Author's Note: Thank you for everything; you guys make my day a little brighter.
Nice reviews are better than chocolate, unless maybe you're licking that chocolate off someone.
Five
Dear Edward,
I can't thank you enough for returning that to me; I wanted to get my thoughts out, but not out quite so literally. I was a little worried that one of my not-too-subtle friends might see it and make me explain. Suffice to say that the writing was a spur of the moment version of therapy.
Anyway, I'm a kindergarten teacher here in California and I love it. The kids and my two best friends are the only thing keeping me from complete hermitage.
"What's with you?" Jasper was standing in the doorway of our shared office. I flipped the letter face down on my desk and looked up at him.
"What?" I moved some files around on my desk, opening one, hoping that I appeared somewhat busy.
"You're acting…different." He moved to his desk and sat down, giving me another look.
"Am not."
"Mature." He unrolled a few large sheets of paper and got to work.
When he was sufficiently distracted, I pulled Bella's letter out from underneath the stack of files; this wasn't the first time I'd read it.
In my spare time I read a lot and also write to random strangers from other states. Actually, only half of that is true. I enjoy the quiet as well; some people think I enjoy it a little too much. I have lots of favorites, but they change from day to day.
How long have you played the piano? I've always wanted to learn to play something, but I never got around to it. Congratulations on the new account, by the way.
As you can tell, I'm not angry for the privacy invasion; it's nice that you cared enough to write.
Random Not-Quite-Stranger,
Bella
"You're doing it again." Jasper brought me out of my reverie.
"I'm working, what?" I tried to sound mildly annoyed by his interruption, but he could see right through it.
"You have that look."
I grinned crookedly, "that look? This is my regular face."
Jasper shook his head and went back to work; I could see a quick grin form before he went back to his typical overly serious expression. We worked in companionable silence for the rest of the afternoon. At a few minutes after six, he went home; I stretched, preparing for a long night.
I made it home a little before nine o'clock; I walked straight into the bedroom as is the norm and undressed. I don't throw off my shoes in the entryway, I thought to myself. Where had that come from? I pulled on a pair of dark blue flannel pajama bottoms, just a random, errant notion. I walked barefoot down the hall and through the open kitchen, into the living room, Bella's letter in hand. It had been "in hand" since I'd gotten it for the most part; at the very least it was always where I could see it. There was something, nothing I could define at the moment, about it (or her if I was being honest with myself) that I was drawn to; I liked to be near her words. There was pain underneath everything, almost like it was her foundation. I wanted to protect her from it; I wanted her to let her guard down.
I lay back on the couch and unfolded it for the more than second or third time; the paper was becoming worn and creased from the multiple readings. When I was finished, I reached over to my ottoman and grabbed the paper I'd left there and a hard notebook to write on.
Dear Not-Quite-Stranger,
My favorites are fairly stable – a good book, Clair de Lune, good conversation, and a run really early in the morning before most people are awake and I'm pretty set. I have a bit of a weakness for ice cream too; don't tell anyone (I don't want it to interfere with my rugged exterior).
I've played the piano since I was old enough to reach all the keys; at the time, my mother forced it on me. I'm glad she did though; it's my own 'spur of the moment therapy' if the need arises. Perhaps I'll teach you to play one day.
I don't know why I wrote that…I continued on before I could change my mind and take it out.
I think it's sweet that you work with children, especially kids that young. Isn't that a great age? Too young for any real responsibility, but old enough that they're beginning to understand the world around them. I was quite the finger-painter at that age, I'll have you know. So, besides educating our youth, what else do you do? What are some of your more stationary favorites? Also, what's it like living in a place that doesn't snow? I've never really left the East Coast. Sorry, I just realized that was a lot of questions; feel free not to answer them all.
Yours,
Edward the Interrogator
I sealed the letter before I could change it and put it on a side table by the front door so I could mail it in the morning. I went to bed with the feeling that I'd been too forward, that I might be scaring her off.
Two Weeks Later
"It's not that I don't like the bar; I just don't like Tanya and you very well know why." I was growing tired of this topic of conversation. Jasper and I were working together in my office at home; it was Monday night and we had another meeting with our new client in the morning.
"I don't see why, she's attractive-,"
"Then you can date her." I rolled the sleeves of my work shirt up my forearms and stretched, feeling the tightness in my back. I carried all my tension there and in my neck; I was a little afraid that I'd be one of those men that walked hunched over when I got old.
"I'm not really into blondes. She obviously likes you though, what could it hurt?"
"My sense of decency." We worked quietly for a few minutes until I heard a knock at my door. I went to answer, happy to have the opportunity to move again.
I opened the door and my next door neighbor was on the other side; she was a woman about my mother's age, as a matter of fact they had been friends when my parents lived in this apartment. "Hello, Mrs. Bruckler, how can I help you?"
"Call me Lucy; Mrs. Bruckler makes me feel so old. This came to my mailbox today by mistake," she handed me a white envelope. I couldn't deny the speed up of my heartbeat as I saw who it was from.
"Thank you, Lucy."
"It's nothing, goodnight Edward." She smiled warmly at me before leaving.
I looked at the letter, so completely absorbed that for a moment I forgot I wasn't here alone. I didn't want to read it in front of Jasper, but I also didn't want to wait to open it. I could just open it at the front door, but I wanted to take my time with it. I put the letter into my back pocket and un-tucked my shirt to more fully hide it before walking back into the office. I sat down and pretended to work for what I thought was enough time before stretching again, yawning loudly at the same time. "Well, I think that's enough for today; I really need to get to bed."
"It's 9:30," Jasper looked up from his work.
"Yeah, but…we have a big meeting in the morning; we can't look exhausted."
"We are exhausted."
I stood up, "all the more reason to go to bed." I started walking toward the office door, hoping that he was following. I dared a look over my shoulder; Jasper was grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair. "We'll be fine, we've been over everything backward and forward. We could update him in our sleep." I clapped him on the back as he caught up with me.
He raised an eyebrow at me, "you have that look again."
"You're delirious, get some sleep." I opened the door and he left, throwing me a curious glance before heading toward the elevators. I felt a little guilty, but not for long. I walked into my bedroom, taking off my work clothes. I opened the letter, careful to not tear up the envelope in the process. I adjusted my reading glasses and settled into bed.
Dear Edward,
Aside from the early morning run, all of your favorites are mine too; I like my sleep too much to drag myself out of bed. And I won't tell anyone about the ice cream if you tell me which flavor you like the best. Also, I'd love to learn to play the piano, and to hear you play some time.
I think you'd get a kick out of my kindergarten class; they're quite entertaining. Your finger-painting might have some competition; I have some pretty talented students.
To tell you the truth, there isn't too much else interesting about me. I have a standing reservation for dinner at my girl friend Rosalie's house every Friday with our other friend, Alice. Those girls keep me sane. I also like taking pictures, but rarely have an opportunity to do so. I'm afraid my camera has been gathering dust for a while (and I forgot to bring it to New York!).
Let's see, stationary favorites…Wuthering Heights and Pride and Prejudice, sitting on the beach in the early evening, and Sundays where I don't have to worry about anything. As for growing up in a place that doesn't snow; it has its good points. I don't have to wear giant coats or check the tread on my tires before going out. Where on the East Coast did you grow up? Other than New York, I've never visited anywhere on that side of the Mississippi.
Yours,
Bella the Willingly Interrogated
Not surprisingly, I read the letter again, trying to commit it to memory.
When I woke up, it was still lying on my chest.