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“Yes. Exactly.”
They went into the kitchen, and Wilda sat next to Caleb. Milo took the casserole out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool for a few minutes. He set a bowl of chips and two containers of salsa on the table.
“You can start with this while the casserole cools.”
“What makes it a casserole and not just enchiladas?”
“Instead of filling and rolling the tortillas, they’re laid flat and layered with chicken, cheese, sauce, and green chilis.” He picked up a chip and dipped it. “If the little dude doesn’t like the chilis, he can eat around them.” He set a bowl of refried beans on the table, then placed the glass casserole dish in the middle. “I’m going to have a beer. Do you want one?”
“Water will be fine for both of us, please.”
Milo poured two glasses of water, then sat down with his beer. “Okay, dig in.”
Wilda smiled. “Thank you for this.” She nudged Caleb. “Isn’t this nice of Milo to make us dinner on our first night here?”
Caleb nodded, then took a chip and ate it.
Wilda and Caleb both had second servings, and Milo had a third. He was stuffed by the time he finished, and he stood with a grunt. “Oh, man. I ate too much.”
“You put away a lot of food.”
“I think it was the chips that pushed me over the edge.” He picked up his empty beer bottle. “I guess this didn’t help, either.” He tossed the bottle into the recycling bin, then grabbed his plate and took it to the sink.
Wilda stood and brought her and Caleb’s plates. “I’ll do the dishes.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“I insist.”
He looked at her for a moment. “How about we do them together?”
She turned to Caleb. “Honey, you can go play in the room until I’m done with the dishes. Then it’s bath time.”
Caleb ran off, and Wilda went to the sink while Milo cleared the table. “So, no dishwasher?”
“Not in a kitchen built in the 1920s.”
She turned on the water and plugged the sink. “I prefer to handwash the dishes even when I have a dishwasher. Tom thought I was—” She added soap to the hot water. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
“It’s really weird. I went for almost a year without speaking his name. But lately, he’s been on my mind a lot.”
“You’ve been on a bit of an emotional journey since you got here. Big move, Caleb in school and making progress, stupid landlords.”
“I guess so.”
“How long were you married?”
“Three years. But we started dating in high school.”
“I’m sorry you lost him, Wilda.”
She washed a plate, then handed it to him. “Thank you. Sometimes it feels like he’s been gone forever. Other times, it feels like it was just yesterday.” She picked up another plate. “And… I’d like to change the subject now.”
“We should paint the fireplace tomorrow.”
Wilda nudged him. “I think that’s a great idea.”
