seen that coming. “Trying to get out of cooking dinner again?”
He chuckled. She loved the sound of his deep, rumbling laugh. “Nope. Mrs. Garcia’s daughter talked to her friend Norma’s cousin.”
“I hope I’m not expected to repeat that.”
His smile was adorably lopsided. She couldn’t help smiling back.
“This cousin,” he said, “is the daughter of her aunt Ellie, whose full name, as it turns out is Eleanor Gibbons.”
Sophia’s heart leapt at the name. “Is she our Eleanor?”
Ethan stepped onto the porch next to her. “It looks like she is. She did, in fact, live in this house with the Bartletts in 1953 and part of 1954.”
Excitement twisted her stomach around. Her mind raced. No words would fully form on her lips.
“Grab the letter,” Ethan said. “We’re headed to Paradise Valley.”
“What’s in Paradise Valley?”
He set a hand on each of her arms just below the shoulders and looked excitedly into her eyes. “Eleanor.”
“She’s still alive?”
He nodded. “She’s living with her daughter, the one Mrs. Garcia’s daughter found. They’re expecting us tonight.”
“I can’t believe this. We found her in less than a week.”
“Grab the letter,” he repeated. His eyes danced with as much anticipation as she felt.
In a matter of minutes, she had the letter, phone, and purse and was sitting in the passenger seat of Ethan’s car heading north on Central. Would Eleanor be glad to see the letter? What if her memory was gone, and the letter meant nothing to her? What if it brought bad memories or sadness?
Her misgivings must have shown in her face. Ethan reached over and briefly squeezed her hand with his. “Whatever happens with Eleanor,” he said, “at least the letter will finally be delivered to the right person.”
“I’m dying to know what it says,” Sophia confessed. “I’ve been tempted to open it so many times. Do you think she’ll let us read it?”
“I don’t know.” He turned into the drive-through lane at Lenny’s Burger shop. “It’s not a gourmet meal, but—”
“Are you kidding? Lenny’s is the best. Besides, I could really go for a cheeseburger right now.”
“Bacon cheeseburger for me,” Ethan said. “And a chocolate milkshake.”
; “So basically you’re going to die of heart disease right here in the car.”
“What a way to go, huh?” he said.
Ethan didn’t let her pay for her meal, insisting he was treating, since he didn’t cook her the dinner he’d promised. Sophia decided to let that mean it was a date. A person could do that, right? Decide something was a date without actually asking the other person?
“My mom would kill me if she knew I was eating in the car,” Ethan said as he turned off Central and on to Indian School Road.
“Because it’s not healthy?” Sophia was digging in to her own meal, so she certainly wasn’t criticizing.
Ethan nodded. “And messy.”
Sophia would have added dangerous to the list, except Ethan put his burger down whenever he was actually driving, only taking bites at red lights. Either Ethan was a very safe driver, or, as a hospital nurse, he’d seen too many people after car accidents.
“Would you do me a favor?” Ethan asked.
“Sure.” She’d happily do just about anything for him.
“Grab my phone and turn on the GPS. I know basically where we’re headed, but not exactly.”
She picked up his phone from the between-seat console and turned on the screen.
“You seriously need a phone upgrade.” She searched through his apps until she found the GPS.
“Tell me about it. My contract’s up in a couple months, and I’m definitely getting rid of that dinosaur.”
The GPS app already had a Paradise Valley address entered, so she tapped “Navigate.” The phone voice told them to get on the Piestewa Freeway, something Ethan was already doing.
“So, you wanna come with me?” he asked.
Her immediate answer was yes, but she traded that out for the less desperate, “Go with you where?”
“To pick out a new phone,” he said. “You probably know all the new stuff.”
“Because I’m a computer geek?” She wiped ketchup from her mouth with a paper napkin.
“Exactly. And there’s nothing better than a computer geek helping out a wannabe technology geek, especially if that wannabe doesn’t want to end up stuck with a lame phone for another two years.”
Going shopping together. She liked the idea. “Does this mean you only like me for my brain?” Please don’t let that sound weird.
“Among other things.” He made the comment off hand, but it struck Sophia with tremendous force.
“Among other things.” What other things? But she didn’t ask. Sophia, when it came down to it, was a chicken.
They followed the phone’s directions all the way to a home which was modest by Paradise Valley standards. Sophia checked her teeth in the visor mirror. When she looked back toward Ethan, he was watching her with a completely unreadable look on his face. “What?”
He just shook his head and shrugged, the same half-smile, half something on his face. “Shall we go meet Eleanor?”
Sophia grabbed her purse— the letter was inside— and got out of the car. Ethan came around and met her there.
“I don’t know why I’m nervous about delivering this letter,” she said.
Then Ethan did something she wasn’t expecting. He held his hand out to her. She tentatively put hers in it, half convinced he’d pull away. Instead, he wrapped his fingers around hers and walked with her up the concrete walkway toward the front door.
“Don’t sweat it,” he said. “The worst they can do is slam the door in our faces. Or let their mastiff attack us on the doorstep.”
“Nice.” But she appreciated the teasing and the hand to hold.
Ethan rang the bell, and they waited. He didn’t let go of her hand but stood there as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
A woman answered the door, probably about the same age as Sophia’s mom.
“Hello. I’m Ethan Williams.”
“Yes.” The woman’s face lit up. “You’ve come with the letter. Come in. Come in.”
They stepped inside. Ethan squeezed her fingers for a moment, not letting her go. Sophia didn’t know which made her stomach flutter more: her nervousness over the letter or the feel of Ethan’s hand around hers.
“I’m Georgia,” the woman said.
“Sophia.”
“My mother is in the living room, but, if you don’t mind, I’d like to see the letter before we show it to her.” Georgia’s eyes moved from Ethan to Sophia and back again. “I haven’t told Mother about it. Her health is fragile, and since my father died, she’s so easily disappointed. If it’s not a letter to her, or nothing more than an old bill or something like that, I’d rather not get her hopes up.”
“Of course.” Sophia pulled the letter out of her purse and handed it to Georgia. She watched the woman’s face for some sign of recognition. Georgia turned the letter over in her hand a couple of times.
“I can see why you were stumped,” Georgia said. “I can’t make out a last name or a return address or anything. But my mother was living at that address for most of 1953, so I’d guess this letter was for her.”
A bubble of excitement began expanding in Sophia’s chest. They’d found Eleanor. She looked up at Ethan and saw the same eagerness in his face.
Georgia broke the seal on the envelope and carefully pulled out the paper. Sophia held more tightly to Ethan’s hand. She’d wondered again and again what was in that letter. They would soon know.
“Oh, good heavens.” Georgia gasped, pressing a hand to her lips. “This is a letter from my father.” She glanced at the two of them before returning her gaze to the letter. “He wrote it just before he left for Korea.”
This was the right Eleanor! Sophia grasped Ethan’s arm with her free hand, hardly able to contain her excitement.
“I know,” he whispered, not needing her to explain her enthusiasm.
“Mother will be beside herself.” Georgia’s grin spread ever wider. “Do you mind staying a few minutes? I’d love for her to meet the couple who found this letter.”
Ethan agreed without even a word of correction on their couple status. Sophia wasn’t about to make any objections.
“Mother,” Georgia said as they came into the living room. “This is Ethan and Sophia. They live in the Bartletts’ old house.”
A woman seated in an easy chair near a tall window looked up at them as they approached. She had hair the brilliant shade of white that never failed to look sophisticated. Her face bore the tell-tale wrinkles of age, but her eyes looked as alive and alert as a twenty-year-old’s. This was their Eleanor.
“How is the old house?” Eleanor asked. Her frail frame trembled as she sat there, but she kept her gaze firmly on them.
“It’s charming.” Ethan sat on the sofa nearest her. “And the ash tree in the front yard, I’m told, was a sapling when you lived there.”
Eleanor nodded. “I helped my nieces and nephew plant it while I lived with them.”
Sophia leaned against Ethan as he talked to Eleanor about the house and neighborhood. He had a way with people. Had he developed that ability out of necessity in his profession, or had the talent led him to his chosen career? Either way, Sophia knew he was good with his patients. She hoped they appreciated him.
Ethan leaned back and shifted so his arm rested around Sophia. He’d done that the night before at Mrs. Garcia’s. He tucked her into the crook of his arm. Sophia gladly settled there.
“They brought something for you, Mother,” Georgia said when the conversation lulled a bit. She gave her mother the yellowed envelope with the letter folded alongside it. “This was delivered to their house, but it’s addressed to you.”
“For me?” Curiosity filled every line of Eleanor’s face. She put on her reading glasses hanging from a chain around her neck. “1953? My, but this was late in coming.”
Sophia and Ethan watched in silence as Eleanor read the letter. Her eyes slowly filled with tears.
“Mother?”
Eleanor pressed the open letter to her heart. “It’s from my
Jerry. My sweet, sweet Jerry.”
Georgia watched her mother with an equally teary expression. A lump started to form in Sophia’s throat as well.
“Oh, I can’t tell you what this means.” Eleanor’s voice broke a little. “He says he misses me. That he hopes I’ll find something to pass the time while we’re apart, that he’ll see me again soon.” Her lips and voice trembled. “I can hear him saying those words, those exact words to me now. Then he was off to Korea. Now he’s...”
Sophia pressed her lips together to keep them steady. Now he’s passed on. Eleanor missed her husband, likely more than she had when he’d gone to war. And this letter, lost for so many decades, was like a voice from the past, helping ease the loneliness.
Eleanor insisted on hugging them both several times and thanking them over and over. She and Georgia were in tears by the time Ethan and Sophia left. She got as far as the curb before she had to blink back a tear herself.
Ethan hadn’t gone around to get in the car. He stood beside her, one hand on the door handle. “Sophia?” He looked a little concerned.
She shook her head and smiled at him. “I’m so glad we got that letter to her. It meant so much.”
“So am I.” Ethan glanced back at the house. “She obviously misses her husband. It’s nice to give her back a piece of their life together.”
“Makes me hope we’ll get another sixty-year-old letter,” Sophia said.
Ethan opened her door. “Maybe we will.”
In another minute, they were on their way. Night had fallen and, with it, a calm peacefulness.
“We make a pretty good mystery-solving team,” Ethan said.
“Yeah. Look out, Scooby-Doo,” she said. “Although I was sad that no one blamed something on us ‘meddling kids.’”
“That would have been awesome.” There, again, was that deep chuckle she liked so much.
They talked about inconsequential things all the way back home. It was an easy conversation, comfortable, and blessedly not awkward. But it also wasn’t deep or personal. Not promising.
She’d only fallen more in love with him over the hours they’d spent searching for Eleanor. She desperately wanted him to feel the same way.
Autumn Anthology Page 17
