She threw a pot holder at him. He ducked and laughed before disappearing out the front door.
“See you tomorrow.” He called over his shoulder.
“What time?”
“Early.”
She locked the door. Leaning against the wall, Kit peeked out the window to watch him drive away. Dump? She fell in love with the old house as if the freshly painted walls and comfy rooms were Prince Charming. He didn’t mean it. He grew up here. He’s taking good care of it. I love it. Bet he does, too.
The nip in the air signaled a new season beginning, causing her to wrap her arms around her chest. She relished the opportunity to warm herself in front of the fireplace, maybe with him. Maybe with Tunney upstairs in the bedroom. Maybe not.
After cleaning up the last of the dishes and putting away the leftovers, she climbed the stairs. The same creaks heard on her first night greeted her ears. Now they were familiar, friendly creaks, not scary. She welcomed the sounds.
Kit had to figure out what to do with the husband clothes tonight. Tomorrow she’d have to find a way to keep Tunney downstairs. The underwear and socks were back in the dresser in her old room, out of Zoe’s sight. Tunney said he used the third floor only for storage.
Kit took a flashlight along to help light the way up the steep steps to the third floor. The cluttered space had some dusty old furniture plus at least a dozen cardboard boxes. Kit picked her way through the open space, looking for a place to hide the husband clothes when she noticed a wooden box with the name Daniel George Nichols carved in the top. Brushing off the dust, Kit shoved the heavy box nearer to the dim overhead light.
Inside she found a photo album plus five large packets of letters, tied with ribbon along with his dog tags from the Viet Nam war, a silver flask, a pocket watch and cigarette case. Kit picked up the letters before calling Tunney.
Chapter Eleven
“Miss me already?” She couldn’t tell if the edge in his voice was sarcasm or hope.
“Not exactly. I got curious about the third floor. I found a box of your father’s stuff. There are letters in there. Do you mind if I read them?”
“Those old things? My parents are gone, I doubt those letters will reveal anything of interest, so if you want to poke around, go ahead. If you find out I was adopted, don’t tell me,” he joked. Kit pictured his funny grin.
“Okay. I’ll keep it private,” she said. “My father fought in Viet Nam, too, but he never talked about his time there.”
“My dad didn’t say much either. He didn’t talk much for almost a year after he got back. He was a POW. Took him a long time to live a normal life. He was never a big talker, but he came through when I needed him.”
Tears stung the backs of Kit’s eyes.
“This makes me miss my parents.” She sank down onto the carpeted floor.
“Have they been gone long?”
“Seven years.” Kit leaned back against the wall.
“What happened to them?”
“Dad died of cancer, Mom was killed by a drunk driver.” She took a deep breath to steady her voice.
“Must have been rough.”
“It was,” she said, quietly.
“What about Staid’s parents?”
“They never liked me. They live in Arizona and don’t have much to do with us, even Zoe. ”
“I can’t imagine anyone not liking you.”
She blushed. “I can be very bossy. I like to be in control.”
“Really? You don’t say. I can handle you...” He chuckled.
“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows then grinned since he couldn’t see her.
“Well maybe, not handle exactly…before I get into hot water…good night.”
“Good night.” The warmth of his voice caressed her.
Kit looked at her watch only nine o’clock. She went down to the kitchen for a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon then toted it up to the third floor. Sitting cross-legged on the floor and stationing the wine glass on a low table nearby, she opened up the ribbon on the pack with the letter marked number one. It read—
Dear Dan –
I just got word today you have been captured…or at least I’m hoping you’ve been captured. You are officially MIA, as of today. I don’t know what to do because I don’t know anyone whose husband is MIA, just dead or alive. So I’m going to assume you are alive. That’s the optimist in me you always tease me about.
I’m going to write you a letter every week and put it away. When you get home, you can read them all. You’re so practical, Dan, you’ll probably think this is stupid, but I just have to. I can’t stop writing to you. I have to believe you are coming home.
I miss you so much. Some nights Lucky, Samson and I curl up on the bed. We pretend you just went out for cigarettes. When are you coming home?
All my love,
Mary
Tears welled in Kit’s eyes. Imagine more than a whole year of letters written weekly to a husband who was MIA. She took a sip of her wine, a deep breath, then read on.
Letter number two
Dear Dan,
Today was a bad day. Your dad had chest pains so your mom took him to the hospital. They think the stress over you being MIA may be causing his heart problems. I made a casserole for them tonight. It was good not to eat alone, pardon me, Lucky and Samson, without human companionship.
I got an invitation to go to our high school reunion. I’m thinking of going. Don’t know if seeing all our old friends would make me feel better or worse. I told your little sister about the letters I’m writing to you. She wanted me to send you her love. She gave me a beautiful box she covered in pretty fabric to put the letters in till you get home.
Some days I don’t know what I’m doing, but we’re getting along somehow. Our bed is mighty cold and lonely at night without you, even with the animals. I pray you are not sick, have food and a blanket or even are already on your way home. Come home to me soon, Dan.
All my love,
Mary
Kit went on reading until two a.m. Mary’s steely devotion to Dan, details of their life in Willow Falls leaped out of the letters as if Mary were reading aloud. The strength from Mary’s words seeped into Kit’s heart, buoying her up as she imagined what Dan had felt when he returned home. He had saved these letters all these years, they must have meant a great deal to him. If Mary could be so steady in the face of such adversity, why can’t I face life…get on with it?
* * * *
Kit met Sarah at Turkish Delight, their favorite coffee shop for tea and a sweet. She told her friend about Mary’s letters. Sarah opened up about her life.
“I’ve struck out twice with men. I’m nervous about Jim. I don’t trust myself.”
“Twice? I know a little about Bob, there was someone else?” Kit sat forward, resting her forearms on their small table.
Sarah confided the details of her first love, Mike Flanagan.
“In my freshman year at Jefferson College in Washington, D.C., I fell in love with Mike Flanagan. He was a gorgeous twenty-one-year-old junior with black hair, sky-blue eyes…tall, well-built and well-liked…president of his class, vice president of the student council and his fraternity. All the girls had the hots for Mike. To make money, Mike worked at freshman orientation…where I met him.”
“He sounds great.”
“Oh, God. He was…a dream come true for me. I fell for him, hard. I think he loved me, too. We went to every fraternity party, every concert, studied together in the library, TGIF parties. We were inseparable…”
She paused for a deep breath, letting the air out slowly.
“And?” Kit took a sip of her coffee, her gaze glued to her friend.
“I gave him my virginity a month after we started dating. He was such a good lover…sensitive, tender…
A soft rosy glow settled in Sarah’s cheeks as she remembered happier times.
“So, what happened? Why didn’t you get married?”
“At the end of June, when Mik
e returned to his home town in Michigan to work as a lifeguard…my parents were killed in a car accident. I had to make a choice, my life or Callie’s.”
“Why?”
“Callie was sixteen. She’d have gone into foster care until her eighteenth birthday if I went back to college. I couldn’t desert her. So I stayed home for those two years to become her guardian.”
“Oh my God.” Kit put her cup down and squeezed Sarah’s hand.
“We had to sell our house. There was some money from life insurance plus the sale to pay for college. I went to Yorkville State at night and worked during the day so we could survive.
“What happened to Mike?”
“I wrote to him. He wrote back. I went to visit him a couple of times. But I saw pretty quickly we lived in different worlds. Mike was still a college kid, studying…partying. But I had to grow up fast. I became a bread winner, a responsible parent to a sixteen year old girl.”
“But you were in love…both of you, right?” Kit raised her eyebrows.
“We were. But…love doesn’t conquer all. He applied to graduate school while I tried to make it through each day. I had no future. The letters slowed down…stopped by December. In January he had met someone else. I got my dear john letter a week before Valentine’s Day.”
Sarah blinked rapidly and let out a breath.
“How awful.” Kit put her hand over her friend’s.
“I cried over him for a month…maybe more. The last years of my youth died in the car with my parents.”
“You were so strong. Callie must love you so much for what you did, what you sacrificed for her.”
“I resented her for a long time. After I lost Mike, I blamed her. We grew apart. It wasn’t her fault but I was so angry, so hurt…I pulled away from her. I don’t think I ever told her the whole story.”
“What ever happened to Mike?”
Sarah took the last bite of her chocolate croissant.
“He got engaged in March, so my friends at Jefferson told me. He sent me an invitation to the wedding, which I tore into little pieces. I lost track of him after that.”
“So you’re worried about Jim…” Kit drained her coffee cup and wiped her mouth.
“My track record choosing men isn’t very good. Why should I trust my judgment now?”
“Mike was young, immature. Jim’s older, more mature. You’re older. Maybe he’s the right one for you.”
The women opened their purses.
“Maybe…we’ll see…” Sarah pulled a crisp five dollar bill out of her wallet.
* * * *
Staying up late meant Kit overslept. Tunney’s insistent knocking woke her up. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes before flying down the stairs to open the door. The constant knocking took her attention away from the short black nightie with tiny red bows on the straps covering her naked body. Combing her hair with her fingers, muttering under her breath, she wondered if it was Tunney at the door.
“Hey, sleepyhead—” he said then stopped, suddenly speechless when he saw her. No visible panty line indicated no underwear under the skimpy sleepwear clinging dangerously low on her breasts. Kit felt his eyes almost burn through the flimsy fabric.
“Sorry…up late reading those letters,” she said, covering a yawn with one hand, her chest with the other.
He stood on the threshold, his gaze moving over her body. She looked at his eyes, then looked down at herself. She blushed red enough to match the color of the bows, and quickly raced back up the stairs.
He chuckled.
“I’ll be in the parlor, measuring the window for new glass while you put some clothes on,” he called up the stairs.
“Be right down.”
Kit threw on a tee shirt and snug jeans then joined him in the parlor.
“Don’t do that again,” he said, turning toward her.
“Do what? Read the letters?”
“Come to the door dressed like…or should I say undressed like you did.”
“What are you so mad about? I was covered up…even more than I would be in a two-piece bathing suit. Not like we’re dating or anything.” Kit sniffed, hands on hips.
“If we were dating, I wouldn’t object. In fact, if we were dating…never mind. But since we can’t be, I’d prefer not to see…what…what…” He stammered, searching for the words.
“What?”
“What I can’t have. Call me nuts, okay? Please, don’t parade around...”
She smiled, pleased she could have such a strong effect on him.
“I’ll be…ah…covered up at the door from now on.”
“All I ask.” He held up his hands, palms out.
“What are you doing today?”
“Finish measuring the window in here first, so you can write. Then attack the dining room again. There must be one hundred years of paint covering the beautiful wood because it’s taking forever to strip it off.”
“How about coffee?”
“Thanks. I should be finished in here by the time it’s ready.”
Kit put on the coffee then took out a couple of recipes for her dinner with Zoe. Tunney joined her.
“Those letters your mom wrote…are amazing.”
“Yeah? I’ve never looked at them.”
“Weren’t you curious?” She poured the piping hot brew.
“Private stuff, between them. There might be things in there I didn’t want to know.”
“Like what?”
“Stuff between husbands and wives…you should know what I mean.” A subtle blush stained his cheeks.
Kit sipped her coffee ignoring the prick of unshed tears. She had thought she understood what went on between husbands and wives…
“You mean sex?” she asked, putting her mug down to add more milk.
“God, did you have to say that word in reference to my parents?”
“Sorry, sorry. You have nothing to worry about; I haven’t encountered any of those types of references. Just one thing…”
“Don’t tell me!” he said, putting his hands over his ears.
“Don’t be such a baby!” Kit said, tugging on him.
“I don’t want to know.” He retreated to the back door.
“Come on, Tunney!” Kit followed him.
“You’re not going to stop until you tell me, are you?” He looked down at her, wearing his grin.
“No,” she said, smiling back at him, “I’m not.”
“Okay, okay.” He turned a chair around so he could perch on it cowboy style.
“Just one reference to the bed being cold and lonely without him.”
“Enough! That’s enough! I’ll be in the dining room,” he said, taking his coffee with him as he made a fast exit, leaving her laughing.
Instead of trying to write, she sneaked the husband clothes up to the third floor. The stack of letters tempted her to read more. Just for a moment.
Letter number fifteen
Dear Dan,
Today is your birthday. I decided to celebrate so I baked some cupcakes. I put yours in the freezer so you can eat it when you get home. Your parents were too sad to come over, so, Lily came instead. I also invited Bobby, Georgina, Ricky and Nancy. I think they all felt a little awkward but didn’t want to turn me down.
We talked about you, telling stories about high school. I learned some things about you and Peggy Turner I never knew. We can talk about that when you get home. We laughed at the old stories. I cried a little bit. Such a nice tribute to you. It helped to be with them.
Samson got into a fight with the cat down the block. I had to rush him to the vet’s. He’s okay; home in our bed licking his wounds. Lucky never fights. He stays pretty close to me these days, which I appreciate. Almost seems like he knows what’s going on. They say dogs are intuitive that way. I’m praying for your safe return.
All my love,
Mary
* * * *
Tunney purposely delayed his work on Sunday. He wanted to know why Kit didn’t want hi
m to meet her daughter. He didn’t buy her explanation. What could the problem be? They hadn’t done anything except share two measly kisses…except in his dreams of course. So why shouldn’t he meet Zoe? He dillydallied, puttering around until they were due home. He took his time cleaning up.
The rust bucket turned into the small driveway. A pretty, tall, blonde eleven-year-old girl piled out, swinging her book bag behind her. Kit got out and opened the front door. Tunney stood in the dining room, packing up the last of his tools.
“This house is old, Mom. Run down, decrepit,” Zoe said.
She flounced in, almost bumping into Tunney standing in the foyer, his feet planted firmly, a scowl clouding his handsome face.
“The house is getting a facelift.”
Zoe turned pink.
“Who are you?” She looked him over.
“I’m Tunney Nichols. I own this house,” he said, extending his hand.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude,” she said, completing the handshake.
Kit entered right behind her daughter.
“You’re forgiven,” Tunney said, looking at Zoe then at Kit.
“You’re the landlord, right?”
“Right. And your mother’s friend,” he continued, staring at Kit.
“Friend? Is that what they call it when…”she began, only to have her mother interrupt by shoving her along gently.
Chapter Twelve
“Let me show you around, Zoe. Mr. Nichols is leaving, aren’t you?”
“I’d love to go on the tour. Maybe I can answer some of your daughter’s questions about the house,” he volunteered, smiling while a tight frown landed on Kit’s face.
She took her daughter around the first floor, to each room, offering a brief explanation with Tunney interrupting at every turn, adding the history of the house.
“I can take her through the upstairs by myself. Besides, almost dinnertime.” Kit looked at her watch.
Now and Forever 4, The Renovated Heart Page 10