to the hacienda and make a few calls. The phone down here has been turned off. I’ll call tomorrow for a reconnect.”
“Good,” she said, and strode along beside him. “In the meantime I have my cell phone. I forgot my charger, but it should last a day or two.”
“Then it’s a done deal.” Zeke grinned.
“I’ll clean the place today, and tomorrow we’ll start work. Do you have Manny’s phone number?”
“What do you need him for?”
Dena smiled. “I want to tell him he’s hired.”
Chapter Ten
Dena rubbed at her lower back and straightened. She’d been leaning in to clean the countertop microwave, and her muscles were starting to complain. She pushed the hair out of her eyes with one dirty yellow-gloved finger. Sweat ran down her face and she doubted she’d ever done this much housework in her life. It seemed everything was coated in dust.
In the background, the radio blared easy listening tunes and she hummed along. A shadow fell across the open doorway, and she looked up in surprise.
“Hello, Irma, what are you doing here?” she asked. “It’s Sunday.”
“Zeke tell me what you do. I come to help.” Irma smiled, unrolled an apron and slipped it around her waist.
“No. Really, it’s fine. You’re in your Sunday clothes. I’m happy to do this—”
“No.” Irma took the sponge from her hand.
Dena laughed. “Seriously, I can do this.”
“You lady, you go sit. I clean.”
Dean gave a shake of her head. “It’s your one day off—”
Irma walked across the room and began scrubbing the countertop. “Bueno, mucho bueno,” she said, and clasped her hands and the wet sponge in front of her chest. “I ask many times, let me do, he say no. He say close it up, leave alone.”
Dena peeled off the sweaty gloves, wiped her hands on the seat of her shorts, happy that she’d pleased Irma and aware it was no use fighting. “I notice there are none of Isabella’s personal effects in the bedroom.”
Irma frowned.
“No clothes,” Dena said, and pulled at her shirt.
“Zeke tell me to give away, but not the paintings.”
“Well, that’s a good thing.” Dena picked up a cloth and a can of furniture polish and moved to the living area. She started on the end tables. “I’ve already done the bedroom.”
“Zeke, he likes you. He listens.”
Dena looked up from her dusting. “I hope I can help him in the community. We’ll work on his public image first—”
“Loco,” Irma said. “Crazy people.” Then with a grim set to her mouth she went back to scrubbing and muttering in Spanish.
Dena smiled. She wasn’t sure how much English Irma knew or understood, so it didn’t seem necessary to explain what she would be doing to help Zeke. He would tell her.
“I’m going up to the house to check on the laundry,” Dena said. She’d taken the linens and the duvet to the laundry room, even though she figured they’d been cleaned after Isabella had died.
“You clean bathroom?” Irma asked.
“Yes. It’s just the kitchen, and then the tile floors and the vacuuming.”
Irma’s bronzed face creased into pleasant wrinkles. “You sit, is easy for me. You eat lunch?”
“Yes.” She hadn’t but wasn’t about to admit that. Besides, she’d pigged out at breakfast. She could definitely forgo the calories. “Where is Zeke?”
“With Manny, they bring the tables.”
Oh, so maybe she did need to explain some things. “Did he tell you what we’re doing? I’m sorry, my Spanish is not so good.”
“Is okay, my English—” Irma said, and tapped twice over her heart, “—is no good for speaking, but I understand.”
“Fabulous.” Dena brought Irma up to date on the plans for the art fair. Irma’s smile got wider and wider. Together they took the cushions off the armchairs, and Irma got the vacuum cleaner.
“Wait. There’s something stuck in the crease of the chair,” Dena said, and pulled up a string with several beads and a piece of turquoise threaded onto it.
Irma reached for it. “Mrs. Isabella, she make the necklaces.” She held the string of beads up to the light, examined it lovingly.
Dena couldn’t speak. She put out her hand and waited for Irma to give back the half-made necklace. The beads were the same as those in a necklace Carli had sent her last Christmas, and she’d said she had one the same. Had she known Isabella? Had Carli been here to this casita? Her heartbeat raced and her hands trembled. She sank into one of the armchairs and held the beads in a death grip.