14 Love Letter Lane
(Book one of the Celebrating Love Trilogy)
By Merri Hiatt
Copyright 2012 Merri Hiatt
Smashwords Edition
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
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Cover image credit: Nana77777/Shutterstock.com
Visit Merri Hiatt’s website! http://merrihiatt.com
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For all the hopeful romantics
who dream of having a bundle of love letters
tied with ribbon tucked away in a special place.
Chapter One
Andrea reached into her seashell covered mailbox and pulled out a stack of mail. Bill, advertisement, special offer, letter. She stopped rifling and checked the return address on the envelope that housed the letter. Nothing. Turning the envelope over, she scanned the triangular section on the flap. Her eyes met an embossed pink rose.
“Curious.”
She made her way along the front walk as pansies greeted her with cheery faces colored in brilliant yellow, deep purple and sparkling white.
The two-story house she inherited from her parents three years ago welcomed her home once again. Its cobalt blue exterior and happy white shutters were the perfect complement to the seashore that served as her backyard.
As Andrea climbed the four steps that led to the wraparound porch, she remembered her parents’ words: We’d rather give you the house now than wait until we’re dead. We want to see you enjoy it. You’ve always loved the beach and now you can walk along the sea’s edge every day.
Childhood memories filled her thoughts as she entered her home. She could never bring herself to paint over the height marks she, her brother and her sister made on the thin dividing wall between the kitchen and dining room.
As she passed by the area, her fingers touched the pencil markings and she smiled.
“You can’t have grown two inches in a week,” Carena had said when her brother, Steven, carefully placed a ruler on top her head and let the edge rest against the wall.
“Maybe I had a growth spurt,” Andrea replied.
“No way!” Carena eyed Andrea suspiciously, then said, “Shenanigans! You’re on tiptoe!”
Andrea had been caught cheating. She lowered her heels and Steven re-measured her height. Sure enough, she hadn’t grown even a quarter of an inch.
Steven was the oldest. One year older than Carena. He had been their self-appointed protector, giving them vital information on how to survive their first days of middle school, junior high and high school.
Andrea glanced at the waves falling on the warm sand as she headed for the library, her favorite room in the house. The walls had built-in shelving from floor to ceiling. It had been Andrea’s great joy to fill them with her favorite authors’ books. Even with the popularity of e-books, she still loved the feel of a paperback book in her hands.
The fireplace held special memories of Christmas with stockings hung from the mantel.
She crossed over to the two windows and opened them, then unlocked the sliding glass door. The sea breeze filled the house with its calming aroma and soothing sounds.
Andrea kicked off her shoes and sat in the tan overstuffed chair, placing the stack of mail beside her.
She opened the envelope and pulled out a soft lavender piece of paper. Andrea unfolded it to reveal a masculine hand had written the words. Andrea began to read.
Dear Andrea,
I have wanted to write this letter for some time now, but I couldn’t seem to find the words I wanted to say. Even now, I am not sure this letter will convey my feelings adequately, but here goes.
I am in love with you.
You may be asking yourself what it is about you that makes me say that. There are so many things.
When I see you walking along the ocean’s edge, kicking the water playfully with your feet, I want to join you and ask what you are thinking. You always have a curious smile on your lips and a look of peace seems to fall upon your features.
When Mrs. Charleston’s dog, Peaches, digs under the fence and finds her way onto your porch, and your favorite wicker chair with the cream-colored cushion, you never chastise her. You give her hugs and kisses and lift her into your lap and allow her to stay in comfort until Mrs. Charleston comes looking for her.
The first of every month, you leave cookies in your mailbox for your mail carrier. You don’t see her face when she opens your mailbox and finds the sweet treats, but she smiles widely and always eats one cookie right then and there.
Late at night, I notice you walking along the second floor balcony as you look out to sea with a dreamy look on your face. Sometimes I imagine you are wishing for a man to find you and sweep you off your feet. Then I pretend I should be so lucky as to be that man.
I don’t want you to think I’m stalking you. I’m not. It’s just that you are warm and caring and touch everyone’s life with your gentle nature.
I have probably said too much, but I could not let another day pass without letting you know there is someone who notices your kindness and appreciates it beyond measure.
As I say, I am not sure these are the right words, but here they are laid out before you nonetheless.
If you ever feel lonely or small and think, even for a moment, that no one cares, please remember what I have said in this letter.
Your spirit brings hope to me. Maybe one day our paths will cross and I can share all these feelings in person. If not, please tuck them away in a safe place and remember how much I love you.
You are in my thoughts always,
Your Secret Love
Andrea read the letter three times, the words surprising her anew each time.
“I don’t know whether to be delighted or alarmed.”
She placed the letter back in its envelope, checking the postmark. It had been mailed from Lexington one day ago. It was someone local.
It could be any number of people she saw every day. Her mind played out the normal events of her day and the many people she encountered. No one in particular stood out.
She would be sure to pay attention tomorrow. Everyone was a suspect in her love letter mystery.
Andrea put the letter aside and opened the rest of her mail, tossing the advertisements in the wicker basket by her chair and putting the bills in order by due date and placing them in a file with a soft blue label titled To Be Paid.
She retrieved a bottle of water from the kitchen and headed out the sliding glass door toward the beach.
The Donaldson kids, Amy and Mark, were building a sandcastle. Their Dachshund, Tucker, kept stepping on parts of it in his excitement to play with them. They scolded him time and again, but it made no difference.
Andrea waved to them and they waved back with big smiles on their faces. Tucker ran over for a pat on the head and an exuberant kiss, then returned to his family.
As far as her eye could see, there was water. Diamonds of light shimmered off the quiet ocean, even the waves seemed to have paused to rest for a moment. An entire world lived beneath the surface.
Andrea remembered camping out on the beach with her friends and making up stories about mermaids and magic. Whenever things got tough, she thought about living under the deep blue waters.
She learned to use a snorkel and fins when she was seven, always with adult supervision, of course. If she had her way, she would stay in the water until she was one big giant prune. Many were the times she wondered if her wrinkled and shriveled skin would become a permanent fixture. Her mother assured her it would not.
As she continued walking along the ocean’s edge, she picked up shells of all kinds and placed them in her pockets. She had hundreds of glass containers holding shells around her home, but never tired of searching for more.
The idea that a shell may have traveled from clear across the world to land at her feet always mesmerized her.
She wondered if her secret love was watching her. She glanced over her shoulder, but saw no one except the kids. How long had he been watching her? Days, months, years? He knew people’s names and very specific details about her life. It simply had to be someone she saw on a daily basis.
“That could be anyone,” Andrea mumbled. Owning a coffee shop meant she encountered many people throughout the day; some regulars, others occasional visitors, and still others who came in once and never returned.
The wind picked up a bit and blew her hair loose from its barely knotted burgundy scarf. She tried to push it back, but the breeze was powerful. She turned her face into the wind and felt her scarf falling down her back. She reached for it, but the wind had other ideas.
As she chased the scarf across the sand down the beach toward old man Johnson’s home, her hair marred her vision again and again. Finally, she caught up to the see-through fabric and snatched it up quickly.
Andrea turned her face to the breeze once again and gathered her hair together so she could tie the scarf securely around it once more, then headed back toward her home.
Tucker saw her coming and ran to greet her again, escorting her as he carefully avoided the waves as they caressed the shore.
“Nice castle.”
“Thanks. Tucker keeps stepping on it and we have to keep rebuilding it,” Amy said.
“I noticed that. I think he wants to join in the fun.”
As if on cue, Tucker ran straight through the middle of the castle, his feet and low belly destroying the moat, wall and turrets the kids had so carefully crafted.
“Tucker!” Mark hollered.
“Mom! Call Tucker,” Amy requested.
“Tucker! Get in here. Come on, Tucker!” Mrs. Donaldson yelled from the kitchen window.
Tucker ran to the back porch, up the boarded ramp they had made especially for his short legs and into the doggy door.
“Looks like you’ll have to start rebuilding,” Andrea said.
“We need to build a moat around us next time,” Mark said.
“To keep our castle safe from Tucker,” Amy said.
“Good idea,” Andrea agreed. “I’ll see you guys later.”
“Bye, Andrea.”
“See you later, Andrea.”
Andrea made her way to her home and heated up leftover spaghetti in the microwave, then checked her e-mail and Facebook.
“I wonder if my secret love could be one of my Facebook friends?” She thought back to what she had posted as her status for the last several months. She had mentioned several events, just in passing, not thinking that anyone was actually paying attention to what she wrote. “Guess I should be a bit more careful about what I post on the internet.”
Andrea prepared for bed. Just before she closed her eyes to go to sleep, she wondered if her secret love was thinking of her right then.
Chapter Two
Andrea’s clock sounded its shrill alarm at quarter to six. She hit the snooze button and rolled over, trying to focus her eyes as they were drowsy with sleep.
Ginny had offered to cover the early morning shift at Revive, allowing her to sleep in two extra hours. Plus, it was a Tuesday, the slowest day at the coffee shop.
When her alarm buzzed again, she got out of bed and headed for her Yoga mat for an hour of stretching, then hit the shower. She made it to Revive by eight o’clock.
The sea green exterior punctuated with black trim was eye-catching and fresh without being overstated. Flyers were posted on the outdoor bulletin board boasting their new Friday night poetry readings.
Most of their business arrived in the form of employees from the businesses on the boardwalk as they made their way into work. Lunch time was also busy. It was the evening when things slowed down considerably.
If offering entertainment brought in new customers, Andrea was considering adding a Saturday night musical group. Most likely singers and songwriters first, as their style would lend itself well to acoustic performance.
She was also toying with the idea of starting a book club that would meet on Sunday afternoons or Monday evenings.
“Morning, Ginny,” Andrea said as she passed by her co-worker and placed her handbag and jacket in her locker.
“Hi, Andrea. How’d you enjoy the extra hours of sleep?”
“It was heavenly, thank you.”
Andrea surveyed the customers.
Dale Reynolds was sitting in his usual chair by the front window reading the newspaper. A half-eaten donut and a cup of coffee sat next to his iPhone. Now that his daughter was two weeks from her due date to deliver his first grandchild, the phone was ever-present.
Jessica McGuire and her daughter, Sophie, were petting Sabrina, the cat Darcy adopted, and thus, the entire coffee shop had adopted. She was black with white fur on her paws and a splotch of white by her mouth. She was the mellowest cat Andrea had ever seen.
Loralie Whittaker had her nose in a thick paperback. Her feet resting on a pillow she brought with her to place on an adjacent chair.
“Has Carl been in yet?” Andrea asked.
“No.”
“He wasn’t in yesterday, either.”
“That’s unusual.”
“That’s what I was thinking. Maybe I’ll swing by the VFW Hall this afternoon and ask if anyone’s seen him.”
“Good idea.”
“All right, you simply must tell me where you got those boots,” Andrea said, eyeing Ginny’s knee-high scarlet leather boots with the chunky heel and embedded rose pattern.
“I succumbed to the persistent sale signs at Shoes for the Soul. They were half off!”
“Half off of how much?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. Fess up. They say confession is good for the soul.”
“Let me put it this way. A week’s worth of paychecks and tips.”
“Ouch!”
“I know, but aren’t they awesome?”
“I certainly coveted them the minute I saw them, so yes.”
The bells on the door jingled as Darcy Langston came barreling through the door. “If one more idiot comes up to me and asks if I want to give money to so-and-so for such-and-such, I’m going to scream!”
“You can barely walk down the boardwalk these days without getting accosted every few feet,” Ginny agreed.
“It’s ridiculous!” Darcy said, throwing her oversized bag into her locker and putting on Revive’s standard green and black apron. “I mean… holy smokes! Where did you get those boots?”
“Shoes for the Soul.”
Darcy bent down to examine the boots more closely. “Give them to me. I want them.”
“Not for sale.”
“Aw, come on, Gin. They are exactly the kind of thing I’d love and you know it.”
“They’re exactly the kind of thing I’d love and you know it.”
“Yes, but…”
“Customer,” Andrea said in a hushed tone as someone she had never seen before entered the coffee shop. “Welcome to Revive. We’ll take your order whenever you’re ready.”
“Thanks.” The man glanced at the chalkboard with today’s specials and then said, “What do you recommend?”
“What’s your favorite book?” Ginny asked.
“Huh?”
“What’s your favorite book?”
“What does that have to do with what I’m going to order?”
“I can choose what you’ll like best if you tell me your favorite book.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. Let’s see,” the man rubbed his chin and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “The Shining by Stephen King.”
“You’re a man who likes a well-written story,” Ginny began as she gathered ingredients to make a hearty espresso with a touch of dark chocolate and cayenne. “You like surprises, but also enjoy a hint of foreshadowing.”
Ginny began toasting a bagel and then gathered smoked salmon and cream cheese to place on it. “You favor dependability and consistency rather than the latest fad.”
“Are you some kind of fortune teller? I saw a couple of those on the boardwalk yesterday.”
“She moonlights at Midnight Mavens and can tell you more about you than you know yourself,” Darcy said with a wink.
“I have a feeling you girls find yourselves in a bit of mischief now and again.”
“Us?” Ginny said with wide-eyed fake astonishment. “Why, we’re good church-going Christians who never even venture out after six o’clock.”
“They’re just yanking your chain, mister,” Loralie said as she approached the counter for a second cup of hot chocolate. “But, I’ll tell you this. Any one of ‘em would give you the shirt off their back if you needed it. They’re good people. That’s why I come here every day. Good drinks. Good food. Good people.”
Darcy smiled as she gave Loralie her hot chocolate, complete with whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles and three cherries on top, just as Loralie liked it. “What book are you reading?”
“Some trashy novel by a long-winded gal. She writes good sex scenes, though. Passionate ones. I give her credit for that.” Loralie returned to the chair she had vacated and began reading again, letting her hot chocolate cool a bit.
“Here you are, sir,” Ginny said, handing him the coffee and bagel.
“What if I don’t like it?”
“If I guess wrong, it’s on the house.”
“Fair enough.” The gentleman made his way to a table near the front window so he could watch the waves and the passersby.
“Can you guys come here a sec?” Andrea asked.
They followed her into the back room and Andrea showed them the love letter.
“Who do you think it is?” Darcy asked, having finished before Ginny.
“I have no idea.”
“That’s kind of creepy. He’s like stalking you or something,” Ginny said.
“I know. I can’t decide if I’m thrilled, bewildered or just plain uneasy about the whole thing.”
“Well, I think it’s exciting,” Darcy said. “We see hundreds of customers in a week and it could be any one of them.”
“I wonder why they wrote the letter now, and how long they’ve been watching you,” Ginny said.
“It was strange. Just yesterday I was walking along the beach and I felt as if someone’s eyes were watching me. It was unnerving.”
“I think the guy wants to meet you. I mean, why else would he finally contact you if not to take it further?” Darcy said.
“We should keep an eye out. Watch everyone over the next few days and see who pays special attention to you,” Ginny said.
They all agreed.
Darcy danced around the back room, waving the letter around in her hand. “Andrea has a secret love. Andrea has an admirer.”
“Sh! I don’t want anyone to know about the letter,” Andrea said, snatching it out of Darcy’s hand.
“One person already knows,” Ginny said.
“You don’t think it’s David, do you?” Darcy asked.
“I wondered about that. He hasn’t tried to reach me in six months. I really do think he finally understands that it just wasn’t working out between us. Besides, I heard a couple weeks ago that he’s dating Stacy Emerald.”
“The topless dancer at Brouhaha’s?” Darcy asked.
“One and the same.”
“She’ll keep him busy. If for no other reason, all the trips to the free clinic to see if she’s pregnant or has another STD.”
“Darcy!” Ginny exclaimed.
“Well, it’s true. That woman goes through men the way some people go through toilet paper. Frankly, I’d rather have toilet paper touch my ass than come within two inches of anything that woman has to offer.”
“Customer,” Andrea said.
“I’m on it,” Ginny replied, heading back out to the front of the coffee shop. “How was your bagel and coffee, sir?”
“I had my doubts about you in the beginning, but I have to admit, you pegged me exactly right.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“You’ll be seeing more of me in the days ahead.”
“Are you from Lexington?”
“No, I’m not from around here, but there is a certain charm to the city and I think I’ve found my favorite hangout already.”
“We hope you feel comfortable here. That’s how Andrea wanted the place to feel; a bit like home.”
The man turned and looked out over the tables and chairs. They were a warm oak and the seats were padded with black fabric. The sea foam green walls began where the black wainscoting ended, halfway up the wall. Local art met his eye with signs saying a new artist was featured every month. Currently, the art was from a woman who focused on close-up painting. A limb from a cherry tree, the edge of a pot, a wrought iron stair railing, all became fodder at her artist’s hand. Potted palms completed the scene, along with three skylights that made the interior feel airy and light.
“She did a good job.”
“Since we’re going to be seeing more of you, my name’s Ginny. The curly redhead is Darcy, and the short, dark-haired gal is Andrea, she’s the owner.”
“Glad to meet you. I’m John Carlson.”
Ginny reached her hand across the counter to shake John’s hand. When they touched, she felt a zing of electricity shoot along her skin. She hadn’t thought of the gentleman in that way, but his chocolate brown eyes and sandy hair, as well as his casual, yet confident, swagger piqued her interest. “I look forward to seeing you again.”
“So will I.” John turned and headed back toward the exit as Ginny watched him walk away.
“Oh, man, she’s doing it again,” Darcy said.
“I thought we had a rule,” Andrea said. “No dating customers.”
“What dating? Who’s dating? I just met the man. Chill out, you guys. Did you see his eyes, though? They were like pools of melted chocolate. And, his hands were strong and slightly calloused; a working man’s hands.”
Darcy and Andrea exchanged glances. “I think we’ve lost her for the day,” Darcy said.
Andrea nodded.
The bells jingled again as Maxwell Aster came through the door with his mailbag slung crossways over his shoulder and chest. “Morning, ladies.”
“Hi, Max,” they said in unison.
“I only have a few today.”
“Good, less bills,” Andrea said, taking the small pile of mail from the courier.
“What’ll you have, Max?” Darcy asked.
“I’ll take an iced mocha.”
“Is it warm outside yet?” Ginny asked.
“It’s just starting to heat up. It’s supposed to be in the low seventies.”
“That’s one thing I love about Lexington,” Darcy said, “You can get a tan year-round.”
“Tanning is so bad for your skin. I can’t believe you still lay out in the sun. Reports have shown…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, reports are all well and good, but you and Andrea look like vampires half the time.”
“Hey! Don’t drag me into this. I walk on the beach every day and I am not pale. A bit of sun is good for you, gives you Vitamin D.”
“A bit, yes, but Darcy lays out on the beach for hours at a time.”
“So sue me. If I get all wrinkly and my skin turns rubbery, so be it. I’ll be too old to care when that happens.”
Max watched the women with a bemused grin. He always enjoyed coming into Revive and hearing what their latest faux squabble was about. The women had been friends since grade school, the way he heard it, and it was obvious they cared a great deal for one another. “Excuse me, ladies, can I get my drink now?”
“I’m on it,” Ginny said as she ignored her friends and went straight to work preparing Max’s drink. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, Ginny. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Max,” they all said.
Max waved over his shoulder and headed to his next delivery.
Chapter Three
“If you’re not going to give me the boots, can I at least borrow them?” Darcy asked.
“I’ve had them less than twenty-four hours. What do you think?” Ginny replied.
Darcy scowled.
“Bye,” Sophie said as she and Jessica headed for the door.
“See you later,” Jessica said.
“Bye, Sophie. Bye, Jessica.”
Darcy cleared off their table and wiped it clean, bringing the dishes to the kitchen to be washed later.
“I’m off, too,” Loralie said, gathering her belongings. “Don’t let Darcy strong-arm you into borrowing those boots, Ginny.”
“No worries, I won’t.”
“My time’s up, too,” Dale said.
“Any news?” Darcy asked as she continued cleaning the tables.
“Any time now. I’m just waiting on the phone call.”
“How does it feel to know you’re going to be a grandpa?”
“I never thought I’d be so proud as when my wife was pregnant with our kids, but I think I’m even prouder of Lizzie. She’s going to make a great mother.” Dale put his iPhone in his pocket and took his coffee cup up to the counter for a refill. “Fill ‘er up, Ginny.”
“You got it. Keep us posted about Lizzie.”
“I will.” Dale said, then took his coffee cup with Revive blazened across the side with him as he headed for the boardwalk.
“Let’s make a list,” Ginny said, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen.
“A list of what?” Andrea asked.
“Who your secret admirer could be.”
Darcy finished cleaning and joined them at a table.
“Carl’s too old and I don’t think your secret love is a woman, so that rules out Loralie and Jessica,” Ginny said.
“Max,” Darcy suggested.
“The mail guy?” Andrea asked.
“Why not? He knows practically everyone in town and you were sent a letter, seems like a no-brainer to me.”
Ginny scribbled his name quickly. “Jim Watson, Charles Duncan, and that cute UPS guy who’s always winking at you.”
“J.R.? He is definitely not interested in me. He has the hots for Cynthia Michaelson.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s all he ever talks about.”
“We shouldn’t rule out anyone,” Darcy said. “Our list needs to include everyone you come in contact with or it won’t be helpful at all. We have to assume that anyone could be the secret admirer.”
Andrea and Ginny nodded. They spent the next half hour thinking of names until Ginny drew an arrow at the bottom and turned the page over to add more names on the back.
“This is like looking for a needle in a haystack. We’ll never find the one person out of hundreds we see every week,” Andrea said.
“Let me see the letter again,” Darcy said.
“It’s on the desk. I never put it away before.”
“I’ll get it.” Darcy retrieved the letter and read it again. “So, this guy knows where you live. That’s not hard to figure out. Lexington is a small town. He knows your neighbor, Mrs. Charleston, and her dog, Peaches.”
Ginny grabbed the letter from Darcy. “He knows you put cookies in your mailbox for your mail carrier. Come on, it has to be Max.”
“Max isn’t my mail carrier, though. Jenny somebody-or-other delivers my mail. I can never remember her last name. Something with a g and an r and an n.”
“Jenny Granadosin?” Ginny asked.
“Yes. How did you know that?”
“We take a Yoga class together at the YWCA. She mentioned that she works for the Post Office. She might have told Max about the cookies.”
“Doubtful. No, I think we can scratch Max off the list.”
“I thought we weren’t scratching anyone off, remember? At least not until we watch the two of you together,” Darcy said.
“Okay. Not to change the subject or anything, but have you seen Carl lately, Darcy?”
“No. He hasn’t been in for a couple days. You think something’s wrong?”
“We can usually set a watch by his arrival every day. I’m concerned. I was going to head over to the VFW Hall this afternoon, but things are quiet now, so I think I’ll just go.”
“We’ll take care of things here,” Ginny said.
“Do you want me to call the hospital?” Darcy asked.
“That would be good. Thank you.”
“Let me call before you head out. You may need to change your plans.”
Darcy called Lexington Mercy Hospital and found out that Carl Jacobsen had been admitted several days ago with chest pain. He was currently in the Intensive Care Unit. She relayed this information to Andrea and Ginny.
“That’s what I was afraid of. I’m going to visit him in ICU. Do you want to sign a card for him?”
Ginny and Darcy nodded their heads.
“I’ve got a few cards in my desk. I’ll pick one out and you guys can sign it.” Andrea found a humorous card she thought Carl would like and wrote a brief get well message and signed it, then handed it on to Darcy and Ginny.
“Give him hugs from us,” Ginny said.
“I will.” Andrea left Revive and headed to the parking lot behind the coffee shop. Her sixteen-year-old gold Toyota Corolla was waiting for her like an old friend. When she opened the door, heat waves escaped and she quickly put her key in the ignition and pushed the power window button to let the hot air escape and allow the cool air to enter.
Max had said it was going to be in the low seventies, but it felt more like the high eighties.
It was only a fifteen minute drive to the hospital.
“Hi, Andrea,” Emily Montgomery said as she entered the hospital’s main entrance.
“Hi, Em. I’m here to see Carl Jacobsen. He’s in ICU.”
“Oh, sure. I spoke with Darcy just a little while ago. You can go on up. Just put this stick-on visitor badge on your shirt.” Emily wrote Andrea’s name on the badge and then Carl’s name followed by ICU. “Have to follow protocol, you know.”
“Thanks, Em.”
When she reached ICU, with its eight private beds, she checked in at the nurse’s station and was given the okay to see Carl. His wife, Judy, was sitting beside him as he slept.
“Andrea, how kind of you to come.” Judy stood up and hugged Andrea.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. It took us a day or two to realize we hadn’t seen Carl around. He’s usually so punctual and keeps to a regular schedule.”
“That he does. Please, sit down.” Both women sat in chairs close to one another. “He’s doing well, but he was having severe chest pains so they thought they better watch him carefully.”
“Do they know what’s wrong?”
“He’s had Angina for quite some time, but the surgery is risky. We’re old, you know.”
“You’re both very young in spirit.”
“You’re a dear, but we are in our early nineties. I guess it’s time for body parts to start wearing thin.”
They talked for about ten minutes and then Andrea gave Judy the card they had all signed, gave her another hug, and then left the hospital, making sure to say goodbye to Emily on her way out.
That was one of the things Andrea hadn’t anticipated about owning a coffee shop; getting attached to the customers. Carl was like her grandfather. Judy didn’t come in nearly as often, but she had aged with grace and never had a bad word to say about anyone.
Andrea stopped by her favorite Chinese restaurant and grabbed take-out, then headed back to Revive. The lunch crowd would be arriving in about half an hour, so they’d have time to eat first.
“Ooh, Chinese!” Darcy said with enthusiasm when she saw the take-out bags.
Ginny gathered plates and utensils and everyone’s favorite beverages and they spread their feast out on the table in the back room.
“Carl’s in ICU. Judy’s with him. He was having chest pains. They’re keeping him for observation.”
“Poor guy,” Ginny said.
“Poor Judy,” Darcy said. “It’s hard to be the one taking care of someone who isn’t well, especially when you’re older.”
“Did you know they were in their early nineties?” Andrea asked.
“They sure don’t look it,” Ginny said.
“I would have guessed high seventies or low eighties,” Darcy said.
“How old was your dad when he had his heart problems?” Ginny asked Darcy.
“Late seventies. He had heart trouble for a long time, though. Blocked arteries all over the place and blood clots.”
“You took such good care of him,” Andrea said.
“I didn’t really know what else to do. Mom and dad separated long before that and she certainly wasn’t going to come back and take care of him. I just did what I needed to do.”
“Not everyone would have done that, though,” Ginny said.
The bells jingled on the front door. “You two eat, I’ll take care of it,” Andrea said as she headed for the counter. “Welcome to Revive. How may I help you?”
The rest of the day proved to be busier than usual with a few lulls thrown in for good measure.
After Andrea closed up shop for the night, she walked to the end of the boardwalk to watch the sunset. It was stunning in hues of fiery orange, mellow crimson, and burnt cream. She listened intently for the sound of the sun hitting the water. Her mother always told her if she was really quiet, she would be able to hear the sizzle of heat meeting cold.
It was an illusion, of course. The sun didn’t really slip into the ocean, it just appeared that way. Still, it was a lovely thing to imagine.
“Long day?” Charles Duncan asked as he joined her at the railing.
“Hey, Charles. Busy day, but good. You?”
“Definitely. Tuesdays are usually slow for us at the restaurant, but we were busy today.”
“Busy equals money.”
“That’s the good news,” Charles paused. “You’re looking especially lovely this evening.”
“Thank you. That’s nice of you to say.”
Charles Duncan’s name was on the list they made earlier of possible love letter writers. As Andrea looked at him now, she thought he seemed to have a special glint in his eye. She had always liked the way his lips curled up at the corners just slightly; it made him look like he was about ready to get into mischief.
“What?”
“Sorry, I was just… nothing.” Andrea turned her gaze toward the sunset. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It certainly is.” Charles’ gaze never left Andrea’s face.
Andrea could feel him staring at her. What if it was Charles? She looked in his eyes again. “Do you like our new technology? I mean, Facebook, e-mail, iPhones, iPads, and all that?”
“Sure. It means I can stay in touch with people a lot easier.”
“Yes, but don’t you think we miss out on some of the personal touches we used to have? For instance, letter writing. I used to always write letters and looked forward to receiving letters in the mail. That hardly ever happens now.”
“I don’t think I’ve received a handwritten letter in years.”
“That’s what I mean. Wouldn’t it be nice to receive something so personal?”
Charles smiled. “Why don’t you send me a letter?”
“Would you like that?”
“Yes.”
“Then I will. I’ll write you a letter tonight, but you have to write me back.”
“I promise.”
They watched the sunset a while longer and then Charles offered to walk Andrea to her car. She accepted, lacing her arm through Charles’ arm. A comfortable silence settled between them and Andrea thought Charles Duncan might just be her secret admirer. The thought made her smile.
Chapter Four
Andrea stopped by the grocery store on her way home, picking up a pre-made chef salad and a six-pack of Diet Peach Snapple, as well as a few other items. She didn’t like cooking on nights she closed Revive. It was a fair trade, though, since Ginny covered her early shift that morning.
She retrieved the mail from her mailbox and placed it in one of her grocery bags and headed toward the porch.
“Peaches!” Georgina Charleston yelled from her driveway as the Pomeranian made a beeline toward Andrea.
“I see her, Georgina.” Andrea sat her bags on the porch and picked the dog up, holding her close as she headed toward Mrs. Charleston. “She’s a fast one.”
“She certainly is. Sorry about that, Andrea. I just opened the gate for a minute to get my mail.”
“Your mama worries about you when you get loose, Miss Peaches,” Andrea said, handing the dog to Georgina.
“She never goes far, but I worry about her getting run over by a car or getting into a fight with old man Johnson’s Pom.”
“Doggy rivalry?”
“At its worst. Peaches won first place at the last dog show. Carlita came in second. You would have thought I cut old man Johnson’s heart out and ate it in front of him for the way he behaved!”
“Well, Peaches is safe now.”
“Thanks to you, dear. Come over sometime and I’ll show you the dog show pictures.”
“I’ll do that. Have a good evening.” Andrea turned and walked back to her front porch. No way was she going to spend an hour looking at pictures of Peaches from every angle imaginable. She had more important things to do, namely writing a letter to one Mr. Charles Duncan.
She picked up her bags and headed into the house. Andrea put items away in the kitchen and then took her salad, drink and mail to the library. Once there, she kicked off her shoes and curled up in her favorite chair, placing the mail next to her on the side table.
Andrea removed the salad dressing packet and tore it open with her teeth, then squeezed out a tablespoon of the ranch dressing. Her friends teased her about using so little, but she didn’t like to drown her salad like Darcy always did.
As she ate, she thought about what she should say in her letter to Charles. It had been ages since she’d written a letter. She was used to quickly sending e-mails. Writing words on paper seemed to give them more weight and significance. She didn’t even think she owned a piece of stationery.
When Charles wrote back, she’d know for sure if he was her love letter writer. All she had to do was compare the handwriting.
After she finished eating, she retrieved a piece of paper from her printer and cut it in half. That was the best she could do. Well, maybe not the best. She searched through her desk drawer for colored pencils. They were shoved far in the back of her second drawer.
Andrea drew a vine down one side of the paper in hunter green, then added leaves, shading them in with a lighter green. She didn’t want to make it too feminine, just feminine enough. She added a dark brown line that laced around the vine, adding curls to the end resembling those found among grapevine leaves.
Satisfied that she had captured at least a semblance of what she was trying to create, Andrea began to pen her letter.
Dear Charles,
I enjoyed watching the sunset tonight with you. Thank you for walking me to my car. Sometimes I think the days of chivalry are dead, but it was nice to have someone to feel safe with.
“Oh, dear,” Andrea said. “That sounds much too needy and clingy. Maybe I should have drafted the darn thing first.” She didn’t want to recreate the drawing, so decided to forge ahead.
What I mean is, it felt good to be with someone I trusted.
“Oh my gosh! It’s getting worse!” Andrea crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the nearby wicker trash basket. “Think, Bonner, think.”
Andrea stood up and began to walk around the library. No words were coming to her that didn’t sound like something a high school girl with a crush would write. She picked up her cell phone and called Ginny.
“The Biggest Loser is on, this better be good.”
“Sorry, Gin. I need your advice on a letter I’m writing. Do you have a minute?”
“I’ll call you back during the commercial. Who are you writing a letter to?”
“Charles Duncan. He may be my secret love letter writer.”
“How do you know that?”
“I ran into him tonight and we got to talking. He walked me to my car. Long story short, I told him I’d write him a letter and he said he’d write me back. If he does, I’ll be able to compare the handwriting.”
“Clever girl,” Ginny said, then paused. “Make it simple, light. Thank him for walking you to your car and tell him you enjoyed your time together. Then suggest he come by Revive sometime and you’ll give him a free cup of coffee.”
“That’s it? Shouldn’t it be longer? Shouldn’t I say more?”
“Definitely not. All you really want is to see his handwriting, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then don’t go overboard. You’ll come across as clingy and needy.”
“Been there, done that.”
“How many drafts have you written?”
“Just one. I messed up my stationery, though.”
“You have stationery?”
“I made some. Just a vine with leaves, nothing cutesy or romantic.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Hey, you’re missing your show.”
“Yeah, I know. What if it is Charles?”
“I could do a lot worse.”
“I think it’s incredibly romantic.”
“Go watch your show, and thank you.”
“Any time, except when I’m watching…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. You need to give me the long list of shows you watch. I’ll see you tomorrow at five-thirty.”
“See you then.”
Andrea sat back down at her desk. This time she would write her letter first, then draw her vine design.
Dear Charles,
I really enjoyed watching the sunset with you tonight. Thanks, again, for walking me to my car.
I hope you’ll stop by Revive for a cup of coffee; on the house, of course. I’d really like to spend some time catching up. It’s been a while since we’ve spent time together.
See you soon,
Andrea
“There. That was appropriately light and simple.” She redrew the vines, leaves and swirly brown line. It wasn’t as good as the first drawing she made, but it would have to do.
She placed the letter in an envelope and put a return address label in the corner, then went to the internet to look up the address of the restaurant. She didn’t know Charles’ home address, so she would send it to his work address. She placed the envelope in her bag so she wouldn’t forget to mail it the next day.
The wind had picked up. She could hear it wrapping itself around her home as the ocean called to her. It would be cold now that the sun had tucked itself in for the night. She grabbed a quilt off the rocking chair in the corner and placed it around her body as she headed out the sliding glass door.
The sea was churning feverishly and the sky was dark. A storm was heading their way. As a kid, Andrea loved sitting on the balcony on the second level of the house snuggled up tightly in her grandmother’s quilt. The overhang protected her from the rain and wind while allowing her to watch the sky and sea.
Now when it stormed, she liked to be at the ocean’s edge, becoming part of the powerful experience.
The sand was cold and gritty beneath her toes as she headed toward the water. A clap of thunder barreled across the sky, followed by a flash of lightning in the distance. The clouds were billowy in shades of midnight blue and pitch black.
“Ominous,” she mumbled. That’s what her father would call them.
She felt the first raindrop on her cheek. It was small and cool and wet. It made her feel alive, even as a chill ran down her spine. She sighed as she turned and made her way back to the porch. By the time she reached it, rain was falling steadily.
She returned the quilt to the arm of the rocking chair and watched through the window as the rain picked up speed, coming down in pummeling droves. Lightning flashed again, this time much closer, and thunder replied angrily.
Andrea touched her open palm to the glass and thought how much she wished someone was there to share the moment with her. Would Charles Duncan appreciate such a moment? Would he think she was silly for standing at the ocean’s edge during a storm?
She retrieved the love letter from her purse and read it again. Whoever it was, he would understand. He was thoughtful, caring, kind, and he seemed to understand her. So, how could she not know who he was? How could this man know her so well if she did not know him?
Andrea went over the list they had made earlier in her head. There wasn’t one name on the list that she could honestly say was someone who really knew her.
Then again, that wasn’t their fault. Andrea wasn’t one to open up easily to men. It took her a while to trust, and even longer to be intimate with a man. In her twenty-nine years, she had only had sex with two men. Even then, it had taken over six months before she was willing to take the next step toward physical expression.
Roger was her first love. They met in high school. Andrea knew he was the one. They were together for three magical years. Everything was perfect. He hadn’t hassled her about sex and she imagined a future with him; house, kids, family dog, white picket fence, the whole dream.
When she walked in on him having sex with her best friend, Angela Barton, it had felt like a sucker punch to the gut. She just stood there staring at them, unable to comprehend the situation.
Roger had apologized, of course, but when Andrea found out he had been having sex with Angela the entire time they were together, she was crushed. Her perfect little dream shattered to bits.
For a while she thought it was her fault for not being more sexually active with Roger, but that only held water for so long. He cheated and there was just no excuse good enough. Not in her eyes, anyway.
David Engle was her second love. They stayed together for just over a year. In hindsight, Andrea thought her time with David was more about proving to herself that she could be in a successful relationship.
She loved David and he loved her, but there were no fireworks. She wanted fireworks, tingling touches and kisses that made her lose her breath. Was that too much to ask for?
Andrea headed up the stairs to her bedroom, then sat in the window seat with her comforter around her and watched the sky and sea.
Her love letter writer would give her fireworks, she just knew it. And, if for some reason he didn’t, then it wasn’t meant to be. She was not going to settle for less.
She had the house and the white picket fence. All she needed was a man who loved her and a dog. The dog would be easy. The man, not so much.
Chapter Five
It was just past two o’clock when the three women had a chance to breathe.
“What a day!” Darcy said.
“I don’t think I’ve even had a chance to go pee all day,” Ginny said.
“You’d better go now before the next bunch of customers comes in,” Andrea said.
“Good idea.” Ginny headed for the staff restroom at the back of the coffee shop.
“You said we needed more sales,” Darcy said, as Jim Watson came through the door.
“That I did. I just can’t imagine what made us so busy in the middle of the week.”
“I can tell you why you’re so busy,” Jim said.
“Hey, Jim. You have some secret knowledge to tell us?” Andrea asked.
“What’s it worth to you?”
“Name your price.”
Jim rubbed his chin and took an extraordinarily long time to ponder his options. “Have you had lunch yet?”
“Haven’t had time.”
“I’ll share my information if you have lunch with me. We can take a couple sandwiches and some salad and go to the park by the pier.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“What about me?” Darcy asked.
Jim hesitated, then said, “You’re welcome to come, too.”
“Nah, you guys go ahead. I can’t leave Ginny here alone. We may get more customers. We’ve been swamped all day. You’d think it was a weekend.”
“What kind of sandwich would you like, Jim?” Andrea asked.
“Do you have any tuna?”
“Sure do. You want a green salad or a macaroni salad?”
“Macaroni.”
“Drink?”
“Coffee. Strong and black.”
“I’ll get the coffee,” Darcy offered.
Andrea gathered up their picnic lunch, grabbed a Diet Peach Snapple and some napkins and forks and they were set.
“Where are you going?” Ginny asked when she returned to the counter.
“She’s having lunch with Jim,” Darcy informed her.
“Must be nice to be the boss, you just take off whenever you like,” Ginny teased.
Andrea rolled her eyes and said, “Later. You two be nice to the customers.”
“Why start now?” Darcy hollered.
“I can’t believe how hot it is today. Did you see the storm last night?” Andrea asked.
“See it? No. I heard it, though. I could barely sleep through it. I was hanging out at my brother’s trailer last night.”
“Didn’t your brother just break up with his girlfriend?”
“Yeah. He’s pretty broken up about it, too.”
“It was nice of you to spend time with him.”
“He’d do the same for me.”
“Still, a lot of brothers and sisters don’t get along that well.”
“Our family has always been close. Anyway, the rain was hitting the trailer so hard I swear it was going to tear a hole right through the roof.”
“I watched the storm for quite a while. The waves were rolling and the beach took hit after hit. It was amazing.”
“I can’t imagine you living anywhere other than the beach.”
“Me either.”
They reached Waterstone Park and sat their food and drinks on one of the picnic tables. Two dogs were fighting over a frisbee being thrown by two young boys and an older couple were walking hand-in-hand wearing matching vests. Everyone else seemed to be up on the boardwalk.
Two sailboats could be seen on the horizon and Andrea longed to be on one of them.
Jim followed her gaze. “You like to sail?”
“Yes. As a kid I pestered my dad relentlessly to take us out on his boats; he had several, one was a sailboat. It was my favorite. When the wind hits the sails and you feel nature’s power. Well, there’s nothing quite like it.
Andrea handed Jim his sandwich and salad and they began to eat.
“So, what is this secret information you possess?”
The corners of Jim’s mouth turned up. “It’s not such a huge secret or anything. The other two coffee shops on the boardwalk had plumbing problems and had to close their doors.”
“What kind of problems?”
“I’m not sure exactly, but when they renovated the shops several years back, the contractors took a few shortcuts. I guess one of them had to do with the plumbing. Not all the shops were affected, but the five shops right in the middle were. Two of those were coffee shops.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I mean, I’m glad for our increase in sales, but not at someone else’s expense. Do you think it will get fixed soon?”
“Should be fixed in a couple days.”
“How’d you find all this out?”
“My brother works for the city. He gives me all the inside scoop. Want to hear some really interesting gossip?”
“Of course,” Andrea said, leaning closer.
“Mayor Bradley won’t be running for re-election.”
“Are you serious? I thought he already threw his hat in the ring.”
“He did, but Mrs. Bradley picked it up and put it back on his head.”
“Why?”
“Turns out he’s been spending a bit too much time at the office with his new secretary.”
“Ew! Okay, no more gossip. I really don’t want to hear about the sexual exploits of the mayor.”
“Whose sexual exploits would you like to hear about?”
“How about yours?”
Jim almost choked on his sandwich.
“That good, huh?”
He took a sip of coffee.
“Things have been a bit slow in that department lately.”
“I thought you were seeing Jeannie Willoughby?”
“I was, but it didn’t work out.”
“Sorry.”
“What are you going to do? The fire is either there or it’s not.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about the fire lately. I don’t want to settle for less, you know?”
“I know,” Jim paused. “So, what constitutes fire for you?”
“That tingle you get when you touch someone’s hand. The breathlessness from an unexpected kiss; the whole world seems to fade away. When all you want to do is stare into someone’s eyes forever.”
“You’re a romantic.”
“Guilty.”
“Don’t tell anyone, but I am, too.”
“Okay, so what does fire mean to you?”
“The same things you said.”
“No, you’re not getting away with that. Spill it, Watson. I want details.”
“I want the ache when you leave someone’s doorstep after a date and you can’t wait to see them again. You want to rush back to their side and pick them up and twirl them around. When they put their arms around your neck and then look into your eyes with an invitation.”
Andrea stopped breathing involuntarily.
She imagined herself in Jim’s arms on her front porch. She wanted to be picked up and twirled around. She’d give him a look of invitation.
She finally inhaled.
“Corny, huh?” Jim said.
“Fabulously corny,” Andrea said, putting her hand on Jim’s arm. “I have never heard a man say what you just said. Did you really mean it?”
“You think I’d say something like that and not mean it? Hell, if anyone overheard me, I’d be disbarred from the He-Man Woman Hater’s Club.”
“Without a doubt.”
Jim turned his arm over and clasped Andrea’s hand in his. She felt her stomach flutter with butterfly wings. Jim Watson was coming on to her.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” Jim asked.
“I don’t have anything planned. What did you have in mind?”
“Dinner and a movie or dinner and a walk on the beach?”
“How about dinner and a movie and a walk on the beach?”
“You want it all?”
“I want it all.”
Jim brought Andrea’s hand to his lips and kissed her gently. “Then you shall have it all. Seven o’clock?”
“Perfect.”
“I’ll pick you up at your house.”
“Sounds good.”
They finished the last few bites of lunch and Jim walked Andrea back to the coffee shop. The line was almost at the door, making it hard to enter.
“Looks like I got you back here just in time,” Jim said.
“I think so. Thanks, again, for lunch. I’ll see you tomorrow at seven o’clock.”
“I’m looking forward to it. Don’t let Ginny and Darcy work you too hard.”
Jim turned and headed toward his car. Andrea watched him walk away. She had a date with Jim Watson. She had not seen that one coming.
Andrea opened the door and squeezed past the customers. “Excuse me.” She threw their lunch trash away and washed her hands, then put on an apron and joined Darcy and Ginny at the counter.
“I can help the next person in line.”
“That’s me, I think,” a middle-aged woman said as she came forward.
“Welcome to Revive.”
The afternoon saw a constant stream of customers at the counter as the three women tried to fill orders and clear tables so their guests would have a place to sit.
At closing time, it was Darcy who locked the front door and said, “Hallelujah! That’s over!” She kicked off her shoes and sat down in one of the chairs and put her feet up on a neighboring chair.
“If we have another day like that, you have to give me a raise,” Ginny said to Andrea.
“If we have another day like that, I can afford to give you a raise.”
“Why were we so busy today?” Darcy asked.
“Jim Watson said it was because the other two coffee shops on the boardwalk had plumbing issues.”
“I’m so glad you decided not to lease a shop on the boardwalk. I think you’ve done much better and you don’t have to pay so much overhead,” Darcy said.
“I agree,” Ginny said. “Plus, the people on the boardwalk are such snobs. They act like they are so much better because they are On The Boardwalk. Well, they pay a pretty penny for that distinction and the customer doesn’t get any more bang for their buck than they do at any other shop.”
“Preach it, sister!” Darcy said.
“Andrea, can I leave early tomorrow? John Carlson came by while you were out with Jim and asked me out for dinner.”
“Um… well, what time?”
“Is there a problem?”
“Not really, it’s just that Jim asked me out on a date tomorrow night.”
“I’ll cover for both of you,” Darcy said. “But, you owe me. Both of you,” she looked from one of them to the other.
“What will our payment be?” Ginny asked, never knowing what Darcy’s idea of owing her would be.
“For you, Miss Ginny, I get to borrow your new boots. Wait, before you object, I want to borrow them on Valentine’s Day. That’s over a month away.”
“You don’t even have a date for Valentine’s Day.”
“I will if I know I get to wear your boots.”
“Okay. Deal.”
“What’s in store for me?” Andrea asked.
“Your black dress. You know the one. It’s form fitting and has those thin straps with the perfect amount of plunging neckline without making you look like a prostitute.”
“You got it. When?”
“Also on Valentine’s Day.”
“This has got to be some hot date you’re planning for Valentine’s Day. Any idea who the guy is going to be?”
“Not yet, but I’m working on it.”
“Andrea, do you think Jim might be your love letter writer?” Ginny asked.
“It never occurred to me. It could be him, though. He said some really romantic things today that made me see him in a new light. And, he kissed my hand.”
“Spill!” Ginny said.