Pierre had returned to his parish just after 9 pm, still unable to get Joseph to reveal the object of his affections. Clarisse had been sad to see him go so soon, and retreated to the garden to be alone. It was there Joseph found her.

"Does Her Majesty wish to put on a sweater in the cool, night air?"

She turned, smiling when she saw the white wool sweater in Joseph's hands. He carefully put it around her shoulders; letting his hands linger just slightly longer than necessary. She didn't pull away, in fact just the opposite, she leaned back against him. He encircled her with his arms and placed a kiss on her neck.

She sighed. "You're all the warmth I ever need, my love."

"I'm glad to hear that. I was beginning to think you were getting tired of me."

"Never. If I don't have you, I have nothing."

"Not true, but I'll accept the sentiment." He paused, turning her to face him. "Clarisse, darling, I know you're wondering why Pierre was here today out of the blue."

"It seems my son had some important business to do with you, that neither of you have seen fit to let me in on", she chided.

"Only because Pierre was blissfully unaware of the treasure that he returned to me today."

"Treasure? What are you talking about?"

Joseph reached inside his coat and produced the small stack of letters tied with blue ribbon. "Do these look familiar, my dear?"

Clarisse's eyes widened in recognition. "Oh! Your letters! Where did they come from? Did Pierre… Does he know?"

Joseph shushed her, placing a finger on her lips. "One question at a time and I might be able to answer. First, no, he doesn't know. All he knows is that I wrote the letters to some mystery woman. Secondly, he found them in an old desk one of his church people had, and brought them right here to me, after reading every one of them, the cheeky son of a gun."

Clarisse laughed. "I'm sure they made for excellent reading, if memory serves. I thought they were gone forever, or worse."

Joseph shared her feelings. "Yes, or worse, they could have been sold on E-Bay."

"On what?"

Joseph shook his head. "Never mind. They're back safe and sound and no one is the wiser."

Clarisse held the bundle close to her chest. "That was the best summer of my life. I've never felt so alive," she looked at him, "so loved."

Joseph felt a lump in his throat. He took the letters back from her and put them in his pocket. He pulled her tightly to him and held her. "This is what I wanted all those years ago and could never have, except from a distance and in my dreams."

"I waited like a school girl for your letters to arrive, never knowing where I'd find one, or when the next one would come. I lived for that connection we had, that dream of the perfect life you wrote of but we could never have. I pictured everything you wrote as if it actually happened, and cried myself to sleep when I knew it was not to be."

Joseph tilted her chin and looked in her eyes. "I never knew."

"Now you do. But it's all right. It's okay now, because we have the love you wrote of, you can hold me in the moonlight, whisper love in my ear, and kiss me good morning when we wake up together. We have it now, Joseph."

"Promise me something, Clarisse?"

"Anything."

"Promise me that you'll take better care of the letters I write to you from now on?"

They laughed together, the worry that the lost letters would somehow surface out of their control gone forever. The promise of a loving future together very much alive, their love finally able to be shown openly, their only worry how to tell Pierre.

The End.

A/N If you liked it, I'd sure like to hear from you. If you didn't like, tell me why and I'll try to do better.
Thanks,
Barb