I stared at the old clock that was hanging on our cracked wall. It was quarter past two. The Navy Lodge was a few miles away, so I would have to leave enough time to walk. Ay, Dios mío, what would I wear?
I turned to Mónica and grabbed her shoulders. “¡Ayudeme! I need you to watch Ana María and pick me out an outfit. Something simple and classy. Nothing tight. I’m going to finish these enchiladas and bring them to the interview. Do not tell Mama where I went if she decides to come home.”
Mónica’s face dropped as she gazed longingly at the enchiladas. “Our enchiladas? What will we eat?”
“Beans and rice and tortillas. Military men like to eat. These enchiladas could be our ticket.”
“Sí, entiendo. You got this. You’re great with kids. If he hires you, I’ll help out completely back here, no attitude, I swear.”
My hand shook. How would this even work if I got this job? Who would take care of my sisters? My mom wasn’t reliable. My only option was my uncle. He was a goddamn mess, but at least he would be there—he never left his couch.
I stared at Mónica. She was completely capable of watching Ana María for ten weeks. If I was offered this job, we could make it work.
Mónica tilted her head. “I wonder if he’s an Angel? I bet he’s smoking hot.”
A Blue Angel pilot . . . he had to be if he was offering one thousand dollars a week. No enlisted man in the support team of the Angels would pay that much money. An infant? Where was her mother?
For ten weeks every year, the Blue Angels descended from the heavens and landed in El Centro. The Angels were notorious as much for their sky stunts as they were for their land antics. They would hit the bars here, romancing the young local Mexican girls who dreamed of a life as a naval aviator’s wife. It was like the sucia version of An Officer and a Gentleman, minus the happy ending; no Blue Angel had ever married a local girl.
But I didn’t want to fall in love. I didn’t believe in love. I had never experienced anything even close to love. I wanted a job. I needed a job. A job that could put food on the table, give me enough money to flee this town, and save my sisters from this fate.
My hand shook as I picked back up my temolote and finished grinding the ingredients. I dipped my finger into the molcajete and sampled my salsa verde. The delectable green sauce was perfectly spicy, yet tangy. I spread the mixture over the chicken enchiladas, crafted with homemade tortillas and lots of love, just like my late abuela had taught me. All of the lovers that Mama brought home couldn’t get enough of my cooking. Abuelita would always say, “Un hombre se conquista por el estómago.” The way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Maybe that was why Mama could never keep a man—she couldn’t cook at all.
There would be hundreds of women, and possibly even men, applying for this job. I was amazing with kids and had pretty much raised my sisters myself. Even so, I needed an edge. When they were in town, these Angels would haunt the local restaurants, devouring the native cuisine. Carne asada burritos, carnitas adobadas, chile verde, tacos el carbon—those rich white boys couldn’t get enough of our food. Maybe my cooking could truly be my ticket to a new life.
I grabbed a copy of my résumé from the bookshelf and placed it in my purse. Mónica walked back into the kitchen, holding Mama’s best dress, a navy blue sheath with white trim. It was usually reserved for church, which was why it was in good shape. Mama hated to attend for fear she would be judged. A fear in this small town with her shameless behavior that was definitely warranted.
I slipped it over my head and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror; the reflection of a tired, slim, desperate girl staring right back at me. Well, at least the dress fit perfectly, not too tight or too baggy.
Mónica grabbed a little bag under the sink. “Let me do your makeup.”
I shook my head. “No, this is a job interview, not a date.”
“Right. And you need to look your best. Give me five minutes.”
I gave up and let her have her way with me. I needed this job so badly it hurt. As Mónica started applying foundation, I exhaled and did something I hadn’t done in years.
I prayed.
Once a devout Catholic, I had stopped going to church when my abuela died after being hit by a drunk driver. My abuela hadn’t even been that old at only fifty-five. Without her guidance, we Pérez girls had fallen apart. Mama only cared about herself, and now it was up to me to be the adult in the household.
After a few more agonizing minutes of Mónica dabbing, blotting, and painting my skin, she finally released me.
“Look at yourself! You’re beautiful. I would definitely hire you to watch my baby.”
I looked in the mirror again, and this time I saw how green my eyes looked enhanced by the purple shadow and how my curled eyelashes made me appear awake even when I was getting by on only hours of sleep.
But more importantly, I saw an expression I hadn’t seen in the mirror since I’d given up my college scholarship because I was afraid of how my sisters would survive without me.
I saw hope.
2
Enchiladas Verdes
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
My beautiful wife, Catherine, should be sitting here with me now, playing with our little girl, deeply entrenched in the joys of motherhood.
We had been so excited to spend these ten weeks in El Centro with our daughter, Sky. Ten weeks that we would’ve been able to spend together without me having to fly to other cities for airshows. Catherine and I couldn’t wait to return to this tragic town that despite having so little resources had welcomed us with open arms. We wanted to spend our three months here truly bonding as a new family. I couldn’t wait to come home every night to my wife. I had dreamed of bonding with our daughter before I had to leave her again every week to entertain the public by doing aerial tricks.
Now, spending time with my little girl was the only dream I had left.
I pulled back the curtains in my room at the Navy Lodge and jerked my head back when I saw that the line was wrapped around the entire hotel. There were men, women, even teenagers outside, all desperate for a chance to make a living in this border town.
I should forget this stupid idea.
Sure, I could’ve hired a nanny to travel with me from one of those fancy agencies. And I had definitely considered it. The ones I had interviewed had impressive résumés, but they had lacked heart. None of them seemed to truly need or even want to watch my baby.
I also could’ve left Sky back at home with her grandparents who had pretty much taken care of her alone last year while I flew around the country four days a week. But I had made a promise to my dying wife. A promise that I wouldn’t leave Sky somewhere else to be raised when I was stationed somewhere for a few months. A promise that I would give someone the opportunity of a lifetime.
An even more importantly, I didn’t want to be away from Sky any longer than I had to.
It had been my wife’s idea to place an ad in El Centro’s newspaper. We had lived here together last year, and Sky was born in this town. Catherine had loved the warmth of the people here, their hard work ethic, their perseverance in the face of adversity. When she’d had only moments to live, she’d made me promise that I would find a nanny out here when I returned. And dammit, I was a man of my word. Especially to her.
But how was I going to choose?
Sky cooed in the corner, happy in her swing. She was a happy, chubby baby, and thankfully a good sleeper, though recently she had been restless at night because she was teething. Since moving back here a week ago, the officers’ wives had taken shifts helping to care for her when I was at work. I was grateful for their support, but it did nothing to soothe the ache in my heart from losing the love of my life. But as much as I was certain that I would never love again, I missed being around women. Their scent, their touch, their taste. My friends’ wives offered to set me up with their friends, but I had no interest in dating. And the idea of having a one-night stand held no ap
peal to me. I needed to set a good example for my little girl and hooking up with random women I had no intention of getting serious with was not a step in the right direction.
Even so, I felt guilty that she didn’t have a mommy. A woman in her life that would love her the way Catherine did. Her grandparents and I adored her, but we were no substitute for a mother’s love.
I picked Sky up, planted a kiss on her forehead and took her into the other room where I rocked her to sleep and then placed her in her crib. Once she was out, I quietly exited the room.
As an officer, I was used to taking control and had already planned a strategy for today. I was going to ask everyone the same question. What are you going to do with the money? And I knew exactly what I was looking for in that answer. I wanted someone who was selfless, wanted to help others, and had a clear plan of exactly what they would do with the money. I wanted to change someone’s life. And I wanted someone who clearly loved children and didn’t just see this as a job.
My buddy, Sawyer, opened the door to my room. “Ready?”
“Yup. Let them in.”
Sawyer had offered to be crowd control. He was also an Angel, but—unlike me—Sawyer was a womanizer. He had a girl in every city. Not that I could blame him—Blue Angels really were the rock stars of the air. But that kind of life had never appealed to me. Catherine had been my high school sweetheart. We had dated long-distance when I attended the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis, and after I graduated, we were married in the chapel. She had been a great wife. She had been faithful to me during my many deployments to the Middle East, had never once complained as I chased my dreams, supported me fully even when we spent years apart. All of our future plans had been cruelly ripped from us during what was supposed to be the happiest time of our life. All I had left of Catherine was our baby. And I would do everything in my power to give her the life Catherine wanted for her.
The first batch of people shuffled through the room one at a time, repeating their similar tragic life stories. Out of work for years, the money would go to feed their children, get out of debt, pay for medical bills. But with none of them did I truly think that this opportunity would change their lives. It seemed instead like a Band-Aid. And once the money ran out, they would be stuck in the same place they were before they had this job. I thanked every one of them and told them I would contact them tomorrow if they were chosen. Even my numb heart ached at the despair in these confessions. Maybe I had been wrong. Maybe I wouldn’t be able to choose. Maybe I wouldn’t find what I needed.
I closed my eyes and prayed to the heavens. “Please, Catherine. Help me out here. Give me a sign. Something.”
After about an hour more of interviews, I had begun to lose hope. Then a girl with an incredible body entered the room. Her jet-black hair framed her angelic face, and her pale green eyes gazed at me over the casserole dish she was holding. I forced myself not to undress her with my eyes, but I couldn’t help but notice how incredibly beautiful she was. She handed me a résumé and then cautiously peeled back the tin foil, and the scent of roasted tomatillos, corn tortillas, and cheese filled the air.
My eyes widened when I saw the enchiladas verdes. My favorite. Catherine and I had spent last winter trying every Mexican restaurant in El Centro on a quest for the best enchiladas. Was this my sign?
“Hello, sir. My name is Paloma Pérez. I would be honored to apply for the nanny position. I’m a hard worker, and I love babies. I raised my sisters pretty much myself. I was also valedictorian of my high school class, and I am CPR certified. And I cook, too. I’d be happy to cook for you every day. Would you like to try these enchiladas? I made them from scratch—even the tortillas and the sauce. It’s made with fresh, roasted tomatillos.”
My stomach rumbled, and my mouth watered in anticipation of this home-cooked meal. I had been existing on fast food, ramen, and pizza since my wife had passed, but I needed to get my act in gear for the upcoming season. I had to be one hundred percent focused on flying, or my fellow pilots could be killed. Even worse, I could crash into a crowd of innocent spectators. After Catherine had died, the Navy had offered to give my slot to another pilot, but I had quickly shot down that idea. No way. I had worked toward this dream my entire life. Catherine would be livid if I stopped living my life to mourn her. I had to push forward, no matter how much it hurt. For Catherine. For Sky.
“I’d love to. Thank you, Paloma. I’m Beckett Daly. Nice to meet you.”
Paloma’s face brightened into a smile and she looked around the room’s kitchenette. “Can I get you a plate? A drink? I would’ve brought something. I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, don’t apologize. I’ll get the plates.” I stood up and grabbed two plates from the cupboard, utensils, and a wide spatula. I fought the urge to pop open a beer in front of her and instead reached for two glasses which I filled with water. After I served the food, I sat down at the table and invited Paloma to sit next to me.
I dug my fork into the enchiladas, and the second the bite hit my mouth, my taste buds were in heaven. The enchiladas were not too mild, not too hot. Just perfectly spiced, tart and fresh. Before I could come up for air, I took another bite, and then another. I devoured one of the enchiladas on my plate and became completely lost in this amazing dish. For the first time since my wife died, I felt satisfied. Catherine would’ve loved them.
But she couldn’t. She was dead. And here I was gorging myself on this applicant’s food, enjoying this delectable dish, feeling happy.
Hell, I felt guilty eating enchiladas without Catherine.
I pushed back my plate.
“These are delicious.”
“Thank you, Mr. Daly.”
“I go by Beck. Where did you learn to cook?”
“My grandmother taught me. I love to cook. I can make anything you like to eat. All the Mexican specialties, of course—flautas, burritos, tacos. But I can learn anything else you like. Hamburgers, spaghetti, meatloaf. You name it, I’ll make it.”
Her desperation hung thick in the air, and I wasn’t ignorant to the fact that there were still at least a hundred other people in line. I had to give everyone a chance, but I was entranced by the girl sitting in front of me. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I was insanely attracted to her, despite myself.
“So, tell me, Paloma, how would you spend your day with my daughter, Sky? She’s nine months old.”
She grinned. “Oh. I love that age. We would have so much fun. I don’t believe in any screen time, and I don’t watch television. We would sing songs, play games, take walks around the base, go to the park. I would read to her every day and go to the library. I’d be available for any playdates with any other babies on base. And I have this Mommy and Me yoga video I used to do with my sister. Ana María loved it.”
I winced. Catherine had bought a bunch of Mommy and Me yoga DVDs. She had dreamed of doing them with Sky. It had completely slipped my mind until Paloma mentioned it.
Yoga. Another sign.
But I wasn’t convinced yet.
“What would you do with the money you would earn as my daughter’s nanny?”
She gulped and took a deep breath. “I’ll be honest with you, sir. My mom is a mess. She had me young, she drinks and runs around with men. I take care of my two sisters, and we often don’t have enough food to eat. They are good girls, but I worry about their future. I want them to go to college. There aren’t any jobs around here in El Centro. I have a high school degree, but I turned down my college scholarship because I just couldn’t abandon my sisters here with my mom.”
Her voice cracked, and I was worried that she would cry. Paloma had just said that her family was hungry, yet she had given me food.
She spoke rapidly as if she had interpreted my silence as a reason to up the ante. “I would take the money and move to San Diego. Leave this town forever. It would be enough to get a tiny studio apartment. We are used to being crammed into one room. I would get a job and attend college part-time. It would be
a struggle, but we would make it work.” She paused and bit her lip. “Please give me a chance, sir. I won’t disappoint you. This opportunity would change my life.”
Bam. And there it was. The sign I had been waiting for hit me over the head like the sound of thunder crashing on my plane. I had struggled with my faith daily since my wife had died, and Paloma’s presence forced me to remind myself that even though I was in deep pain, I was blessed. I had a great career, a beautiful daughter, had been married to a wonderful, loving wife, and had food to eat. Had Catherine sent our baby girl and me this message?
“I hope this isn’t inappropriate, but do you have a boyfriend? I’m not interested in having any drama.”
“No, sir. I don’t have a boyfriend, or any desire to have one. I don’t date at all. My only focus is on taking care of my sisters and getting a job.”
I paused. Her sisters. If her mom was so irresponsible, who would watch them if she took this job?
“This is a live-in nanny position. You would have to spend the night. Who would watch your sisters?”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about my sisters. They would stay with my uncle. I’ve spoken to my sister, Mónica, who is fourteen, and she has agreed to step up and help with our youngest sister, Ana María, who is six, if I am blessed enough to get this job.”
She bit her lip when she mentioned her uncle and I wondered if she was lying about him being able to take care of them. She had also mentioned she had turned down a college scholarship to take care of her sisters. Couldn’t her uncle have watched them then? Maybe he was willing to take care of them for ten weeks, but not forever.
My heart constricted in my chest. I had gotten her hopes up. I couldn’t let her down now. But I had to let her know what she was in for by working for me. And I had to see if she would be good with Sky.
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