LITMIR.BIZ

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      “My mother and father worked hard for everything they had. There were three children, me, and my brother and sister, Mark and Rachel. We had everything we needed, but if we wanted something our parents saw as a luxury, we never got it. Lunch boxes were a luxury.”

      He was telling the story without a trace of self-pity. She realized she was smiling.

      He went on. “One day, when we were all grown up, Mark, Rachel and I were sitting in a restaurant trying to top each other with terrible stories of our childhood.” He went to the sink to fill the pot with water. “There were no terrible stories, but there were two empty bottles of good Merlot on the table, which made the exercise worthy. I told them my worst memory was the year I had to take my lunch to school wrapped in newspaper, because Mom decided newspaper was cheaper than buying lunch bags.”

      “And this reminded you to go out and buy a hundred lunch boxes?”

      “No, but for Christmas Mark and Rachel each bought me one. In one fell swoop I got Pac-Man and The Empire Strikes Back.” He glanced at her and smiled a little. “You have no idea how badly I wanted Pac-Man when I was in first grade.”

      He poured the water into the coffeemaker and replaced the pot before he turned it on. “The joke spread. Pretty soon everybody was giving me lunch boxes. I still get them. I’d be buried in them, except that I use them as prizes in Sunday school.”

      She was entranced. “Prizes?”

      “Every year we have a lunch contest on the last Sunday in June. All the children bring the strangest lunch they can think of. But it has to be something they’ll eat. Six winners get their choice of lunch boxes, at least the ones I have on display. Pac-Man’s off limits.”

      Elisa laughed. “This is a church school?”

      He lounged against the counter as the coffee began to brew. “Actually, I tell them the lunch box story, pretty much the way I told it to you. Then I tell them how much sweeter it is for me to have these lunch boxes now, that waiting for them made them that much more special. The kids get the message. Sometimes you can’t have everything you want the minute you want it, so you have to wait. And when you do?” He shrugged. “It means more.”

      She wondered if, when the kids became teenagers, Sam’s story made them pause in the race to explore their sexuality. If so, it was certainly a novel approach to sex education.

      “I use a different box every day,” he finished. “In case one of the kids happens to be around.” He allowed himself a grin. “Actually, I’m lying. I use them because they’re fun. And Mom would not approve of me having anything I don’t use.”

      She liked his memories. She liked his parents and his sister and brother. She was increasingly sure she liked Sam. She was just as sure that she needed to keep her distance. He would be an easy man to confide in.

      “Cream? Sugar?” he asked.

      “Nothing. The darker the better.”

      “I’ve never quite acquired the taste.”

      “That’s probably because what passes for coffee in this country is the cheapest beans badly roasted and stored too long.”

      “You’re lucky. I thought about serving you instant.”

      She watched as he reached for mugs and poured milk from the refrigerator in his. Then he added coffee and took the mugs into the family room.

      The walls here, as in the other rooms, were covered. But here the artwork was clearly that of children, fastened on the walls with plastic pushpins. She suspected the Sunday school children again, or perhaps nieces and nephews. This was a man, like Diego, who loved kids.

      Sam set the coffee on the low table in front of a comfortable-looking ultrasuede sofa. “I’ve told you about me. Why don’t you tell me a little about you?”

      She joined him and lifted her mug for a sip while she settled on a story. “My father was a teacher. In fact, he taught English, but there was illness and bad luck.” She shrugged. “I set off to find my own way in the world to relieve my parents of their burdens.”

      “Wednesday night you mentioned El Paso?”

      She was surprised that with everything else that had been going on, Sam had caught, much less remembered, that. She had nearly forgotten it herself. She would need to be careful. “I have covered a lot of ground.”

      “I gather you’re not married?”

      She paused to consider what else to say. She decided not to elaborate. “No.”

      He went on. “We give two weeks paid vacation, hopefully to be taken when the schedule’s not too busy. You would have enough time to fly home and be with your family.”

      She sipped her coffee and nodded.

      “I’m offering you the job,” he said.

      She set her mug on the table, relieved. “Thank you.” She started to say he wouldn’t be sorry, but she knew that might well be a lie. When she left without a word, he would feel betrayed.

      “There’s one condition,” he said.

      When a woman was poor and clearly in need of a job, there usually was. At least this time she doubted she would be asked to sleep with her boss. “If I can meet your condition,” she said carefully, “I will.”

      “Good. Because I want to throw a car into the bargain.”

      This was so different from anything she’d expected that she didn’t know what to say.

      He filled the silence. “I have two cars. The SUV I drove this morning, and a Honda Civic with about 80,000 miles. I didn’t want to buy the SUV, but the roads around here can be pretty grim. Last winter I got stuck twice trying to visit shut-ins. And one Sunday I had to walk to church for services because the snow was so deep. I don’t need two cars, but I’m sentimentally attached to the Honda, and I couldn’t make myself get rid of it. So I want you to use it while you’re working at Community Church. Consider it a bonus, because we’re not paying as much as we should.”

      “I don’t see how I can accept that. It’s too generous.”

      “Elisa, you can’t do the sexton’s job without a car, even if you make a superhuman effort. This makes it feasible, and it also relieves me of the guilt of owning two vehicles.”

      When he needed it, he had the most disarming grin. Judging by the warmth and goodwill in his eyes, she could almost believe she would be doing him a favor. She considered a moment, but the possibilities were too tempting. This was a huge gift, much more than he could possibly know.

      “Yes, all right,” she said at last. “But I have a condition, too. I’ll clean La Casa thoroughly for you each week. That will be my job, not yours. The car will be payment.”

      “You’ll have time?”

      “In the time it would take me to walk back and forth to the church, I could clean it from roof to cellar.”

      “Excellent.” He picked up his mug and swung it in toast. “Then it’s all set.”

      Elisa clanked mugs, then peeked at her watch. “I’m sure you’re tired. If you’re going to drive me back—”

      “Don’t worry about that. I’ll give you the keys to the Civic now, and you can take possession. It’s nothing fancy, but it will get you anywhere you need to go.”

      She needed to go many places. She was thrilled.

      She got to her feet, and he followed. The dogs, who were now taking up most of the floor between the family room and kitchen, wagged their tails but didn’t rise. She stepped carefully around them and followed Sam—who had taken a better route—to the door, dropping off her mug in the kitchen first.

      The car was parked at the side of the house. It was a white hatchback, and it looked to be in

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