A Thousand Little Blessings by Claire Sanders

in.”
    “How much longer before he recovers his speech?”
    “Hard to say, Miss Davis. He’s regaining some of his muscle strength, and he can stand for about a minute, but relearning how to talk usually takes longer. But don’t you worry. Old Charlie’s on the job. Before you know it, your Papa will be reading the Sunday newspaper to you.”
    That will be a wonderful day. “And what about you, Mr. Simpson. Is there anything you need?”
    Charlie cut his gaze to Rosa. “Actually… there is something I was hoping for…”
    “I know what you want,” Rosa said. She stood and removed a pan of bread pudding from the warming box atop the stove. “How do you stay so skinny with all the food you eat?”
    “Just lucky, I guess,” Charlie answered with an impish grin. “I knew living and working here was the answer to my prayers, but I didn’t know the Lord had a bonus in store. Rosa is a great cook.”
    “Such a smooth talker,” Rosa said as she spooned bread pudding into a bowl. “You want some, mija?”
    Etta shook her head.
    Charlie tasted the dessert and waggled his eyebrows. “Mmm…best cook in Texas, that’s what I say. If you don’t watch out, Miss Davis, somebody might steal Rosa.”
    Rosa clucked her tongue as she placed a glass of milk in front of Charlie. “I’m not going nowhere. I got my own room, my own kitchen, and my family only a few miles away. Voy a quedarme aquí hasta que voy a la gloria. ”
    “Ah, Rosa, come on,” Charlie protested. “You know I don’t speak Spanish.”
    “She said she’s going to stay here until she goes to Glory,” Etta translated.
    “Is that right?” Charlie asked. “Well, that suits me. I don’t have no other plans.”
    Etta looked at Rosa, but the older woman quickly looked away.
    Charlie couldn’t have been much clearer about his intentions.
    Rosa muttered something in Spanish as she cleared the table and returned the bread pudding to the stove. “You two can stay up all night, but I’m going to bed.” She patted Etta’s shoulder. “Goodnight, mija.”
    Etta covered Rosa’s hand with hers. “Goodnight.”
    Rosa walked up the back stairs.
    Etta returned her attention to the account books while Charlie ate in silence. But being quiet was not in Charlie’s nature, and after a few minutes, he interrupted Etta’s concentration.
    “How long has Rosa been living here?”
    “About fifteen years. Why do you ask?”
    “Has she ever been married?”
    “She’s a widow, and I’m not volunteering any more information, Mr. Simpson. You should be asking Rosa these questions instead of me.”
    Charlie grinned again. “I’ve been to mass with her family several times, and they seem like a nice bunch of folks, but they won’t tell me a thing. Their mouths are closed tighter than a jelly jar.”
    “Maybe they’re protecting Rosa.”
    “I understand that. Really, I do. But how’s a man supposed to court a woman when nobody’ll lend a helping hand?”
    Etta narrowed her eyes. Rosa was much more than a housekeeper, and Etta wasn’t about to let Charlie Simpson hurt someone as dear as Rosa. “Does Rosa know your intentions?”
    “I imagine she’s got the idea by now,” Charlie replied. “I haven’t been exactly secretive about my interest in her. I’m going to talk to her older brother next Sunday after mass. That’d be the right thing to do, don’t you think?”
    Etta held up her palm as if to ward off the question. “Don’t ask me, Mr. Simpson. What I know about courtship and marriage could fit inside the eye of a needle.”
    “That’s because you’re still young, Miss Davis. Your turn’ll come. You’ll see.”
    Etta didn’t respond. What could she, a twenty-five-year-old woman who’d never had a serious beau, possibly say in reply?
    Charlie carried his dishes to the sink. “Well, that does it for me. I’ll take one last look at your papa before I turn in, and then I’m off to dreamland. Goodnight, Miss Davis.”
    “Goodnight.”