Now and Forever 4, The Renovated Heart (13 page)

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 Mike 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 him 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.

“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.

“If he’s your friend, Mom, isn’t he staying
for dinner?”

“I have no plans…” he shrugged, looking
expectantly at Kit.

“I guess he can stay. Why don’t we postpone
the upstairs tour then,” she said.

The three filed into the kitchen.

With Zoe’s help, Tunney set the table and
made the salad. Kit kept her ear attuned to their conversation,
waiting for a slip-up that would expose her charade, but so far
they talked about everything else except her ex-husband.

“Are you a professional landlord?” The girl
asked when they had all filled their plates.