Page 18 of Unconventionally, Elle
My Dearest Willie,
I miss you. I hope the floor was exhilarating this week. You'll be away from the stock exchange and back here in just three weeks, my love. I can't wait any longer to tell you, I'm writing because I have the most fantastic news.
Remember that writing competition I entered for fun? The Literary Times Challenge? I heard back! My dear, I won! They told me that I won $1,000 and an opportunity to work with a publisher. The very one that works with Margaret Atwood. Oh, Willie, I'm so excited!
I talked to my parents, and they weren't altogether thrilled.
They still believe my writing is a waste of time. A woman's job is in the kitchen or with her husband, they said. My goodness, you know how that angers me.
I hope you will be proud, Willie. I love you and can't wait to be in your arms again.
Love,
Your Sweet D
There was one other letter behind the first. The rest of the stack was tied together. I shuffled the pages with tears in my eyes and read some more.
My Sweetest D,
I am extraordinarily proud of you. I never doubted your talent.
The floor is busy, as always. In fact, my love, I have some news of my own. They are promoting me! We can finally live together here now that we can afford it. Dearest, come live with me here in New York. I already have a realtor looking for our new home, my bonus was very generous, and I promise that our lives are going to change for the best. Say you'll come live with me here?
In fact, we can finally start a family, and you'll never have to work, I swear it. No need to write your books and worry about your next paycheck or whether you can afford that fur coat I've seen you ogling at Bloomingdale's. I'll have it all taken care of.
Diana, I'm so thrilled to live my life with you. No more letters back and forth. We will finally truly begin our married life together, no more living apart. I'll be up this weekend, in fact, to help make arrangements.
All my love,
Willie
My eyes traced every loop and curve of their handwriting. She gave it all up. For him. I knew the ending. I was part of the story. But to hold the letter that had changed my grandmother's life--it was surreal. I took the letters with me to the living room, where I still had boxes to unpack. I opened the one labeled Pic Frames and found an empty eight-by-ten I'd packed from T.J. Maxx. I put my grandmother's letter in first and my grandfather's behind it. I don't know why, but I felt like this was important, and I wanted to keep this part of Grandma Di with me.
One morning I was sitting in my favorite part of the condo, my
balcony. Well, that and the exposed brick wall in the living room. I closed my eyes and inhaled the fresh morning air. Still nervous it wasn't real, I slowly opened my eyes and sighed with relief when Comm Ave was still four stories below me. I held my coffee up to my lips and enjoyed a long, sinful sip while bright leaves fluttered to the ground.
I was about to go back inside with my coffee and get ready for a yoga class, but before I looked away, I noticed the mailman park and head toward my building. Always excited for mail, I placed my coffee on the counter, put on my sandals, and went downstairs to greet him. He noticed me walking up and turned to face me with a bright smile. He gave me a wink and held out a small square package.
"This one's for you, Ms. Watson. Looks like someone likes to doodle." He chuckled as I took the parcel from his ink-stained hands. I smiled back and flipped the package around. It hadFragilewritten on it in permanent marker and then a few scribbly scenes of suns, rainbows, and a bird--I think--maybe a dog.Sarah.
"Thanks for this," I said, hugging it tightly to my chest. "You always bring the best mail."
He blushed.
"Have a great rest of your day. I really appreciate you."
He smiled gently and gave me a nod. Then he was back to sorting the mail and humming to himself.
I took the stairs back up, and once I shut the door, I sat on the couch with Sarah's present. The package was light and covered inPrioritytape. It took me a whole three minutes to rip through the tape and bubble wrap and pull out a square framed canvas. My heart skipped the tiniest beat as I stared at the beautiful small painting Sarah had created for me. A card fell on the couch next to me, so I picked it up and read.
Dear Elle,
For your new home. I'm so proud of you, and I think your walls should be filled with happiness. Here's a happy memory that I cherish every single day.
Love you!
--S
