The Letter - Chapter 4

I unlocked the front door and hurried into the house, stomping my feet.  God, it’s cold out there today!

“Da-ad!  I’m home!  Hello-oh!  Anybody home?”  No answer.  He must have stepped out.  I dropped my backpack, stuffed my hat and gloves in my coat pockets and hung up my coat in the hall closet.  I walked into the kitchen to see if my dad had left a note.  He hadn’t.  No note, no text, no phone call.  I’ll give the old man some flak about that.  He’s always telling me, “I just want to know you’re safe.  It’s courtesy, not control that I ask you to let me know where you are.”

Well, he’s going to hear something from me about courtesy though I have to admit he’s pretty good about letting me know when he’s going to be out.  He must have left in a hurry.

“What’s this?” I said to the empty house.  There was a lavender envelope on top of the stack of mail on the table.  I picked it up.  It was addressed to Dad.  Hmm.  Looks like a woman’s handwriting.  There were folded sheets of lavender stationery under the envelope.  I picked up the stationery and unfolded it.

Dear George,

You may be surprised to be hearing from me after all these years. 

Ooh, this could be juicy.  I slid the letter and envelope into my math book, grabbed a diet cola from the refrigerator and walked upstairs to my bedroom.  I sat down on my bed and pulled out the letter to see who was writing love letters to my father.  I quickly flipped to the last page.

“Fondly,” and no signature.  That really stinks.  Who would write a letter on lavender stationery, in

red ink no less, and then choose not to sign it.  It was definitely a woman.  Lavender stationery, “fondly.”  Yes, definitely a woman.  I sniffed the paper.  A hint of something.  I know that scent, what is it?  God, that’s Wind Song!  That’s what Mom used to wear when I was little.  Sometimes she’d dab a little behind my ears.

For a split second, I thought this might be from Mom.  Maybe she regretted running off with that jerk.  No, it wasn’t her handwriting.

 

“Jennifer!  I’m home.  Where are you?”  My dad had come in the front door.

“In my room, Dad!  Be right down!”

Oh my God, the letter.  What the heck should I do with it?  Dad will have a fit if he finds out I’ve been reading his personal mail.  I panicked and slipped it under the mattress on my bed.  I bounded down the stairs and gave my dad a big hug.  

“Where were you?”

“Your Uncle Bob had a car problem, and called to ask me to help him out.  Sorry not to leave a note, but I left in a hurry because he sounded so desperate.”

“You have a cell phone, Dad.  You should have texted me.”

“Yeah, sorry.  I actually thought about texting you, but I was driving at the time.  Then, when I caught up with Bob, I guess it just slipped my mind.  You know I’m a Luddite when it comes to cell phones.”

“You are.  You refuse to get a smart phone.  I’m surprised that your old flip phone still works.”

“Hey, I use it the way a phone is supposed to be used.  It works fine to talk to people.  Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t let you know where I was.”

“Is everything O.K. with Uncle Bob?” I asked as I followed my dad into the kitchen.

“It will be.  We hoped it was just a dead battery, but the guy from Triple A tried jumping it and couldn’t get it started.  So they towed it to a garage where we proceeded to sit for a couple hours only to be told they needed a part.  He won’t find out until tomorrow how long it will be until it’s repaired.”

My dad glanced at the pile of mail on the table, but didn’t say anything about the missing letter.

“So what’s for dinner?” I asked.

“I didn’t have time to pull anything out of the freezer.  How about I boil some pasta and open up a jar of sauce?”

“Sure, I’ll make a salad.”

“No, you go up and do your homework.  I’ve got dinner under control.  Everything will be ready in half an hour.”

He picked up the pile of mail and riffled through it before laying it back on the table.

“Now, scoot!  I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”  He started filling a pot with water.