More AN's: First, thank you for all the reviews! I'm glad to see the previous chapter did what it was intended to do. As requested, this has been updated. This has been a real emotional piece for me to write; lots of tears were shed over it. Hope you enjoy! Remember to let me know what you think by clicking on that little, blue "go" button at the bottom of this page. Please don't expect the next update to come as quickly as this one.
Now, without further delay, here's the "The Letter"...
The Letter
The suspense and tension was nearly too much for the former First Sergeant of the GI Joe team to bear. He had dealt with a number of issues and circumstances throughout his military and post-military careers, but nothing compared to this. The last thing he ever wanted to do was to put his marriage at risk. Conrad gently caressed his wife's cheek with his clammy hand and brought her face to meet his, both looking directly into each other's tear-filled, blue eyes. He pulled Shana's face closer to his and brushed a small kiss on her lips; a kiss he desperately wished had lasted much longer as he wondered if it would be their last.
Conrad's lips felt good against her own. A part of Shana wanted to pull him closer to her and never let go; however, another part of her wanted to read the letter and find out exactly what was going on. Siding against her desire of having his comforting arms wrapped securely around her, Shana removed his hands from her face and stood up.
Conrad would have rather that she remained in his lap and allowed him to hold her while she read the letter; after which, they could talk things out and cry. What have I done? Conrad thought silently to himself as his wife's long, red hair trailed out of his hands; another moment Conrad when wished time would freeze. After the tip of her hair left his hand and she was out of reach, he crouched down and buried his head in his hands, his elbows resting upon his legs. He knew now wasn't the time to go after her; she needed her space. Conrad looked up to see Shana pace their family room floor in almost the same fashion as he had done earlier that afternoon.
"What the hell?" Shana muttered as she placed the photo behind the letter. She anxiously and nervously began to read it, her hands trembling with fear, wondering what news it contained.
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Dear Mr. Conrad Hauser,
I hope this letter finds you in good spirits. First, let me introduce myself. I am Mrs. Molly Johnston of St. Louis, Missouri. I know you have no clue who I am, and what I'm about to tell you is going to be quite a surprise, especially, if my understanding of the situation is correct. I suggest that you sit down before reading any further.
I'm sure by now that you have looked over the enclosed photographs. The child and young man in the pictures is Christopher Scott Johnston, our adopted son. He is the reason that I am writing to you.
Around eight years ago, he started asking us if we could locate his birth parents. At first, we were concerned about his emotional well-being, if he knew what he really wanted, and if his birth parents wanted to be found so we hesitated. We were also concerned he would leave us for one of you, but after a year of asking, we had to put our fears aside and do what we could to make his wish come true. The risks involved could never repay the happiness we've enjoyed since receiving him into our family. After our daughter was born, I was unable to have anymore children; although, we desperately wanted another one. Christopher has been such a blessing and joy to us. He has made our family complete.
Back to the reason for writing this letter... We located his mother around a year after we began our search. Since we had a closed adoption, records were not made readily available to us, and we had very little information to go on. After running into brick wall after brick wall, we finally stumbled onto pure luck. We attended a Thanksgiving business event and met a lady who knew of a lady who had a story very similar to Christopher's. The only difference was that she knew a lady who put her son up for adoption.
Because it was a business function, we decided it wasn't the best time to bring this up and arranged to meet with her another time. We went to her home the week following as had been agreed upon. The more we talked, the more it seemed like we were definitely speaking of the same baby. These ladies were good friends, and she had plenty of pictures of this young lady to show us. It was amazing how much Christopher looked like her. Needless to say, our host refused to give us any of her information, even her name, but said she would be our liaison and speak with her friend for us.
We waited and waited, but the phone call never came. The only thing we knew was that we couldn't give up on our faith. You see, we had a constant reminder as our daughter's name is Faith. There had to be a reason why we met this person at that evening, during a time when all other doors weren't budging. Finally, almost three weeks later, the phone rang and the lady we had met called to tell us her friend wanted to meet Christopher. She said her friend agreed that he must be the child she gave up almost thirteen years ago. We arranged to meet the weekend before Christmas at our home, which ended up being another wonderful Christmas gift that Christopher unknowingly blessed us with. All of us were nervous and fearful in the beginning. After the ice was broken, the meeting went off well and ever since then, we have made it a point to include Stacy, his birth mother and now our good friend, in all of his activities.
From what I understand from Stacy, you would be much harder to track down, and it appears she was correct. We began searching for you when we began our search for Stacy and are just now finding a your address thanks to her help. Stacy told us that you two were dating exclusively while in college and that she was two years behind you. She told us about you joining the Army right after graduation and about the proposal, which she refused. I'm sure the news about Christopher is a shock to you as she told us she never told you about the pregnancy. She didn't find out until you were gone. Yes, she could have contacted you back then and should have; but, whatever feelings you have on this subject, I ask and plead, on her behalf, that you don't be angry with her as she was young and scared at the time.
If you've read this far, I'm sure you would want to know some information about Christopher. He was born on December 22nd in St. Louis, Missouri. He weighed eight pounds two ounces and measured twenty-one inches in length. It was a perfect, by-the-books birth, and we were able to bring him home on Christmas Eve that year; he is the best Christmas gift we could have ever asked for. Our daughter, Faith, was five at the time and wouldn't leave his side. They grew up to be very close and very protective of each other.
Christopher is currently a second-semester sophomore at the University of Missouri and plays football for them, among other stuff. I'm sure you can tell from the photographs that he has light blond hair and baby blue eyes. That little eight-pound, twenty-one inch baby we brought home twenty years ago now stands at six-feet three-inches and weighs roughly one-hundred-fifty-five pounds.
Not knowing how you feel about meeting him, I considered sending this letter to you without his knowledge and was willing to hide that from him. The last thing on this earth that I want to do is open up a door to a world of hurt for Christopher. We love him more that I could tell you, but I could never hide something like this from him. He gets this look of wonder in his eyes, a kind of glint, when he suspects something. That was the reason we could never pull off a surprise birthday party for him. Anyways, I've taken up enough of your time as it is, so I'll close. If you are interested in seeing him, please either call, write, or email me or my husband, Derrick Johnston. I'll provide all our contact information below. I ask that you go through one of us to arrange any type of contact with Christopher. I'm sure you can understand our concern for him.
Thank you for taking time out of your day to read this letter. We look forward to hearing from you. However, if we don't, we will assume it is simply your choice to remain hidden, and we will respect that decision until you contact us to state otherwise.
Sincerely,
Molly Johnston
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At some point, Shana had stopped pacing and sat down on their couch, at the end farthest from her husband. She stared blankly at the paper after she had finished reading it. The man she thought she had known and loved for the past several years had another story to him. A son who was only eleven years younger than herself. Although every emotion and feeling under the sun was running through her body, Shana felt nothing, not even numbness. She wasn't even sure if she was alive or if she was in her body. Unaware of her actions, she stood up and walked towards the double French doors, which led to their backyard.
Conrad had appeared to age several years during the time it took his wife to read over the letter; the creases in his forehead deepened and, despite his tears, his skin was drier and more wrinkled than usual. Worry was written all across his face. "Shana," he called out, barely able to speak. He met his wife at the doors and placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping she would allow him to embrace her.
"Shana," he said hoarsely, as she opened the door. "Can we talk?"
Not even turning her head back to look at her husband, Shana simply removed his hand and answered, "I'm going outside for some fresh air. I need time alone right now." The previously, happily-married red head stepped outside, shutting the door between her and her husband.
From inside their home, Conrad watched his wife sit on their porch swing, holding the letter and photograph. Every once in a while she looked up to the clouds and then back down to the wedding ring he had placed on her finger almost seven years ago. He caught himself fumbling with his own ring, sliding it over his middle knuckle a couple of times. Since their marriage, the only time his ring ever came off his finger was when it was absolutely necessary or while sleeping. Conrad looked up at the ceiling and asked, "Stacy, why didn't you tell me? I would have taken care of you. I loved you back then, but Shana is my life now; my past, present, and I pray, my future."
He looked back out the French doors' windows at the woman, with whom he was madly in love. "Shana, I know this news is a shock for you, it was for me also. Yes, that boy and young man in the picture is my son. There's no denying it; he looks exactly like I did when I was those ages. I think you realize that as well. You've seen my pictures at mom and dad's place.
"Shana, believe me, I never would have kept that a secret from you had I known. We've always been open, honest, and sometimes rather frank with each other. Shana, I love you. You are my life. I don't know if I can stand to live without you and our children. Please forgive me, my love."
TBC...