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“It’s got a little kick, but you should be fine,” I assured him. “I’m not much for the kind of spice that’s so hot, you can’t even taste what you’re eating.”
“Hmm.”
He didn’t say anything else, though, only walked over to his bowl and lapped some water before going back to lie down on the dining room rug…conveniently positioned so he could watch my every movement, and, I guessed, know exactly when I put somemachacain his bowl.
Trying not to smile, I went ahead and got out the tortillas and cheese and one of the packets of enchilada sauce I kept in the freezer. It was easier for me to make a big batch of sauce every few months rather than concoct the whole thing from scratch every time I wanted to make enchiladas, and so I gently nuked the sauce in the microwave for a minute to soften it up before dumping it in a pan to defrost the rest of the way.
While that was going, I assembled the enchiladas and got some black beans going in my Instant Pot. I’d resisted buying the device for quite a while, but once I had it in my hot little hands, I realized it was definitely the best thing in my kitchen arsenal when it came to making beans. In fact, I rarely used it for anything else.
More delicious smells filled the air, and by the time seven o’clock rolled around, everything was ready, the table set, and a Pandora station I’d concocted of Latin guitar music played in the background. I’d even had enough time to brush my hair and freshen my makeup a bit.
The doorbell rang, and Archie promptly bolted for the living room window, which I’d left slightly ajar so he could escape the moment Calvin arrived. Since I was used to this behavior by now, I didn’t comment, only headed over to open the door.
Calvin stood there, a bouquet of cheerful marigolds in one hand.
“I got you these,” he said. “I’d heard they’re the traditional flower for the Day of the Dead.”
They were, and I was a bit surprised he knew that little tidbit. Had he done some research prior to coming over?
“They’re gorgeous,” I said. “Come on in — I need to put these in some water.” He came inside, and I shut the door behind him before heading into the living room so I could retrieve my favorite vase from where it had a place of honor on the mantel. As I made my way back to the kitchen, I added, “You can go ahead and open the wine. It’s sitting on the table.”
“Sure.”
Calvin went and retrieved the bottle of tempranillo I’d set out, while I took the vase and flowers to the kitchen sink so I could get them properly situated in some water. After that, I needed just a moment to put the vase back on the mantel before I returned once more to the kitchen.
“Everything smells amazing,” he said as he pulled the cork from the bottle, then set about filling up the two wine glasses that waited on the table.
“Thanks,” I replied. “I didn’t do anything too fancy.”
“It smells fancy.”
I just smiled and shook my head. You’d have thought by this point, Calvin would have been a little more used to how I loved to feed him. Then again, I knew I probably shouldn’t complain. It was nice to have an appreciative audience for my cooking.
Since I’d already transferred the beans to their big ceramic glazed pot and put it on the table, I didn’t have to do too much else beyond retrieve the casserole pan of enchiladas from the oven and bring it over to the dining room, where it occupied a place of honor on a couple of pot holders I’d set out earlier.
“I think we’re ready,” I said.
Calvin nodded, and we both took our seats. He lifted his glass of wine. “What should we toast to?”
I thought of Danny Ortega, possibly now haunting the house where he’d once lived, of the other people I’d known who’d lost their lives so recently here in this little town.
“To those who are gone,” I said softly, and Calvin clinked his glass against mine.
“A proper Day of the Dead toast,” he replied. “Anything more on the Danny Ortega front?”
Should I tell him that Danny had dropped in for a midnight visit the evening before?
I had a feeling Calvin wouldn’t be too thrilled with that particular development.
“Not a lot,” I replied. I didn’t like to hide things from him, but on the other hand, what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.
Sort of like the whole Archie situation.
“Everything seems to be a dead end,” I went on before Calvin could reply. “I guess Henry’s making inquiries, but it doesn’t seem as though he’s gotten very far, either.”
“Does he know you’re playing Nancy Drew on this one, too?”
Since Calvin had used the “Nancy Drew” line on me more than once before, I wouldn’t allow myself to be too offended. “I don’t think so,” I said honestly. “I mean, if he did, I have a feeling he would have been over here already to read me the riot act.”
