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I laughed. “That was a long time ago, Donna.”
Mary popped her head into the room. “Donna, someone needs you out here.”
She sighed and stood as Mary disappeared. “Don’t even try to deny that if that woman gave you five seconds of her time, you wouldn’t be in heaven.”
“Whatever, Donna, go help your customer.”
“I want to know what her letter says.” She pointed to it and gave me a very intent look before she walked out.
I slipped Luke’s letter back into his envelope and stared at hers. What was she going to ask for? Reconciliation with her husband? Her son to behave better? A new car?
I tore the envelope open and pulled out the note. Faith’s flourishing cursive was only a single line.
Dear Santa, I want my life back. Faith
I frowned. That comment said so much—yet, it didn’t tell me a damn thing. Was she sick? Did she want her marriage fixed? Was there something else going on?
I folded the paper and put it back in the envelope, then collected both of the letters, grabbed my jacket, and headed toward the door. The address that Luke had put in his letter was Faith’s childhood home, and I had every intention of driving past the house.
Not that I was going to knock on the door, but because I just wanted to see if she was there. Maybe I would send Jeremy an email tonight and see how he was. Perhaps I could tell him I saw Faith and wondered where he was. Perhaps he would fill me in on what was going on without me asking.
I drove down Elm Street and found my palms a bit damp. I didn’t know why I was nervous; I didn’t intend to stop—at least not tonight. I slowed to a stop one door down from her mother’s house. It was dark now, and I couldn’t see much of the outside, but the lights were on inside the house, and the curtains were still open in the living room. I cut the lights on my vehicle and watched her and Luke through the window.
He was in pajamas and standing next to her chair. She was smiling at him, and the minute he turned to walk away, the smile disappeared, and she leaned forward and put her hands over her face, rubbing them up and down for a moment before she followed Luke from the room.
A light in the back corner of the house turned on, and a few minutes later, it went off. That room had been the guest room; her bedroom was beside that. Quite a few times, Jeremy and I had visited in the middle of the night and whispered to her through the guest room window. It was further from her parents' room and wouldn’t be as easy to hear us talking. We had even convinced her to sneak out a few times by climbing out the window.
The memory of one of those times hit me hard. Jeremy was holding the screen up, and Faith lost her balance as she came over the windowsill. She fell forward, and I caught her. The two of us went to the ground. Her face and mine were only an inch away, and we stared at one another for a few seconds before Jeremy grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up. I could have sworn there had been something in her gaze, and for the rest of the night, we avoided each other.
Faith appeared in the living room again, a wine glass in her hand as she curled herself into the chair and put her head back, closing her eyes. I started my car and pulled away. I didn’t want to be creepy; I knew she wouldn’t appreciate that.
When I got home, I went right to my computer and woke it up, bringing my email up immediately. I started a new one and typed in Jeremy’s name to populate the address field. In the subject field, I putChecking In.
Then I typed a quick message about seeing Luke and Faith and wondering how he was. It was short and didn’t mention anything about the Santa letters. I hit send, and then got up and was about to head to the bathroom when my email pinged a moment later. I turned back and saw a notification that the email was invalid.
I frowned as I sat down. “What do you mean it’s not valid? That’s the one I always use.” I checked the email to make sure it was right and tried it one more time. It bounced back again. “What the hell, Jeremy?”
Well, I guess the only way to find out what was going on was to see her tomorrow morning in person. With that decided, I turned off my computer and went to shower as memories of Faith slipped through my mind.
Chapter Three
Faith
Iwas cleaning up the breakfast dishes when there was a knock at the front door. Luke took off for the entryway. “Don’t you open that door!” I shouted but knew he would ignore it. He was notorious for opening the door to strangers. It was something I had gotten on him about over and over again in New York.
I was wiping my hands on a towel as I came around the corner and heard the door open. A man stood on the opposite side, and my feet practically glued themselves to the floor as I stared at the man’s face. Peter Sterling, holy smokes!
“Hey, buddy. Is your mom here?” Peter was looking down at Luke through the storm door.
“Mom!” Peter shouted and then opened the storm door for him. “She’s washing dishes.”
Peter took hold of the door and paused, glancing up and finding me rooted to my spot. A handsome smile filled his face. “Hi, Faith.”
“Peter, what a surprise,” I said as I finally managed to move forward again. “Come in.” I glanced at Luke. “I told you not to open the door, Luke.”
“Come on, Mom.” He rolled his eyes. “We aren’t in New York City anymore; no one is going to kidnap me here.”
“Kidnappings happen everywhere, Luke, not just in cities.” I smiled at Peter, shocked to see him, but happily so. “What are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?”
