Me: *giggles*
Ford: I miss that sound.
Me: I miss you.
Ford: Not as much as I miss you.
Me: Impossible.
Ford: We’re almost out of time. I need to wolf down the rest of this food. If I didn’t need to fuel so much, I’d say screw it and spend my last four minutes of dinner talking to you.
Me: Go. Eat.
Ford: Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.
Me: You do the same. Love you.
Ford: Love you most. Have a good night at work.
Me: You too.
Dear Ford,
I did a thing. I wanted to tell you last night, but I didn’t want to do it in a text. I’m not sure a letter is much better, but it seems right. Remember when you mentioned me going back to school or doing whatever I wanted?
Well… I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. A lot. Especially when it’s a slow night downstairs. I might have checked into that. Today in the mail, I received my information packet for the Kentucky School of Cosmetology. It’s about forty-five minutes away but won’t be too bad a drive. Jet has agreed to work with me on my schedule, if I decide to pursue it. I’m still torn. I mean, a part of me wants to do it. It might be my ticket out of here. And when I was in high school, and they did career day, it was the only thing I could see myself doing. But with a mom who wasn’t paying the bills, all my money went to that, but over the last few years, I’ve been able to save a bit. Plus, when I was filling out some stuff online, I might have qualified for tuition assistance.
Anyway, this packet is staring at me while I sit to write this letter. I don’t know if I’ll fill it out or not. I probably shouldn’t even have said anything, but I’ve been dying to tell you.
So there. My big news. We’ll see if I actually fill out all those forms or not.
I’ve also been talking to Faith a lot. We’re considering a girls’ trip soon. Somewhere close, but a long weekend somewhere. Maybe somewhere between the two of us, we’ll see if something transpires from those discussions, but I kinda hope it does. I really like your sister.
Oh, guess what! Aunt Joan told me at lunch that my mom showed up at her house over the weekend. She said she was just there for a visit, but she eventually asked for money. Mom swore it wasn’t for drugs, but I could tell Aunt Joan didn’t believe her. I just wish things were different, you know?
Anyway, enough of that doom and gloom.
I was just checking the weather forecast, and we’re supposed to have storms later. That means no stars. But I’ll still look up, pretending they’re there. We’re on Scorpius. It’s prime time to see it, but probably not tonight. The next clear, hot summer night, we’ll find it.
Well, I should go. I have to change out of your shirt before work. But no worries! I’ll put it back on before bed tonight.
Oh… I also just realized it’s been two weeks! Two weeks apart, but now two weeks closer to your release. We’ve got this!!
LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Yes, my love required 22 !’s)
Shayne
I reach for my body spray and give it a little spritz, making sure some of the moisture falls onto the paper. Smiling, I carefully fold the paper, picturing the moment when he brings the paper to his nose and inhales. Once it’s ready, I slip it into the envelope, lick the tab, and place the stamp in the upper-righthand corner. Then, like a complete loon, I kiss the name I had already printed across the front.
“Love you,” I whisper, setting the letter aside and making a note to run it to the mailbox down on the corner first thing in the morning.
Just as I jump up to get ready for work, a text comes through my phone. Thinking it’s Ford, I reach for the device and tap on the screen. It’s my uncle.
Uncle Henry: Hey, kiddo, I’m downstairs with pie. Are you upstairs or in the bar?
Me: Upstairs! I’ll come down and unlock the door.
I toss my phone onto the couch and make a beeline for the stairs with a grin on my face. As soon as the door is open, he grins and spreads his arms. I step forward, pressing against his familiar chest, and squeeze as his arms wrap around me. “How’s my favorite niece?”
I snicker. “I’m your only niece.”
When I step aside, Uncle Henry secures the door and follows me up to my apartment. “Apparently, your aunt had a hankering for a strawberry rhubarb pie. She whipped up six pies this afternoon after picking rhubarb from the garden and asked me to deliver them.”