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PREFACE
Philippe grinned widely. "Now, that's more like it. For a moment there, I thought we were just going to talk." His men spread out in front of him, inching forward. There were nine in all – 4 of whom I recognized from our mission briefing – Felix, Elliot, Trent and Theodore. Behind the straight line of men, Philippe and Caius stood like Caesars watching an exhibition.
Hawkins and Emmett started calling out adversaries under their breath. Edward whispered something to Bella I didn't catch. I took Coraline's hand, and squeezed it tightly, while I scanned the minds of the nine for weaknesses. If Elliot was anywhere as strong as he was made out to be, we would need to reduce their numbers in a hurry.
"That Bella Cullen trick is a nice one," Philippe taunted, as the two groups hovered in an eerie standoff, like boxers waiting for the opening bell. "The thing is, though... it doesn't work if she's dead." The joking expression slid off his face like water, replaced by a stoic glare as he addressed his men.
"Kill her."
1. REPLY
My Dearest Coraline,
I cannot even begin to tell you how utterly thrilled I am to hear from you! There are so many things I want to say and ask ñ I donít even know where to begin.
How are you? Are you well? Safe? Are they treating you well in Volterra?
Sorry for all the questions, Iím just a little (no, a lot) excited.
Regarding my life here in Montana, itís going as well as I could ask for. Iím actually living here with my brother, Harvey, and his wife, Lucy. They are now vampires, which is a long story in itself. Iíll have to fill you in on it sometime. As youíre already aware, weíre living in Whitefish, trying to keep to a normal, civilian lifestyle, not unlike the one we used to share in Malmedy.
I must admit, I think of those days often. They were easily the happiest moments of my entire life. I would give anything to be able to go back there.
Regarding my safety, I can assure you that Iím safe and well. Hopefully, Wesley was able to explain to you what happened with the assassination attempt on me several years ago. Ever since we foiled that plan, I have been living free and clear. I can only assume that our cover story worked, and that the Volturi presumed me to be dead.
Speaking of Wesley, was he ever able to explain anything to you at all? I sent my forwarding address with him, in hopes that you would be able to contact me there, but obviously, you never got it. Please donít misunderstand ñ Iím happy you reached me here in Montana, Iím just concerned for Wesleyís well-being. Is he alright? What about Harriet? Are you still in contact with them? It would do my spirits well to hear that theyíre okay.
Oh, Coraline... I miss you so dearly. I think about you constantly. Constantly. Not a day goes by that I donít wish you could be here, or that I could come there. I know neither of those are in any way possible, but I wish it nonetheless. I am so truly, deeply sorry that it took so long to get in touch with you. Had I known you didnít have my contact information from Wesley, I would have tried another way to reach you.
Coraline, my feelings for you have not changed in the years weíve been apart. There is absolutely nothing that could ever change them. I am yours, now and forever, and I would be thrilled beyond belief to be able to write you on a regular basis
(if thatís something you would be interested in). Please feel free to write me any time. I can assure you, I will be checking my mailbox religiously awaiting your reply.
Yours in body, mind and soul,
-Grant
I could hardly contain my excitement as I folded the letter and went to place it in an envelope.
And, of course, we didn't have any envelopes in the house.
I was a quarter-mile toward the post office before I remembered that I was on foot, and humans aren't supposed to travel at sixty miles-per-hour. Normally, I would have been a little frustrated with myself for being so absent-minded, but there was no room in my emotional repository for frustration.
All I could feel was elation.
I reached the post office, tires squealing, at 6:26am, four minutes before the building was opened to the public. After a little frantic tapping on the window, someone let me in, and I went right to work. I neatly tucked my letter into a crisp new envelope, and had it addressed and stamped in under sixty seconds. The young woman at the postal service counter looked at me like I was a lunatic, and in her defense, I probably looked the part. She didn't understand, though. I had been sitting idly, doing nothing to get in touch with Coraline for three years.
I was done waiting.
I stayed to watch the mail truck drive away (yes, I know. Pathetic. The things we do in the name of love...), and headed back home, feeling higher than I had been in years. It was the beginning of a very good day.
Harvey and Lucy were at home when I arrived, and I couldn't wait to share my news with them. I saw Lucy first – she was seated at the kitchen table, reading a magazine when I burst onto the scene, radiating happiness.
"Lucy! The most splendid thing happened to me today!" I said jubilantly, as I leaned in through the open walkway to the kitchen.
"What?" She said, instantly excited.
"I received a letter. From Coraline."
"What? Seriously?"
I pulled out the hand-written note as proof.
"Seriously."
"That's... wonderful! I didn't even know you were going to Billings today."
"No, Lucy, not in Billings. It came here, to the house. Isn't that something? It caught me completely by surprise."
"Wow. What a wonderful surprise, huh? So... what did she say?"
"Well, for starters-"
"Did you just say you got the letter here?" Harvey interrupted, stepping into the room from the other entrance.
"Yes... it came here. Addressed to 'Grant Willoughby.'" I answered, a little disappointed by his lackluster response.
"And that didn't seem in the least bit suspicious to you?"
"No, not really. It was from Coraline – I recognize the handwriting."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, I'm sure."
At least, I think I am...
"Grant, did it ever cross your mind that someone else might have sent that – someone who's trying to get to you?"
"No. Honestly, Harv... do you have to be such a kill-joy?"
"Listen to yourself, Grant. When am I ever a kill-joy? I'm just saying... if Coraline wanted to write to you, why wouldn't she write to the address in New Hampshire?"
"I don't know, Harvey – maybe she never got the directions. It doesn't really matter."
"Uh, yeah... it does."
"Well, maybe she'll tell me when she writes back."
"What do you mean... you didn't reply, did you?"
"Of course I did! Why wouldn't I?"
"For the love of God, Grant! Are you trying to get yourself killed? We're out here hiding. I thought you understood that better than anyone."
"I do, Harvey, I do. Sorry it bothers you, but you've got to trust me. I'm not going to put the family in danger."
"You already have."
"Harvey..."
He turned to leave, storming off as I called to him. I sighed. That was just Harvey. I'd' give him some time to cool down, and we'd talk it out.
Lucy shrugged her shoulders with a hesitant smile as we listened to Harvey's motorcycle engine roar to life and race down the driveway.
"Well... I'm happy for you," she said sheepishly.
"Thanks. That... helps."
I shouldn't have been surprised at Harvey's reaction. After all, he had been strongly opposed to the idea of giving Coraline contact information to begin with. Normally, my brother was a pretty easy-going guy, but he did have the tendency to become intense at times, especially when it concerned the safety of those he loved. I could understand where he was coming from; if the tables were turned, and I felt Coraline's safety were put at risk, I would be concerned as well. I just wished he could give me the benefit of the doubt.
A passing argument with my brother wasn't enough to dampen my spirits, and my elation carried me all the way through the daylight hours and into my next work shift at the mortuary. Normally, I'm fairly far removed from anything resembling "cheerful" or "bubbly," so when I came to work with a bounce in my step, whistling the tune to My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean, my boss knew something was amiss – or, rather, quite right – with me.
Wally was a man of few words. Those he spoke, though, carried weight. At least, to me, they did. He eyed me with curiosity as I strolled into the preparation room, raising one eyebrow slightly as he continued working on the cadaver in front of him.
"Dear lord, Grant," he finally said, breaking the slightly awkward silence with his sharp Boston-American accent. "What in the blue blazes has gotten into you?"
"Ahh... just a bit of good news," I replied with a sigh.
"Really? And would this news have anything to do with a young lady?"
His assumption caught me by surprise. Is it really that obvious? Wally had always been a little too perceptive for his own good – I often suspected he understood more about me than he should have.
"As a matter of fact... it does have something to do with a young lass," I answered, losing the battle with the relentless smile that broke out on my face. "How did you know?"
"Oh, when you know people like I do, it's not that hard to tell. So... spill the beans. You've worked for me for two and a half years, and you've never so much as mentioned a girl..."
I debated the risk of telling him the truth, and decided a little honesty wouldn't hurt. After all, who was he going to tell? Outside of the paper delivery boy, I was the only person he ever really talked to.
"There was a girl I knew back in Europe, during the war... she and I had... well, I suppose you could say we almost had something special back then. I lost track of her years ago, didn't even know if she was still alive, and then yesterday, I received a letter from her, out of the blue. It's probably the best news I've received in quite some time."
"High school sweethearts, eh? Well, I'd say that is good news. Good for you, Grant. So, d'ya write her back?"
"Of course! I was waiting at the post office for it to open, so I could send a letter back."
"Hmph! Young love..." he chuckled, a twinkle lighting in his eye. "So, I take it you're pretty sweet on her..."
"Yes sir, very much so."
"Next thing I know, you're gonna be asking for more time off, so you can go see her, huh?"
"Oh, no... probably not. She's living in Italy now."
"Oh, I see. Well, that's a far stretch. I tried that once, ya know?"
"Tried what?"
"Courting a girl long-distance. It's not easy."
"No, certainly not. How did it work out for you?"
"Pretty well, I'd say. We were married for forty-two years."
"Oh, my... I never knew that. So, you and May..."
"Oh yeah, we were long-distance at first. Well, not actually first, but... ya know. I was twenty-five, living in Boston, selling shoes, when all of a sudden, outta nowhere – boom! This dame comes strolling down the street, walking her dog. Ugh! She was so beautiful, like an angel, straight off a stained glass window. She was seventeen at the time, came over to spend the summer with her aunt, who happened to be my next-door neighbor."
"Wow. What a coincidence."
"No, no... there are no coincidences when it comes to love," he continued, shaking his finger at me with smiling eyes. "We were meant to find each other. We spent every day together for six weeks before she had to go back home, and so, naturally, we started writing each other."
"How romantic. So, how long did that go on?"
"About three more weeks."
"Oh..."
"Aww, it was horrible. God-awful stuff. After the second letter, I just told her, 'sweetheart, this is ridiculous. Either we're getting married, or we're splitting up, 'cause I'm not cut out for this long-distance garbage.'"
"And... she married you?"
"Yeah. And here, I thought she was real bright." He chuckled again. It was nice to see him with some life in him.
"Did she move to Boston, then?"
"Well, no – why do you think I live in Montana?"
"Oh. You moved here for her?"
"Didn't have much of a choice in the matter. She was something of a homebody, and still young. Besides that, it was the only way her father would go along with it. So, I packed up everything I cared about in two suitcases, and got on the train headed west. Never looked back."
"That's amazing. So, you really didn't mind leaving the city for... this?"
"Are you kidding? I would have lived on the moon if I had to in order to be with her. Once I knew she was 'the one,' I just couldn't be away from her. That's how I am. Not saying you're wrong for doing your little 'pen-pal' routine – that's great. It just wasn't for me. I'm willing to bet, though... nah, I shouldn't say that."
"Say what? C'mon, now, you've gone and got my interest up. You'd be willing to bet what?"
He leaned in across the table, that glint still in his eyes.
"Give it a few weeks, a few months, whatever – you'll go to her. Or she'll come here. That is, if it's meant to be. But from the look of things, you're already hooked on this one, eh?"
"Yes, I... I suppose I am."
"Well, then, have fun. Don't take one single moment for granted."
"I won't."
"Good. Now, hurry up and help me with this embalming. I'm talking all our profits away."
I tried my best to concentrate on my work for the rest of the day, but it was hard thinking about anything but Coraline. I gave a large deal of consideration to what Wally had to say. A long-distance relationship would surely be a hardship, but at this point, I would endure just about anything in order to be in contact with Coraline again. I only hoped I would have the emotional stamina to stay disciplined. Unlike Wally, I couldn't just pack up my things and go to her. Not yet, at least.
The days went by more slowly than ever, as I waited for Coraline's reply. A small part of me actually began to fear that she had chosen not to respond after all, especially after a full month had passed with no word from her. Eventually, though, I received that letter I had been waiting for. Six weeks to the day after I had written her, I received her response in my mailbox, and once again, the giddy euphoria filled my heart as I opened it to read.
She wanted to continue writing.
Our long-distance relationship was officially underway.
