The Baker's Daughter

Chapter Thirty-seven

EL PASO BORDER PATROL STATION

8935 MONTANA AVENUE

EL PASO, TEXAS

—–Original Message—–

From: reba.adams@hotmail.com

Sent: February 14, 2008 6:52 P.M.

To: ricardo.m.chavez@cbp.dhs.gov

Subject: Thinking of you

February 14, 2008

Happy Valentine’s Day, Riki!

I tried your cell but you must be finishing up at the station. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to watch the sun turn the sky all our favorite sherbet flavors. How many did we count that one time—thirty-three different sky scoops? That’s two more than Baskin-Robbins. My favorite will always be passion fruit pineapple marshmallow cream. That scoop right above Sunland Park, New Mexico. So if you see it tonight, give it a little taste for me.

It’s a different kind of sunset here on the bay. A little watered down in my opinion. But the apartment is beautiful. My editor, Leigh, helped me get the place—fully furnished, too. There was a long waiting list at this apartment complex, but one word from her and they bumped me to the top. You’d like it. You can see the water from my balcony. Leigh’s a real ballbuster in the office. Kind of reminds me of Elsie with an organic, Napa wine, locavore twist. Hoping this is just hell week and things ease up after I’ve been initiated.

My first story assignment is on the new trend in nightclub-restaurant hybrids. Interesting. Leigh says she wants me to get my feet wet in the city scene, but the majority of my work will be in the editing room, not the beat. I’m wondering what exactly that means.

San Fran is a lot bigger than El Paso, that’s for sure. A lot bigger than Richmond, too. I went walking downtown yesterday. I thought I’d see a couple city staples—the Fisherman’s Wharf, the Ghirardelli Chocolate Factory, the Boudin Bakery. I bought a bread roll in the shape of a turtle. Seriously, it was the spitting image, and it tasted about the same. Bland as pond water. You’ll have to tell Elsie that nothing compares to her brötchen—not even the famous big-city bakeries.

Have you been by the bakery lately? I’ve called a few times, but (no surprise) got the answering machine. Elsie should really open an e-mail account. The spam filter siphons out all the porn and Viagra ads. You tell her that.

Miss you.

Love, Reba