Moved (Part I) ...
As she heard the footsteps she quickly put the picture in
the box. “Hey I think I better go across and pick up something to munch. You
think you can hang in here by yourself for a while?” he asked. She nodded
secretly happy that she’d get some time to sneak in and take a look at the
other contents of the box.
So as soon as she heard the ignition of his car she scrammed
upstairs. She carefully put the box down on the rug on the floor and started
going through it. She carefully placed the pictures aside and then found his
college sweat shirt, a couple of medals and a few yearbooks. As she picked a
yearbook to place it next to the rest of the stuff, an envelope slipped out and
fell on the floor with a little clunk.
She was surprised to see her name on the envelope with her
present address on it. She opened it and found a hand written letter dated back
to about a month after she had left his town and come to live here. She started to read:
Dear Allie,
I don’t know why I am writing
to you, when I can just pick up the phone and call you. I guess it’s easier to
be written than to actually speak to you. No fumbles, no dialing your number,
no hanging up when I get the machine instead of you.
I don’t know where to begin
and what to say. Well, it’s been a very short time since you’ve gone away but
this town has missed you, it’s just not the same anymore… I’m not the same
anymore.
Why couldn’t I ever talk to
you about it? You were always there, right next door, even if just for a short
while. Why did I not know how I felt when we spent many evenings sitting on
steps of my porch with a couple of beers sharing our lives? Why did I not know,
when I called you the night I was down with the flu and you took care of me all
night and didn’t leave until I nearly drove you out the next day. Why didn’t I
know when I readily drove across town when you were you needed someone to
rescue you from a bad date and a flat tire.
What I remember the most is
our trip to the vineyard that you took me to, that lazy Sunday morning. We
spend all day there. I remember how the ladylike dame I’d seen always was
gleaming like a child with her feet in a tub full of grapes crushing it,
slipping at times and then the giggle that would turn to laughter. If only
you’d see the look in my eyes that day would you know how I’d felt.
Then again how could I ask you
to read the signs, when I wasn’t able to decode it myself? That evening as we
sat across the table, I wanted to gift you this locket I’d seen you admire at
the store a few months ago, and tell you how I felt. But as we sipped the wine
you told me you were moving out … the art studio that you were wanting to
buyout was finally up for sale and you were going after it with every dime you
owned.
You couldn’t let it go and I couldn’t hold you back.
And here I am today. I thought
I was just crumbling to all the pressures of my mundane job, little did I know
that I was homesick. You’d wonder how I could be homesick when I was still
living in town. I realized that home is truly where the heart is and invariably
I had sent it miles away, with you. Yes… it took a fool like me forever to
realize that you were my home.
What belongs to you should be
yours… so I’m sending you the gift I wanted to give you that night. Happy
Birthday, my dear. I will always miss you…
Yours forever.
Jake.
She held the letter close to her heart as she wiped the
tears. She then opened the envelope again to find a silver chain with an antic
white rose for a locket. She recalled seeing it at the jewelers back then and
yearning to own it, but not buying it because she wished to save every penny.
She took the letter and the chain and carefully put it in
her bag knowing he would be back soon…
To be continued …
