She brought out a generous handful of documents, then set them on Mr. Sarsky’s desk to sort through. Nothing but the company papers she needed. They smelled faintly of lilacs, though. It triggered a memory, of…what? It had been so long ago, she couldn’t recall what that scent was associated with.
She stood on her tiptoes and looked inside the safe again.
Seeing nothing else, Elaine began to close the safe’s door, let down. She’d fully expected to find evidence of some dark, hidden secret. Just before the heavy steel door once again sealed the fate of the letters within, a loud snap echoed in the interior of the vault. She opened the door wide once more and peered inside. She moved her head to the side, allowing more light into the dim interior and there, way at the back, was something. Excitement and fear surged through her body. Her heart raced as she reached inside, the safe almost swallowing the full length of her arm. Her fingertips touched paper and she pulled out what she thought was one envelope, but was, in fact, two, held together by an elastic. No, two elastics, the broken one caught beneath the one still intact.
Elaine gasped. If it hadn’t been for that snap, she wouldn’t have been drawn to look deeper inside. How strange that one of the elastics had chosen to break at that precise moment.
A shiver tiptoed up and down her spine. Something very weird was going on. Her gaze locked onto the envelopes in her hand. There was something strangely familiar about them, especially the pink-coloured one. Lilacs.
“So, that’s where it’s coming from,” she said aloud.
Elaine turned the package over, but only the backs of the envelopes were visible. They’d been put together address side in.
Elaine walked over to Ted’s desk again, completely absorbed. She pried off the remaining elastic and flipped the first letter over. She sucked in a sharp breath as she read the names on the envelopes. The one from Henry Pederson showed a postmark of December 1956. Jenny’s letter wasn’t stamped; it had never been mailed. Presumably, Ted had held it back. The two letters had somehow crossed paths in this office.
Elaine suddenly recalled the day Mr. Sarsky had asked her to take an envelope down to the furnace room to burn. She’d watched him put two letters in the envelope, one of them a pink one addressed to Henry Pederson. Ah yes, that lilac fragrance stayed with me as I took the envelope all the way to the elevator.
But Ted had called her back just as she had reached the end of the hall. Meeting her halfway, he’d taken the letters from her, having decided to deal with them himself. She’d often wondered what had happened to them, and why Mr. Sarsky had changed his mind at the last moment. She had thought he’d sent them on, but it was obvious now he hadn’t. But why hadn’t he?
Was this what had caused Mr. Sarsky’s excessive drinking? These letters and the ones in the box he’d asked her to destroy? Yes, these were probably the letters Mr. Sarsky was talking to that day. It seemed to her that the one he’d been holding was pink. It was all coming together so amazingly.
In her palm, the envelopes seemed to grow warm. She felt an inexplicable sense of comfort, and her anxiety faded into peace and calm. Something heavy shifted inside each envelope as she tipped them back and forth. The corner of one had been resealed with Scotch tape. She resisted the temptation to open it. She didn’t want to suffer whatever hell Mr. Sarsky had.
In all the years she’d worked for the company, she’d never once sat in the president’s chair. Countless times she had discreetly assisted various presidents to make sound decisions, but always from her secretarial role. She sank deep into the leather cushion and reclined, revelling for a moment in the power emanating from the chair. So this is what it feels like to sit here and make important decisions.
And she did have a very important decision to make.
What to do with those letters? It all made such sense to her now: Ted Sarsky had taken a dramatic turn for the worse after the business with these letters. Something about them had obviously caused him terrible grief and anguish.
Mail them.
Yes, that was it. Mr. Sarsky’s downfall had started right around the same time he’d asked her to take that box of letters down to be burned in the incinerator. For the longest time she’d regretted not keeping one.
But there was no need to see or read their contents. It was none of her concern. All it would reveal was correspondence between two teenagers. What should have been done right from the start was to mail the letters to their proper recipients. Not doing so had likely cost Mr. Sarsky his life.
Elaine leaned forward, bringing the huge chair upright. She gathered the business documents and the broken elastic. Normally, she would have tossed the broken elastic into the garbage but couldn’t, for some reason, bring herself to do that now.
“Dear Lord, You have a divine plan for everything and everyone…even to the last, most minute detail.”
She put the broken elastic in her jacket pocket.
Elaine returned to the wall safe, set the bundle back inside, closed the safe door and spun the dial. First thing in the morning. She stepped back feeling quite important and swung the painting flat against the wall.
She studied the beautiful landscape. Oh, how this painting must have given such moments of peace to her president whenever he had the time to gaze upon it. Perhaps he should have taken its serenity more to heart and mind.
Elaine walked to the door and flicked off the light. Her work for the day was done. She glanced at her own desk and chair in the reception area as she made her way to the main office door. They seemed meagre and unimportant in comparison to those she’d just left. She closed the office door behind her.
Downstairs, the commissionaire looked up as she stepped off the elevator.
“Good night, John.”
“Oh, good night, Elaine. You’re working late tonight.”
“Yes,” she agreed. A president’s work is never done.
She opened the front door and stepped out into the humid evening air. It had rained while she was inside. Silvery clouds scurried past, revealing a full, round moon suspended in the centre of the heavens, twinkling stars all around.
She took in a deep breath of fresh air washed clean of the day’s dust and exhaled slowly.
The streets were wet and empty and glistened in the city lights. She heard traffic in the distance but couldn’t actually see any. Her gaze followed a shimmering path of light on the pavement leading to Joe’s Diner just across and down the street. It was still open. A single customer, a man, was seated at the counter, slouched over a plate. Elaine was momentarily intrigued by his reflection in the large puddle at the side of the curb. She thought about going in for a coffee and sandwich, but decided to go home instead. A cup of herbal tea would be just fine.
As she walked to her car, Elaine visualized Ted Sarsky in the hospital, on the doorstep of death. Sorrow and compassion weighed her heart as a scripture passage came to mind: “The wages of sin is death.” Mr. Sarsky had lied, for years, and he had paid the price with his health. The lies, deceit, the terrible feeling of unforgiveness and guilt for his misdeeds, had stolen his peace. Now she knew what she’d seen in his eyes every day. If only Ted Sarsky had done with the letters what she now planned to do, he would have been spared so much.
Yes, she congratulated herself as her eyes brightened in the strong moonlight, I made a sound decision tonight…I would have made a damn good president.
Chapter Fifty
Julean and Henry couldn’t pack their stuff fast enough on the last day of classes to head back home. They both had summer jobs waiting for them, Julean working for her dad in his office, while Henry returned to his job with the Defense Department. He hoped to work with one of the tradesmen that summer.
All the way home, Julean and Henry had talked about getting married and all the plans they had to make.
“Oh, Hank, the summer is going to fly by, there’s so much to
do. Our premarital classes with Father Connelly start next Tuesday and then there’s all the planning for the wedding itself; the invitations have to be sent out before the end of July, there’s the guest list and I still have to get my gown. I’m getting so nervous about it all.”
“It’ll all work out, Julean. We’ve both been reading the books Father Connelly gave us last time we were home. We’ll have to zoom through the course because you’ll need as much time as you can to study so you’re ready to turn Catholic before the end of August. You’ll need to be baptized and confirmed and…”
“And then I can finally receive Holy Communion. I don’t know why, but I just can’t wait for that moment.”
“It is special, Julean. I’m afraid I’ve taken it for granted. You’re excitement has renewed my faith when it should be the other way around!”
“Have you heard from Mr. Engelmann yet about performing the ceremony?”
“In his last letter he said he had to speak with the archbishop about it since he won’t be officially ordained by that time. But he hasn’t gotten back to me yet.”
“I sure hope he can do it.”
“So do I. Mom said I got a letter from Gary. I asked her to open it and let me know if he said he could make it home to be my best man, but she said he wouldn’t be able to—Jane’s contracted some virus and he wants to stay with her. Apparently she’s pretty sick. I might ask Travis. After all, if it wasn’t for him, we might not have met.”
“Oh, I think Jesus would have figured out some other way to get us together.”
“Yeah, probably, but I’m also wondering about another guy I know—you haven’t met him—his name is Eddy Zeigler. We‘ve become very good friends since high school and I think it would mean a lot to him, and me, if he were my best man, too.”
“Well, why not have both Travis and Eddy, just like I’m having two bridesmaids?”
“That’s a good idea,” he said, grinning at her. Then he sobered. “I sure hope your mom and dad give us their blessing.”
“I do too, Hank. I’m sure they’ll come around. It’s a lot for them to take in; both their daughters getting married and leaving home. We’ll just have to pray about it, Henry.”
“Yeah, that’s what Mr. Engelmann would say. I’ll start praying to my guardian angel as well. I used to do that all the time, but this last year or so I’ve sort of forgotten to say the prayer I used to say every night.”
“Oh?” Julean was curious. “How does it go?”
Henry thought about Jenny; it was the prayer they shared and together so believed in. Henry struggled to pull his thoughts away and answer Julean’s question.
“Well, it goes like this: Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom His love commits me here; ever this day be at my side —and Julean’s,” he added, smiling at her, “to light and guard, to rule and guide. Amen.”
“That’s beautiful, Henry. Say it again, I want to memorize it and say it each day, too.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure,” she nodded. “So how did it go? ‘Angel of God,’ and then what?”
“My guardian dear, to whom…”
When they got back to Regina, Henry unloaded Julean’s suitcases and boxes at her place and then hurried home. He was just in time for supper and could hardly wait to open the door and smell his mother’s cooking. He was right: fried potatoes with onions, slow-cooked breaded pork chops and creamed corn met his senses.
Earlier that spring Bill had been promoted to the head of sales, so his father spent most of the meal telling Henry about some of the promotions they were carrying out, including putting Coke machines in all the high schools and donating some of the profits to the student councils of each school.
Later that evening as Henry prepared for bed, he sat down at his old desk. He was excited about his impending marriage to Julean, yet it bothered him immensely that her parents hadn’t given their spoken consent or any hint of blessing.
He recalled the evening he’d asked for Julean’s hand. Julean’s mother remained silent while her father said they should wait not only until university was over, but also a few years after that until they were established in their careers. He’d seemed firm in his decision and refused to discuss the matter further.
Henry would never forget what Julean had finally said. “Dad and Mom, I love you both very much and I have always obeyed you. But I love Hank very much too and we want to be married. We’re praying for your approval and it would make me the happiest girl in the world to receive your blessing. But…” and tears had come to his beloved’s eyes as she said what must have been so difficult for her. “Dad, you’ve always taught me to stand up for what I believe in and so,” and here she’d taken a deep breath, “with or without your consent I am going to marry Hank. I pray with all my heart that you and Mom will give us your blessing.”
Henry shook his head as he recalled it. He’d been certain the Carters would welcome him into their home, but they’d just remained silent.
As Henry thought about it all, he felt again the rejection he’d received from Jenny’s parents too. Neither family seemed to approve of him. The lack of acceptance of these very significant figures in his life stirred a feeling of insecurity that began to seep into his inner being. It was perhaps this sense of not being good enough that set him on a course of seeking the approval of others rather than the approval of God, which Mr. Engelmann had so ardently tried to instill in his student.
Absently, Henry opened the middle drawer of the desk. Jenny’s notes were still inside, along with a copy of the last letter he’d sent to her. He was tempted to read them all again—it had been years since he had—but decided against it. He didn’t want to stir up old feelings over a relationship that had simply vanished. And he loved Julean. Loved her deeply. And this time he would allow nothing to come between him and his beloved.
Henry gazed at the letter and notes for a long moment, trying to decide if he should tear them up or not. He decided not to decide, for the moment anyway. He closed the drawer to his desk, then knelt down beside his bed and crossed himself.
“Dear Lord, thank you for all my blessings, for my mom and dad, for Mr. Engelmann, for bringing Julean into my life. Please give me the strength to continue to respect Julean and her wishes to remain chaste. It’s so difficult to control my longing for her. Please help me, dear Jesus.”
He prayed that the future would be filled with much love and happiness. He prayed that Julean’s mom and dad would like him and accept him as their son. And he prayed, too, that God would bless Jenny. He hoped she had found someone and that she, too, was filled with much love and happiness.
“Oh, guardian angel, guardian dear, watch over all of us, continue to protect us…”
Henry crossed himself again and climbed into bed.
It was at times like this when he was overly tired and his defenses were down that thoughts of Jenny surfaced. Although he deeply loved Julean, deep down he still wasn’t over Jenny.
Henry tossed and turned for over half an hour until finally he drifted off to sleep. The last thought he had was to wonder again why Jenny hadn’t answered any of his letters.
If only he had received just one…
Perhaps it was this last thought that caused Henry to dream of letters, thousands of them, like a thick, heavy snowfall, flying everywhere. White wings stuck out on either side of the envelopes, fluttering gently as they moved about. They were angelic letters, some filled with words of love, some with hope, others of sadness and still others with answers to prayers…destined for someone.
And of the hundreds of thousands of letters, two of them, their envelopes pink and white, separated from the flock and fluttered away, each to its own destination, soaring up into the heavens above and beyond the rest until they seemed to become one and disappear into the starlit sky.
Chapter Fifty-One
The following night Henry phoned Eddy but was surprised to learn he had moved out three months ago. Mrs. Ziegler gave Henry her son’s new phone number.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Eddy?”
“That’s me. Hey, I recognize that voice! How you doin’, Hank, ol’ buddy?”
“Great! Your mom told me you’d moved out.”
“Yep, I came into some extra cash and thought I’d move into a place closer to the brokerage firm where I work. And I figured it was about time I got out on my own anyway.”
“Do you have time to meet for a few minutes? I’d like to talk to you about something—it won’t take very long.”
“Sure. I’m at the Balfour Apartments on Smith and Vic, but I’m just headed out.”
“The Balfour Apartments? Geez, Eddy that’s pretty swanky!”
“Yeah, like I said, I came into some extra dough and thought I should be comfortable. I tried to get the folks to move but they like the old place.”
“Well, since you’re going out, is there a better time to talk?”
“Actually, Hank, I’m just going to shoot a couple of games of pool at the Royal on 11th with a few of the guys from work. I can meet you there in fifteen minutes.”
“How about I pick you up and take you there? Dad and I were going to go out to a show soon anyway.”
“Thanks, man, but I’ve got my own set of wheels now. I’ll see you at the hall in a bit.”
Henry went to the living room where Bill was reading the paper. “I’m going downtown to meet Eddy for about fifteen minutes. What time does the movie start?”
Bill flipped through several pages of the paper and came to the movie section. “Let’s see, I’m sure the second feature starts shortly after eight…yeah, here it is, eight-twenty. We should leave here by quarter to eight for sure, son.”
Henry checked his wristwatch. “It’s only six-fifteen. That should be plenty of time.”
Another Angel of Love Page 45