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Getting back under the covers, she opened her phone. There were several new messages, one from an unknown number.“Hi Vivian, I’m Riley, Aiden’s sister”was the part of the message she could see without opening it.
Filled with uncertainty, she stared at the message. Both Janice and Annie kept telling her she should listen to what Aiden had to say, but how could she trust him again after what he’d done? And now his sister was also sending her messages.
Her fingers were opening the text even before her brain had acknowledged the fact she wanted to see what the message was all about.
Aiden’s previous texts were still on her phone. There were several morePlease talk to memessages and a fewPlease let me explainones. She hadn’t responded again.
A text from Aiden’s sister, however, was more difficult to ignore. She opened it.
“Hi Vivian, I’m Aiden’s sister, Riley. I know you’re angry with him, but I don’t know if you have all the facts. It’s not my story to tell, but maybe after you’ve read what he’s written (see link), you’ll give him a chance to explain his motives to you. He’s one of the good guys. I’m biased, yesLove, Riley.”
Vivian’s thumb hovered over the highlighted line. What story did Riley want her to read?
Her door flew open and Annie rushed in, eyes sparking, her hair all over the place. Behind Annie, his eyes glued on his phone, was Mitch.
“Viv—please tell me you’ve read the story!” Annie cried out.
“What story?”
“Aiden’s story.” She inhaled sharply. “He hasn’t sent you the link?”
Irritated, Vivian put her phone down. “His sister has sent me a link to a story she thinks I should read, but seriously, I don’t have to read anything I don’t want to. I wish everyone would just stop—”
“You should read it,” Mitch said. “It’s a beautiful story.”
“What story?” Vivian exclaimed.
Annie picked up Vivian’s phone and put it into her hand. “Read the damn story.” She turned around and stomped out of Vivian’s room, slamming the door behind her.
Sulking, Vivian stared at the closed door. Nobody could make her read anything she didn’t want to read. As she stared at the phone, her dream resurfaced, and for a moment, she swore she could hear the water of the river rushing by. Aiden, the little boy, and the dog were waiting for her on the porch of the house. All she had to do was cross the river.
The vision cleared, and nearly frantic, she grabbed her phone, opened Riley’s message, and clicked on the link. The first thing her eyes landed on was Aiden’s name. Aiden O’Sullivan. With her heart beating like a runaway train, she began to read.
Find a feel-good story. That was the directive. So this highly cynical reporter, convinced he was wasting time and money, booked a ticket and flew across state lines to get to a small town in Montana where, he’s been told, feel-good stories are in ample supply, especially on Valentine’s Day—a day, I must add, I’ve never celebrated before.
Nestled at the foot of Copper Mountain is the quaint town of Marietta. The weather in winter, be warned, is raw, the wind biting. It’s cold. You’ll be chilled to the marrow within a few minutes of getting out of your car. However, the kindness and cordiality amongst the unpretentious folk as well as the cheerful red Valentine hearts, cupids, and fairy-lights spilling out on to the streets from every single shop in town, will warm even the most skeptical heart.
Vivian had to grab a tissue at this point; why did she feel like crying? Her eyes quickly skimmed over the next few paragraphs where Aiden recapped the history of Marietta.
It was here,he’d written,I met a soft-hearted doctor, a determined little boy, and the friendly owner of the town’s flower shop.
Aiden described the scene she’d witnessed where he and Tommy went into the florist’s shop.
You see,” his story continued,Tommy had heard that one is supposed to give flowers to the person you love on Valentine’s Day, and although he wasn’t sure how to go about it, he knew exactly who the recipient of his flowers should be. Someone he clearly adores, someone who had no trouble helping him in the middle of the night when he fell out of a tree and broke his arm.
When Tommy asked for this very jaded reporter’s help, the first cracks in a hardened heart appeared.
So, if you’re not afraid of the cold, you should head on over to Marietta, Montana, today where you’ll be able to witness the ending to this beautiful story. At the Valentine’s ball in the ballroom of the Graff Hotel.
I’m happy to report, love is alive and well in Marietta, Montana.
By the time Vivian had finished reading the story, tears were running down her face. In only a few paragraphs, Aiden had managed to reveal the heart and spirit of this beautiful town she and her siblings had come to love.
What he’d also done was to make her feel good about herself. He really was, like his sister said, one of the good guys. Words, his words, had healed her broken heart in the span of one article. In writing this article, Aiden had also managed to do what he’d told her on that first night she’d visited Janice’s house– made a difference to people’s lives.
Annie poked her head around the door. “Have you… Oh, Viv…” She rushed forward. “Are you okay?” She sat down on the bed beside Vivian, her eyes big and filled with concern.
Vivian sniffled. “I’m okay, thanks, Annie.”
