December 22 - Morning

Shane opened the door to the DLO.

"Right through here," she told her mother and Alex.

Oliver stood up as they entered.

"Good morning, ladies. Did you enjoy the tour?"

"Very much," Chris assured Oliver.

"Shane took us to see the old DLO," Alex told him. "So far from everything else. I'll bet you were really glad to move to this location."

"Let's say I've gotten used to it."

Shane shook her head slightly at Alex before she could ask Oliver any personal questions.

"Come sit down," she told her mother and Alex. She led them to the well-worn sofa.

"What are you working on?" Chris asked Norman and Rita.

"Letters for the 'Dear Santa' project," Norman told her. "We have a 'golden rule' for these letters."

"No letter from Santa Claus shall go unanswered. All gifts and responses must be delivered by Christmas Eve," Rita recited.

"Oliver!" Norman exclaimed.

Oliver walked over to the table. "What do you have Norman?"

Norman handed him the envelope. "Look."

Oliver examined the envelope. "Shane. Come look at this."

Shane joined them and Oliver handed her the letter. The envelope was torn and dirty, the postmark gone. The return address contained one word. Mike. The address for the recipient was badly smudged but the name was unmistakable. Christine McInerney.

Shane walked back and handed her mother the letter. "Mom, look."

Shane was thankful her mother was sitting down. Chris read the envelope and turned white as a sheet. Her hands were shaking.

"Oh, my Lord," she exclaimed.

Oliver came over and knelt down in front her, taking her hand in his.

"Mrs. McInerney, who is Mike?"

"My brother."

"Tell me about him," Oliver encouraged.

"Mom and Dad were high school sweethearts. They were planning to marry as soon as they graduated, but World War II had started, and Dad decided to join the Navy. As soon as the war was over, Dad returned home and married Mom. They hoped to start their family right away, but Mom had difficulty getting pregnant, and it was 5 years before I was born. She hoped so much to also have a son, but many years passed and she hadn't been able to get pregnant again. Finally, when I was 13, Mom gave birth to Mike."

Chris paused and took a deep breath.

"Dad died from a heart attack five years later. He'd had no symptoms of heart disease. I was married by then, so Mom was left to raise Mike alone. Greg and I helped as much as we could. Greg and Mike developed a very special relationship. Greg became the father that Mike had lost. Mike was artistic. He loved to draw and paint. He won several awards in high school. Greg liked one particular painting of an unusual flower so well he took it to a jeweler, who used the design as a template for the girls' necklaces. When Mike was 16, Mom was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease. By the time Mike graduated from high school, Mom couldn't take care of herself any more. She needed a full time caregiver. Mike became that caregiver."

Chris wiped tears from her cheeks.

"Mom died the year Mike turned 21. He was devastated. That same year, Greg left me and the girls right before Christmas. In less than a year, Mike lost the two people that he loved the most. He moved in with us, but it didn't help. He was angry and unhappy in spite of everything I did. Then in the Spring, he told me he was leaving. He needed to get away, to gain some perspective, to make a fresh start. He and Nathan were going on a cross-country trip. I didn't have any objections to him taking this trip, but I didn't want him to go with Nathan. They had been best friends all through school, but Nathan had been in trouble with the law on several occasions since graduation (shoplifting, vandalism, drinking and driving). I didn't like the path he was choosing. I tried to talk Mike out of going with Nathan. I suggested he choose another friend to take on the trip, but he refused, and walked out the door. There was nothing I could do to stop him. I was only his sister. He was an adult and could make his own decisions.

"Six months passed and I hadn't heard a word from him. I tried to hire a private investigator, but he was too expensive. I was a single mother with two girls to raise and didn't have the money. When a year had passed and I still hadn't heard anything from Mike, I was forced to accept the fact that he had turned his back on his family for good."

She looked at the envelope again.

"But he hadn't. He wrote this."

Oliver walked over to his desk, retrieved a letter opener, returned, and handed it to Chris. She carefully slit the envelope and withdrew a single sheet of paper.

"Dear Chris:

I know it's been awhile since you've heard from me. I'm sorry for so many things. For taking so long to write you, for walking away without saying good bye, for hurting you like that.

Everything you said about Nathan is true. I just didn't want to see it. He was using me. He hadn't brought any money. I was paying for everything. Gas. Food. Hotel. By the end of the first week, we'd made it as far as Chicago. I was almost out of money and definitely out of patience. I had decided that I would tell him the next morning we were through traveling together. I would pay for him to take a bus back home. When I woke up he was gone. He stole the rest of my money and my car. So there I was, stranded halfway across the country with no car and not a cent to my name. I know I could have called, but I was too embarrassed and too proud to tell you what had happened.

I went to the police and filed a report, then found a shelter so I could get something to eat. By late afternoon the police had found my car, well, what was left of it. It had been stripped. Nathan had sold it for parts. I gave Officer Martin a description of Nathan, but he told me he doubted they'd find him. He was probably long gone, which was a good thing. I was so angry I would have knocked the tar out of him if given the opportunity.

Officer Martin was a really nice guy. He told me I could come and stay with him until I got on my feet. He even helped me find a job. I've been living with him for a year now. I've saved enough money to buy another car, and I'll be leaving soon. I'm heading further west. I don't want to stay in Chicago, although the one thing I enjoyed while living here has been walking along the shores of Lake Michigan. It reminded me of the walks you and I used take along the Potomac River.

I'll write again soon.

Love, Mike"

Chris stood up and began to pace.

"This letter is 29 years old. Why haven't I heard from him in all these years? Where is he? Is he OK? Is he still alive?"

She stopped in front of Oliver.

"Can you find him? This is what you do, right? Solve the unsolvable? Shane has told me about some of the letters. What is it you call them? Devine deliveries?"

"It is. I truly believe that the letters find us, at the right time, and the right place, and you should also know that we never give up. We will find your brother, if you just trust us."

Chris looked from Oliver, to Shane, to Norman, and to Rita. "I do."

"We'll need the letter. May I have it?"

Chris handed it to him.

Shane walked to her workstation.

"The first thing to do is make sure he's still alive."

She typed briskly for several minutes.

"I've programmed a search in the national obituaries database for a Michael James Anderson born in 1967 in Alexandria, Virginia. Mom, this could take several hours. Why don't we have lunch and then I'll take you and Alex back to the house."

"Excellent suggestion, Shane," Oliver said. "How about the Mailbox Grille?"

Shane smiled. Oliver still preferred the Mailbox Grille to any of Ramon's new restaurants.

"Angie, the barista, makes wonderful smoothies," she told Chris.

She winked at Oliver. "She still keeps a couple of YooHoos behind the bar."

"YooHoo?" Christ asked Shane.

"It's Oliver's favorite beverage."

Chris raised her eyebrow but didn't say anything.

Oliver offered one arm to her and the other to Shane. "Shall we go?"

Norman took Rita's hand and offered his other arm to Alex. They left and headed for the Mailbox Grille.