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I shook my head, focusing on my scone. “Nope, guess maybe they don’t want to write to a stranger either.” I shrugged.
Without responding, she let out a sigh, got up from her chair, and made her way around the counter. “Peggy?”
“Yes?” I said, turning to see her standing there with a bit of a worried look on her face.
“Don’t be mad, okay?”
I frowned. “Why would I be mad?” I shrugged, not knowing what Peggy was talking about. Then I noticed a sealed envelope in her hand. Embarrassment, worry, and then fear ran through me. “What is that?”
Trinity chewed her bottom lip for a minute, almost as if she were considering not telling me what was in the envelope. She came around and sat down in her chair, leaning forward to gather my full attention as she passed me the envelope.
“What is this?” I questioned, looking down at the envelope with my name on it.
“I noticed the night we went to drop off our letters that you were acting strange. I didn’t notice until after you left for the washroom that you had dropped your letter into the garbage pail instead of into the box. I wasn’t snooping. I just went to throw something in the garbage and caught the logo on the envelope. Anyway, I put the letter you wrote into the box. I figured, well hoped, that perhaps it fell, and you didn’t see it.” She smiled. “The look on your face tells me that you slipped it in the garbage instead. I had a hunch you would do that.” She winked.
I looked down at the envelope in my hand and looked back at Trinity. The letter hadn’t fallen; I had deposited it in the garbage. I wasn’t ready to do this, and since she knew me so well, she’d caught me.
“That is a response to your letter. Melinda asked me to deliver it to you, since she hadn’t seen you in a few days,” Trinity said, holding out the letter for me to take. “Are you mad?”
I let out a breath. “I suppose you’ve read this?”
Trinity shook her head. “No. I wouldn’t do that. I’d never read your mail, but I think you should have it. Honestly, I just think this will be a good thing for you.”
I nodded, looking down at my name written on the front of the envelope.
“Are you angry?” Trinity asked again.
I shook my head. “No, I’m not mad. This is just weird. It was such a struggle to come up with what to say in the first letter. I can’t imagine telling them any more, especially when I don’t know them.”
“Well, the good news is it’s just a letter. Read it, respond, and know that you’re never going to meet. Make things up or you can bear your entire soul to them and never worry about things biting you in the butt. Honestly, he or she is literally a safe stranger. Forever.”
* * *
Rain was coming down as I finished up the last of the dinner dishes and placed them back in the cupboard. I had gotten home this afternoon and dove right into this week’s order sheets. I needed to make sure that I had everything in stock before I began making the arrangements that were ordered.
I’d just sat down at the table to order things I needed when the letter Trinity had handed me caught my eye. It sat there, still sealed, waiting for me to open it.
When she’d brought it over to me, I’d cringed. Someone had read my letter, a stranger. I’d allowed Trinity to, but there was nothing in there that she didn’t already know. But a stranger… The thought of it was the reason I’d thrown the letter away. After all, who wanted to know about little Peggy Hollis?
I blew out a breath and picked up the envelope, flipping it over and over in my hand, before pulling at the small, lifted corner and tearing it open. I pulled out the letter and opened it, staring down at the handwriting. I didn’t even need to read a word on to know it was a man.
I threw the letter down, my stomach in knots, and went over to the counter. Lifting the already boiled kettle from its base, I poured the hot water over the tea bag that sat in my mug. Then I grabbed the mug and the letter and made my way over to the couch. I flipped the small light on and sat down.
Grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch, I threw it over my legs and opened the letter again, getting comfortable to read it.
Dearest Peggy,
Thank you for the wonderful letter and for sharing some things about yourself. My name is Ethan Alexander. I’m a 29-year veteran in the Marines. A Seargent Major and will be soon celebrating my retirement. It’s been a wonderful career, one that I’d do again if given the chance. People would say I’m crazy, but the opportunities this position has provided for me are one of a kind.
Like you, I don’t know many people. Well, aside from the men and women who serve under me. I have buried myself in my career, and now that I’m facing retirement, I know that meeting people will have to be something I get used to.
Also, like you, I lost my wife. She’d taken ill, and although she fought with all her might, she could not win her battle. After that, I too turned inward. It’s a hard thing to deal with, losing someone, but don’t be like me. I shoved many people away, including my daughter, because looking at her was like looking at her mother. We are currently working on repairing our relationship and I am grateful each day for her.
Do you have children?
What sort of things do you like to do in your spare time? I don’t have a lot of spare time in my current rank; I get two days off per month, and I basically use them for sleeping. Like you, I read. I’m a huge true crime fan and love the occasional political thriller. Is romance all you read?
The flower shop… I’m interested. You say you help people speak the language of love through flowers. I’m curious… can you give me an example? I remember my wife always telling me that her favorite flower was honeysuckle… care to shed some light on a guy who is flower illiterate?
