2. Dear Aunt Tabbie

Pretty self explanatory. Tabitha Clearwater is Leah's Great-Great Aunt, born in the same generation as Ephraim Black.

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Dear Aunt Tabbie,

I'm sorry I haven't written in so long and a very, very happy 98th birthday to you!

Before I tell you what's up here, I need to let you know that you've caused quite a stir – everybody's still talking about how great you look and how well you're doing. They say crap like how you're in your 90's and still walking without a cane or (gack!) a walker, like you're some old lady or something! Hahaha! I've got your back – I tell them all that MY Aunt T wouldn't be using a cane unless she was beating someone's ass with it! They talk about how it's all that "clean living" you've done. Boy, you've got them all fooled don't you? I won't say a word, but we both know that it's the "dirty living" that keeps you young! Your secret is safe with me! Hehehe! Just thought you'd want to know.

Seriously though, now that neither of us are spinsters (WOW! Ever notice how "spinster" and "sinister" look an awful lot alike? Coincidence? I think not!) Anyway, now that we're both not spinsters, is it ok to say I'm relieved? Back when you were 80-something and I was a teenager, I really thought someday that would be me or, I would be you... Whatever, I'd be the beloved spinster aunt. A very beautiful, very cool spinster aunt, but still... I was so happy to hear about Jack! Then hearing about Jack being 32 years younger and then seeing how absolutely gorgeous and happy you were in the wedding pictures – You gave me hope. Sometimes I wonder if you and that little piece of hope, didn't help me find my soul mate.

Is it impolite to say THANK GOD I DIDN'T HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL I WAS 86 to find love? I still don't know how you hung on since I was already half crazy by the time I was 21, but I'm glad I don't have to wait that long and you're still my hero! If I forgot to tell you before, THANKS!

Did they tell you about Masen? I mean, of course they told you about Masen, but did they really tell you about Masen? Like how we met and all that?

It doesn't matter. It's better when I tell it anyway.

So... I'd just got back from finishing my residency (I guess I owe you another apology for not writing during that time either. I'm so sorry. Its not excuse but it was crazy busy and there wasn't anything that interesting to tell. The letters would have been like – Worked. Tried to sleep. Went back to work. Love, Leah – With maybe some cussing in between. No fun.) So, I was finally back in LaPush and Jacob and his wife, Ren (who isn't as bad as I thought, but I'll tell you about that some other time) had invited me over for a big welcome home dinner with some friends. Ren was trying really hard to impress me so I'd like her, so she was making this big production out of dinner – She even told Jacob to keep me out of the kitchen. (Like, at that point, I really wanted to purposely be anywhere alone with her, much less cooking in her kitchen! But, again, I'll tell you that story next time). So, I'm sitting there with Jacob and his old fart flame Bella (who I've found out really not so bad either... next letter will be huge I guess) just minding my own business when all the sudden Bella's husband, Edward (you didn't meet him) turns around and says that "Masen" is on his way in. All the sudden, everyone starts wigging out! Ren lets out this squeal that about broke my eardrums and actually pulled every single damn thing she was cooking on off the burners and out of the oven. And Jacob starts getting all hoppy-happy, the way he does and knocks his beer – which flips up in the air, spins about 12 times and lands, of course, right onto my lap.

You would have been proud of me (once you stopped laughing!) I remembered that I was the "guest of honor", held on to my temper and I resisted the urge to slap the snot out of him – which you know for me took some willpower. Instead, I excused myself to the "little girls powder room" to get the beer off of me and rinse out of my new dress – which is gorgeous, sending a picture!

You'll love this. Jacob and Ren's house is actually this little fairy-taley looking cottage that Jacob and the boys built out on the back 40 of Ren's family's land. Cute place, but first impression was that it's way too girly for Jacob to even stand close to without destroying, much less live in – but I guess that's kinda one of those being-practical, res talk things. How about this – I wouldn't be at all surprised and would probably believe them if someone told me the roof is made of gingerbread and the grasshoppers in the garden were all named Jiminy and sang "Wish Upon A Star" every night at 11. It's cute to the point that it seems a little over cute and makes it me feel cloddy. But anyway, I'm standing there being a big clod in my underwear trying not to knock over anything in their little frilly cottage powder room, when I hear Masen come in. From all the commotion it sounded like everyone was way too happy to see him and I'm thinking, no biggie. Some friend they haven't seen in a while has come to eat all the food so I'll go home hungry – and start wondering if I have a pot pies left in the freezer. And while I was sitting counting pot pies in the that damn little powder room (which I will NEVER pee in because you can hear EVERYTHING) I hear Masen start talking.

Aunt T, if I told you that for the first time in my life I understood how someone could think that they were in love with a celebrity – without ever meeting that person face to face and only from hearing them talk to someone else, would it make any sense to you? I hope so because as I sat there in my underwear listening to his voice and the way he chose his words and the way he put them together, something clicked. And while I waited for my dress to dry it started clicking louder and louder until I thought I was going to have to go out in my underwear to get a look at this guy. So I did.

No, I'm kidding.

Reasonable people do NOT fall in love at the sound of a voice. Reasonable people do NOT think they hear their soul-mate in the next room while they sit in a frilly potty, in their underwear washing beer off their thighs and waiting for a rinse-spot on their dress to dry. I decided right then that I was going to be a reasonable person. Then I dug through the cabinet under the sink until I found a hair drier and blasted that sucker for a few seconds. Then I put my blow-dried-damp dress back on and went out to see this Masen for myself.

Remember last time you were here? Oh my God – Everything was such a disaster! Dad had died. Sam and I had broke up, lost my best friend and then had the growth spurt from hell and felt like a fricking Amazon... After I told you everything and finally stopped crying, you made some hot coco and we sat out on the back porch. Do you remember me asking you how you knew you hadn't missed your soul-mate and that maybe you had already met, dated and broke up with him? I bet you don't even remember (except maybe the part where I was a self-absorbed brat for saying something like that to you – sorry.) but I've never forgotten what you said that night and some of the other things you told me before you went home. You're going to laugh at me because I've said the words over and over to myself so many times that I know them by heart.

You said: "Leah-girl, everyone will tell you that all relationships take hard work. But that's bull! When it's right it's not work – it just works. I know that I've never met my soul-mate because I've never had a relationship with a man that didn't take a ridiculous amount of hard work and every ounce of energy I had in me."

You said: "I believe that when you find love you won't wonder. It will be easy. Natural as breathing and your soul-mate will feel the same way."

And then when you hugged me goodbye you whispered in my ear, "Honey, don't you worry about looking for your man. Its a waste of time and energy. God and Spirit know where you are and where he is. When the two of you are ready, he will be put next to you on your path and you never be alone again."

Thank you for those words. You were right and that's just how it happened.

When I walked back into the living room, I found the most beautiful man in existence. He looked up at me like he'd been waiting for me (or maybe even looking for me!) and about the only other thing I remember from that night is talking to him. I don't know what we talked about. I don't know where Ren and Jake went. I don't know what time I went home or how I even drove. All I know is that you were right and I will never be alone again.

The next morning Jacob was at my door grinning like an idiot and asking me what the hell had happened. According to him (and for once he might be telling the truth) Masen and I just sat and talked and he and Ren just sat and watched. Then Ren called me a couple hours later, asked exactly the same question and told me that not only was Jacob telling the truth, but that there was "an electricity" between us that, as she put it, "Lit up the room and made Jake and I wonder if we should leave or if we dared to leave you two alone..." Pretty funny huh? After all that time wondering, worrying and making myself crazy, all I had to do to find my soul-mate was come home and walk into Jake Black's living room.

All the dirt? Hehehe! Oh my should I? Would an elder like you appreciate all the details? Hahaha! Of course you would and since I want you to live at least another 50 years of course I'll tell you! (I really meant it when I said it was the dirty living that was keeping you young – pray for me to have the same fate!)

Ok, aside from being beautiful, he's big – and I'm not talking white boy big, I'm talking Jacob plus an inch! Get your mind out of the gutter! He's almost 6'8", and built like a Greek God. Which means I get to be petite next to him and I can wear heels when we're together without looking like Goliath in stilettos! He's so smart AND he's educated AND bright! Really, all three in the same gorgeous package (and you know that those are not the same things) Not that it matters, but he's from a wealthy family – a huge, close family that is nice and has been very good to me. Masen and his family would give me anything if I asked – I never would! I can't tell you how good it feels to be so accepted and how incredibly incredible it is to know that they think so much of me and of us.

Do you think I've lost my mind yet? I haven't. If Masen has a flaw, besides being so beautiful I can't stop looking at him, so much fun to be with that I never want to leave and so smart that I feel challenged – not in an "I'm so dumb compared to him" sort of way, but in a way that makes me feel good about my own brains because he listens to my thoughts – that flaw would have to be his heart. It's big. And seeing someone with a big heart and the time and money to back it up is a little hard to watch sometimes. Even though he really doesn't have to work, he's not content to sit and let me look at him all day. Of course he has board meetings and all these financial things with his family to take care of, but they usually take him only a few hours a week. So he's sorta dedicated his time (and often money) to a bunch of making-the-world-a-better-place kind of volunteer stuff. At any moment a shelter or crisis center may call and off we go – The Women's Crisis Center's shingles have blow off in the wind? Be there in 12 minutes with a ladder, hammer and nails. Owl with a broken wing? Be there in 8 minutes – with leather gloves, warm towels, a clean animal crate and the wildlife rescue lined up and waiting for the poor creature's arrival. A run-away kid needs a ride? Be there in 5, and we're off to the rescue!

A few weeks ago I went with him to pick up the same girl, from the same street corner, with virtually the same injuries 12 times! When the 13th call came in from the crisis center for him to go pick her up, I finally had to say something. Maybe I'm a horrible person, but it seems to me that if someone is going to repetitively run away from emergency rooms AND hospitals AND homeless shelters AND drug treatment programs there's something wrong with them. But the kicker for me was when she took off again after Masen himself offered for her to stay in one of his family's hotels FREE while she pulled herself together. He set it up for her to start training for nice little job (with full benefits!) at that same fancy-smancy hotel when she was ready, and promised to help her get a fresh start and build a future off the street. How could anyone just throw a future away like it was nothing? And of course, I had a front row seat to his pain as she threw away every opportunity offered to her. The audacity to do the same thing 12 times in 7 days and still call again on day 8? I told him straight-out that I thought it was nothing more than a game to her and that this time, I thought we shouldn't go get her.

Masen listened to me, but he is so full of hope that he couldn't help but worry and think that maybe day 8 would finally be the day that it worked for her. He saw the fact that she did call again as a desperate cry for help and hoped that maybe that day would be the one that it worked. Day 8 would be the day that saw one less 15 year old child lost to the abuse and despair she'd known for so long. How could he not go, and just pray he hadn't stopped one day too soon? Needless to say, we went, found her and picked her up. I spent most of the night with her talking, tending to her injuries, cleaning her up and hoping that something would finally get through to her.

She was gone by noon on day 9. We haven't seen or heard from her in over three weeks. But while I'm afraid something unthinkable finally took her for good, Masen believes that she found her own way out and when we see her again, she will be a strong, healthy, independent woman. I can only pray and try to believe with him.

Wow! That was a crumby story to tell you – but I think it helps describe Masen, and why I love him, so well that I needed to tell you. Did I sound like I was complaining? I'm not. It's super cool. As much as he runs out to try to save the world, I'm included if I want to be and I'm seeing things, good and bad that I didn't know even existed, much less were right around the corner from home. And it is fun and exciting because it's like his mind can't stop – he wants SO badly to help people in some way, and is so driven to give, that he has a hard time being still. He says that the only place he can be still is next to me – Of course then the only problem is keeping me quiet! (That's supposed to be a joke, but I'm afraid it might have more truth to it than I'd like to admit!)

I can see you rolling your eyes. Aunt T, when he's around I feel like a teenager, before bad things happened and made me bitter and hardened. My heart pitter-patters when I hear him coming in the door. And I feel small, soft, warm and safe when he puts his arms around me. His voice is like listening to the most beautiful music and lifts me up to places I didn't know I could go. The slightest touch of his hand on my skin leaves electric fingerprints that tingle and glow invisible and don't fade for hours. I feel like I breathe when he needs air, and as long as he breathes, I could swim to the bottom of the ocean and never need for oxygen because I'd have him waiting for me to come back – counting each of his own breaths until I was in his arms again.

Wow! Now that was mushy.

Ok, until next time (which I promise will be soon) I love you! I'm off to attempt to find some shoes that will actually go on my feet! Wish me luck!

Leah

PS: I was just thinking of that frilly-silly, lacy, girly, little fairy princess powder room again. You'd laugh your ass off if you saw the place and then tried to imagine Jacob peeing in it. I did!

.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

I was still giggling about the thought of Jake in that damn bathroom as I licked the envelope to seal it.

"Honey? She's your favorite aunt. Are you really going to send that to her?" Masen's velvet voice made me pause mid-lick and stay frozen as his fingers brushed my hair aside to kiss the back of my neck. "Wouldn't it be better to not say anything at all than lie like that?" His lips had left my skin, but the sweet burn of where they touched me pulsed and rippled, begging for more attention.

For the moment, I resigned myself to my loss and took as deep of a breath as I could.

"Nope." I pressed the envelope's edge into place. "Luna! Wanna go for a ride?"

It sounded like Luna rolled down the stairs. One hundred and twenty eight pounds of fur hit the hardwood, skidded about six feet and slammed into the already cracked cabinet door before her paws found purchase, flipped her around 270 degrees and brought her to my feet – without knocking me over: Tongue lolling, ears alert and an obvious "YES!" in her eyes. Her tail never stopped wagging as I clipped on her leash and headed out the door.