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Of course, the USPS probably wouldn’t just accept that nutshell explanation, but if they dug even a little, they’d learn that Waylon had loathed Christmas. That loathing went all the way back to childhood when Waylon was just six and his mother had run out on him and his father at Christmastime. After that, his father, Calen’s grandfather, had apparently turned into a mean drunk who’d banned all things Christmas so the holiday wouldn’t remind him of his wife’s exit.
Calen could understand Christmas stuff being a trigger for bad memories. After all, he was dealing with that himself, but if he’d had a six-year-old son, he would have tried hard to put his own baggage aside and give the kid some semblance of holiday joy. Waylon’s father hadn’t done that for him.
And Waylon hadn’t done it for Calen.
The result was that Calen had never had a Christmas tree until he’d moved out of Waylon’s house and bought a place of his own. That year, Calen had gone all out, tinseling and lighting just as folks did in town. The thought of having to do all that decorating now was just plain depressing, and since he didn’t have a kid around, he’d probably skip the whole holiday deal for a while.
“I’m sorry,” Emmy muttered, drawing his attention back to her. She wasn’t a mind reader, but she was a face reader. His face anyway. And she no doubt knew where his thoughts had gone.
He dismissed her apology as she’d done his. “Anyway, I should have an answer from the postal inspector soon. Maybe before Christmas. Maybe,” he emphasized.
It would be somewhat of a miracle if it happened, but Calen had proposed the mail and packages could be handed out tomorrow night at the Mistletoe Ball, which was always held on December twenty-third. A very short turnaround but doable in a holiday miracle sort of way. He really didn’t want to have to hang on to the stuff any longer than necessary. “I called Vanessa Bozeman before you got here,” Calen continued. “She didn’t answer so I left a message. FYI, she goes by Nessa.”
That got Emmy studying his face again, no doubt to see how he was coping. “I don’t know how I feel about it,” he confessed. “It’s hard to believe Waylon cheated and kept a child secret, but then again, he kept all of this secret.” Calen motioned to the mail bags that were now sitting on his dining room table.
She made a sound of agreement. “But I wonder why he didn’t open the cards from Nessa. I mean, if she knew him well enough to call him Daddy, then why wouldn’t he want to open them?”
“Unfortunately, that might fall under one of thosesecrets for the agesdeals. Well, unless Nessa can fill in some of the blanks. At this point, I don’t even know for sure if she is Waylon’s child. The daddy label could have been just a term of endearment.”
Except that didn’t mesh with what Nessa had written in the first card he’d opened.
I hope one day me and my big brother, Calen, can be friends and that Mama and me can live with you and him.
The sentiment of a child who not only believed Waylon was her father and Calen was her brother but that she had a mother she hoped one day would be withDaddy.
Yeah, Calen was counting on Nessa having some answers. If she returned his call. It was entirely possible she’d washed her hands of Waylon and his son.
“Did Sasha pester you again about her letter?” Emmy asked.
“Not yet, but she probably will. Whatever’s in that letter must be very important to her.”
The interest sparked in Emmy’s eyes. “You found it?”
“I did. It was in the stash from two years ago.” He walked to the table and pointed to it. Easy to see since he’d set it in the center of the bags.
“Hmmm.” Emmy leaned in, studying it. “No name for the sender, just the address on Belmont Street. That’s been a rental house for years with tenants always moving in and out.”
Oh, yeah. Calen had noticed all of that and had wondered why the contents of that envelope would be so important to his ex. He’d also speculated about the identity of the person renting that house at the time the letter had been sent. It probably wouldn’t be hard to learn that if he asked around.
“The postmark date is about a year after Sasha and you got engaged,” Emmy pointed out, and even though she didn’t voice her thoughts right away, she was no doubt speculating whether the letter was from another man.
Perhaps Owen.
“Sasha and Owen said their hookup was a one-time thing,” she added reluctantly, “but do you think it could have been going on for a year or more before they were caught?”
“That’s occurred to me. It’s also occurred to me that Owen wouldn’t want a love letter to his friend’s then fiancée to get out. He’s already going to have to fight to win reelection, and this might sour even more folks.”
Emmy made a sound of agreement. “Sasha wouldn’t want a letter like that to get out either because she’s painting herself as the poor pitiful discarded ex who made a one-off mistake. People might not be willing to shop at her antique store if they find out she was a longtime cheater.”
The moment she finished saying that, her eyes widened. Then she sighed. “Sorry. Sometimes I let the anger take hold of my mouth, and I forget you might not want to think of just how long the cheating had been going on.”
No, he didn’t want to think about it, but that didn’t stop him from doing it. Emmy was no doubt doing the same because, after all, they were both in this nasty mess. When each had become engaged, neither of them knew they were pledging themselves to potential cheaters. It hadn’t even been on their radar.
“Wait,” Calen said, motioning for her to follow him into the kitchen so she could help herself to a drink from the fridge. “Sasha didn’t go to your house again, did she?” he asked, scowling over that possibility.
Emmy shook her head, and then she followed it up with a shrug. “Actually, I quit going to the door, and I got Terry to cover me at the bookstore because she said folks were showing up there, looking for me.”
Terry Webster. Along with being one of Emmy’s assistants, she was also married to Calen’s deputy, Mick. It’d been a wise decision to have her cover for Emmy because Terry wasn’t the sort to let anyone bully her into divulging info about the letters. Info that she might possibly have now because Mick could have told her. Mick hadn’t actually gone through the letters, but Calen had given him the highlights. What Calen had held back was any mention of the Daddy cards or the letter that Sasha was so obviously worried about.
