Curiosity won out. I tore open the blue envelope and pulled out a handwritten letter.
I could almost hear Daddy’s voice as I read.
Dear Holly,
Perhaps you don’t remember me very well. You must be quite a young lady by now. I would like to get to know you and your sister again. How do you feel about that?
I realize it’s been a very long time since you’ve heard from me. If you find that you are interested in getting better acquainted, perhaps you could come visit me during your spring break. I have remarried, and my wife’s name is Saundra, and she has a son named Tyler. They would also love to meet you. Take your time in deciding this. My address is on the front of the envelope if you want to write.
I am sorry to tell you some sad news about your aunt Marla. She is very sick with cancer. I know she is one of your favorite aunts, and since she is my only sister, I wanted you to hear about this from me.
I love both my girls. That may be hard for you to believe, but it is true. I would enjoy hearing from you.
Love,
Daddy
I stared at the letter. It seemed like forever since we’d sat on the porch swing, singing into the night. And the books. He’d read tons of them out loud to Carrie and me. At bedtime, after supper, on Sunday afternoons. Tears stung my eyes as I stuffed the letter, blue envelope and all, back into my pocket.
I tiptoed to Mom’s bedroom, gently touching the door. Silently it glided open. I peeked in and saw Mom sprawled out on the bed. I crept inside and pulled the comforter over her.
She’ll be asleep for a while,
I thought as I wandered downstairs.
Carrie was relaxing on the floor in the family room, drawing. She was surrounded by colored pencils, markers, and several coloring books.
“Carrie, this place is a disaster.” I grabbed a handful of markers. “Can’t you keep these in the box?”
She ignored me. “Is Mommy asleep?” she asked, playing with the red clip on top of her head. Her blond hair gleamed in the lamplight.
“Mom’s napping.” I picked up a coloring book and started flipping through it.
“She’s tired a lot.”
“That’s because she works with stressed-out lawyers all day.”
“But why is she so sad?” Carrie looked up at me.
“I don’t know.” I wondered if Mom had heard about Aunt Marla. Maybe Grandma Meredith had called her. We were still close to Daddy’s parents in spite of the divorce. Grandma and Grandpa had never really gotten over it. I remembered hearing Grandpa say, “Why is our son leaving his perfectly wonderful family?”
Guess we weren’t that wonderful,
I thought. Anyway, they still thought of Mom as their daughter. And Carrie and I would always be their granddaughters, no matter what.
The phone rang, and I ran upstairs to the kitchen to answer it.
“Hey, Heartless,” Andie said. “How come you didn’t call back?”
“Guess I just forgot.” I kept my voice low. “Something really major just happened.”
“What?”
“It’s my dad. I got a letter from him.”
“Really? Wow! What did he say?”
I told her all about the letter, how Mom and Carrie didn’t know about it yet, and how he wanted to see me again. I even told her about Aunt Marla’s cancer.
“That’s really sad.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Yeah, I know.”
There was a short silence. Then I changed the subject. “Did you hear why those guys got called out of class today?” I asked. “Tom says he caught them smoking behind the gym during lunch.” I felt strange spreading this kind of news around, but I wanted to see if Andie would defend Jared the way I had.
“That’s hard to believe,” she said.
“You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think it’s one major mistake…or else someone’s lying.”
“There’s one way to track it down.” She sounded like a super sleuth. “Let’s corner Tom at his locker tomorrow first thing, since he seems to know so much about it.”
“Okay,” I agreed. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to talk to Tom Sly again, but with Andie around he’d never dare call me insulting names.
After I hung up, I pulled the letter from Daddy out of my pocket and folded it neatly. I went back down to the family room and curled up on my favorite spot on the sofa.
“Anything good on TV?” I asked Carrie.
Her eyes were glazed over. There was a Dairy Queen commercial on.
“Huh?” she whispered. I could see that the jazzy advertisement had won out over her drawing.
“Never mind,” I murmured, reaching for my red binder containing every possible question on tomorrow’s grammar test.
But I couldn’t study. Instead, I daydreamed about the contents of Daddy’s letter. I held the letter in my hand. It was strange reading his words, seeing his handwriting.
“What’s that?” Carrie asked.
“Oh, this?” I smoothed the wrinkles out of the California letter.
“It’s a letter from…”
Fast thinking required.
“Who?”
“From someone you really don’t know.” It was the truth. “I have to study now,” I said, tucking the letter into my notebook.
“Hi again,” Mom announced, breezing into the room. She was dressed in her coziest pink robe, still wearing her funky elephant slippers. “Let’s talk, honeys,” she said, fluffing the couch pillows.
“Turn off the TV,” I told Carrie.
“Come sit on my lap,” Mom said to her. Goofey jumped on her lap, too. Mom leaned over and gave me a hug. “I’ve been thinking about someone very special lately,” she began. “Do you remember Aunt Marla and Uncle Jack? And your stair-step cousins?”
I nodded. How could we forget the Christmas we spent in Pennsylvania two years ago? We’d chopped down a nine-foot giant of a tree. The tip of it bent under the lofty farmhouse ceiling. Our stair-step cousins—we called them that because each kid was a little older than the next—Carrie, Mom, and I took half the day to decorate the monstrous tree. It was great fun for all of us, except Daddy wasn’t there.
“Your aunt Marla is very ill,” Mom said softly.
“What’s wrong with her?” Carrie asked.
“She hasn’t been well for several months,” Mom said, moving Carrie to the other side of her lap. “She has cancer. I’ve just heard from Grandma that some tests show Aunt Marla might not have long to live.”
“I know about this,” I whispered.
Mom peered at me curiously.
“Would you be surprised if I told you Daddy wrote to tell me about her?” I stared down at my hands, then up at her.
“Not too surprised,” she responded. But her eyes said differently. “Grandma told me this news has changed your father.”
I watched her face. “What do you mean?”
“Sometimes, when people learn that someone close to them is dying, it alters the way they view life.”
“How?” Carrie asked.
“It makes them think more about how
they
want to live.”
“I feel sorry for Uncle Jack and my cousins,” I said.
“Let’s pray that the Lord will give them extra strength during this painful time,” Mom said.
We joined hands in prayer for Aunt Marla, Uncle Jack, and my cousins—Stan, Phil, Mark, and Stephanie. I prayed, too, that God would touch Aunt Marla and make her well again. Slowly, tears trickled down my face. The news about Daddy’s letter and dear Aunt Marla all in the same day had caught up with me.
Mom wiped away my tears and looked into my eyes. “Do you want to talk?”
“I feel sorry for Aunt Marla. Very sad. And…” I drew in a deep breath. “Do you think I’ll ever be able to forgive Daddy for leaving?”
“That troubles you, doesn’t it, honey?”
I nodded.
“It takes a simple, honest prayer of forgiveness, and remembering each day that Jesus does the same for us when we hurt Him,” she said, taking my hand in hers and squeezing it gently.
“I used to miss Dad a lot.” I looked away. “Then, when we didn’t hear from him anymore, I figured he was gone forever. And now…”
“I know, honey.” She leaned her head against me. “I know.”
“You can read the letter,” I offered hesitantly. It seemed like the right thing, letting her see it.
“Maybe another time,” she said, her voice sounding stronger.
“Is it okay with you if I write back?”
“Of course. He’s your father, Holly—that won’t change. If you have a relationship with him, it’s because you both want it.”
Carrie had been listening to us silently, her eyes wide. “So
that’s
what you were hiding before.”
Mom intervened. “Maybe Holly will share it with you some other time.”
“Did I get a letter, too?” Carrie sounded hurt.
“No,” I said. “But Daddy says he wants to get to know you, too. I bet if you write him, he’ll write back.”
“Will Daddy start writing letters to Mommy?” she asked.
Mom said something that was probably pretty tough to say. “Carrie, love, your daddy is married to another woman now. He has a new family.”
Carrie never understood all this divorce stuff.
Who does?
I thought sadly.
“Does he have some new kids?” she asked.
“He has a stepson.”
“Will Daddy ever come visit us?” Carrie asked.
“If you see him, most likely it will be at his house,” Mom said.
I couldn’t believe she offered that. So I sucked in some air and dropped an enormous idea on her. “Dad says he hopes you’ll let me fly out to visit him during spring vacation.”
Mom sat motionless. “I’ll have to think about
that.
” She pulled us against her. “Now, don’t we have homework tonight?”
While Mom coached Carrie with math flash cards, I tried to study for tomorrow’s test. But all I could think about was Daddy. Did I really want to see him again?
My notes on adverbs blurred, so I set aside my English notebook. Other things seemed more important than maintaining my B+ average. Right now, anyway.
A few hours later I was propped up in bed, reading my devotional book without the usual suggestion from Mom. Bearie-O stared straight ahead as I tucked Daddy’s letter inside my Bible, marking the verse for the day. It was Psalm 46:1. “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” How did the writers of my devotional always seem to know the perfect verses to choose…for me? For today?
I slipped under my blanket and turned out the lamp beside my bed. Bearie-O fell forward, his face pressed against my lavender comforter. I leaned my elbow against his love-scarred head.
A timid breeze caressed the aspen trees outside my window. Through the window I could see the shadowy form of their bare branches. But try as I might, I couldn’t see Daddy’s face, his tall frame, or those gentle blue eyes in my imagination. Only the outdated picture on the nightstand came into view, faint in the twilight.
BEST FRIEND, WORST ENEMY
“Ready for action?” I asked Andie.
She nodded. We stood in the hallway before our first class, plotting our strategy. We had planned to corner Tom Sly and make him talk—whether he wanted to or not.
Andie grabbed my arm and we strutted down the school hallway, on our way to the stakeout.
“Super sleuths to the rescue!” I said.
We giggled.
“Got any spy glasses?” Andie said, peering around, her eyes squinting.
“Here.” I handed her an imaginary pair, and she put them on with a flourish.
“Shh, there he is.” Andie pointed at Tom, who had just finished unlocking his locker and was removing his jacket. “Remember,
I’ll
handle this.”
We strolled over and stood silently on either side of him. He slammed his locker shut and turned around. He looked surprised to see us, but he covered it quickly.
“Hello, beauties,” he said, eyeing both of us. “How may I assist you today?”
“There’s something we need to ask you,” Andie said. “We figured you’d be the one to ask, since you know everything about everyone around here.” She laid it on thick. Boys fell for her routine, and since it worked, she kept recycling her approach.
“Since you put it that way,” he said, “I’d be happy to fill you in.
Both
of you,” he said with a meaningful look at me.
He’d tripped over Andie’s ridiculous line!
“So,” she said, “what were you doing, spying on Jared?”
That’s it, Andie, shoot from the hip
, I thought
.
“Who wants to know?” he said, getting defensive.
“Let’s put it this way. It’s important,” Andie said.
“What do you care?” he asked.
Andie was smart enough not to tell him we hoped to clear his name.
“He attends our church, and we thought—”
“You thought he was a good church boy, right?” he jeered. “Well,
nobody’s
perfect.”
“Christian kids have a perfect example to follow,” I chimed in. “God’s Son.”
“Oh, really?” he mocked.
Andie pressed on. “I thought I saw you in the gym watching intramurals yesterday during lunch.”
“Well, you’re wrong.”
She turned to me. “Holly, you saw him there, right?”
Come to think of it, I had! He
had
been inside the gym the whole hour. I nodded.
“So maybe you didn’t see Jared and those guys smoking at all. Right?”