Wednesday: Love Keeps No Record Of Wrongs

Becoming emotionally invested in the delivery of a package can take its toll. The workday ends but you bring it home with you – emotionally anyway. Today was such a day.

Of course she offered to find Jessica's mother. Making something good out of this - isn't that what Postables do? What did Oliver think she would do? Truth be told, isn't it the wounded who often seek to become healers of the hurting?

Tonight Shane enters her house and goes straight to her bedroom. She sits down on the side of her bed and opens the bottom drawer of her bedside table. She hasn't even removed her coat.

The small drawer is filled with cards, a few old photos, and a couple of yellowed newspaper clippings. Carefully placed on top of it all is a handmade card with a slightly crooked heart on the front. She holds it in her hands – gently following the outline of the heart with her fingertip. She cannot resist reading the note inside – one which she now has memorized. That night at Montaldo's may have been a disaster but oh what it began. She gently places it on the pillow beside her and continues to look through the drawer. Tonight this special valentine is not the card for which she searches. On the very bottom of the drawer in the back left hand corner is the buried card. It is a birthday card - one that was miraculously delivered to her by none other than Rita herself.

Shane opens the card. Her eyes are dry.

She remembers how Jessica began her story. "My father left when I was just a baby." A girl who loses her father should not also lose her mother.

One Christmas when Shane is ten years of age her father walks out the door of their home and basically walks out of her life. He promises to come for her birthday but all she ever gets is a card and some cash – a card she always tosses in the trash – until this one. She cannot help but think of all the times she hoped he would come, thought she heard him coming in the door only to find she was wrong.

She wonders how many times Jessica heard a door open and looked to see if it was her mother. How many times did she run to window thinking she heard her daddy's car only to find it was no one – no one at all?

She thinks about the first time she tells Oliver anything about her dad. Oliver tells her about him is more like it. She has been on the job less than a week. Over a couple of drinks at the old Mailbox Grill he confesses that his wife left for Paris two years ago and he has not heard from her since. Shane coaxes him into dancing. While dancing she has challenged him as to why he eschewed technology postulating that his disdain was merely an excuse not to locate his wayward wife. With no small amount of sarcasm he met the challenge and raised her one almost taunting her as to why she feared opening a birthday card from daddy with a twenty in it. He hit the nail on the head without even realizing the impact of the blow. But then he saw her pain. After all this time she suddenly thinks of how he drew her closer to him bringing her hand to his chest as he slowed their dance.

Before she realizes she is bringing her closed fist to her own chest and stares at nothing. She thinks of how she can still feel his lapel and his hand clasping hers as he stops dancing. She is grateful for his strength and his sensitivity.

But Oliver is not with her tonight. She must walk through this moment alone.

Questions, so many questions. Here sits a grown woman feeling a like a ten year old girl again. "Why did you leave? Did I do something terrible? Couldn't you love me enough to stay?" Sure, as an adult her mind knows better. But once in while when the day has been too long, or the topic hit too close, in a blink she is ten again.

But tonight, this night, after listening to Jessica she chooses not to cleave to the painful memory of his absence but to the memories of his presence. She thinks of a time when her dad took her places. Their Sundays are not for tearooms. They are for games and ice cream. Sunday afternoon in Alexandria is their time. They usually play a board game or even an early computer game. He teaches her everything from Candy Land to cards. They once went to an arcade and played Pac Man and ate cotton candy. Most Sundays he would take her for ice cream – just the two them. She remembers the first time she tasted coffee ice cream – with nuts and chocolate syrup. Her eyes are no longer dry. Maybe that's why it hurts so much when he stops.

She has a choice to make. She can either keep a record of those good memories or cling to the fact he stopped. Tonight she chooses to remember, to hold dear those good Sunday afternoons, and to consider that perhaps it hurt him as much as it did her when they ended.

She thinks about Jessica and her own theory that Jessica's mother was present for the wedding after all. Somehow, somewhere Annaliese has seen her daughter. Shane is certain of it. She wonders if her dad ever slipped into a room to see her, to see her graduate, or compete. Tonight she will read the card he sent her that last birthday and believe he meant every word.

Keeping a record of wrong will serve no purpose. It is too heavy a load to carry. If there is anything left that she has not forgiven – a grudge left to hold - it is time to hand it over.

Shane accepts that there are questions to which she will never have answers. But with the help of God and the US Post office Jessica will get some answers. Of course they can find her mother. They will find Annaliese and arrange a meeting and they will reconcile. And maybe, just maybe, one less little girl will be left holding a birthday card or even a wedding dress in place of her parent's hand.

Tonight Shane returns the final card from her daddy to the drawer. Only this time it is not relegated to the back corner of the drawer. The only card placed on top of it is a long awaited dinner invitation from Oliver.

Some nights when Shane misses Oliver her heart is filled with notions of romance. Tonight as she crawls into bed, she wishes he was there and she could simply rest her head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat.

"Silly notion. At least he can't read my mind – from my house anyway. He wasn't really happy with me today. But I think he came around. I'll start searching for Annaliese first thing in the morning and tomorrow night is the big party. Everything will be fine."

Tonight she must sleep. Tomorrow is another big day. Determination – perseverance will be her words for tomorrow.