Page 16 of Postmarked December

Being in the public eye had never bothered her as much as it had Toby. Nashville residents were desensitized to seeing celebrities, and they generally left them alone. She didn’t think twice about someone recognizing her, but now the act carried a different weight. It was as if they were all holding secrets about her, knowing her private memories, and digging into her personal information.

She hurried back to her apartment, quickly entering and locking the door behind her.

Her phone rang, and she jumped out of her skin. With everything being a potential lead, she answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Don’t hang up. I’m writing about Toby⁠—”

Not this guy again. She cut him off. “Toby made it clear he didn’t want the attention to be on anything but his music.”

“Well, I’d like to also ask you about the awards…”

“He didn’t go to awards shows, so I’m not either. I’m truly not interested in what you have to say.”

“Hear me out.”

Given what she was already dealing with, the last thing she needed was more of her personal life out in the open. “I’m sorry.” She hung up and blocked the number, her whole body trembling. She considered calling the police and searched for the non-emergency number. Before hitting the call button, she paused, tears welling up. The wild swing of emotions was getting the better of her, and the last thing she wanted to do was be interrogated by police to get a handle on the story. Also, given Toby’s fame, and how easily things could get leaked, did she want this drama out in the public? It could get splashed all over the magazines, and it would draw attention to her and her life. Maybe she shouldn’t…

She’d stay in her apartment today and lay low.

Chapter Seven

“What have you been up to?” Marion asked Heather the next day.

“Nothing. Yesterday, the highlight was checking my mailbox downstairs, and, while drinking my new blackberry wine, I cleaned the apartment.” She lay back on the bed.

What she hadn’t told Marion was that she’d had the wine so she could spend the day buried in memories of her and Toby. She’d only cleaned in an effort to dig herself out of the past and force herself into the present. With the coded letters, she was afraid to go anywhere, but staying in their apartment alone sent her into a stupor of missing Toby and wishing their life could have turned out different somehow. Why did he have to go so soon?

“Any more Christmas envelopes?” Marion asked.

“No.” She’d been both disappointed and elated by the fact that she hadn’t found another letter, if that was possible. While she wanted nothing more than to hear from Toby, the reality of what those letters probably were was terrifying. She hadn’t been out at all yesterday. She’d even cooked at home, and she never cooked.

“So, what are you up to today?”

“Big day already. I worked out in the house, showered, and even did a burnt-sienna hair-color treatment at home.”

“Wow. What’re you getting ready for?” Marion asked.

“I don’t know.”

She eyed the papers for the plane ticket and hotel stay sitting on her dresser. Despite worrying that someone might be stalking her, all morning she’d swung wildly between shutting herself up in the apartment forever and going to Greenville. Security was high at the airport, no one could bother her on the flight, and she could hire cars to get to and from places. Despite the possible risks, something pulled her toward going. Perhaps it was an irrational need to manage her grief, but whatever it was, the idea wouldn’t let go of her.

“I could always fly to Greenville if I get bored,” she said.

Marion laughed, evidently thinking Heather was joking. “I’d shy away from anything that might put me on the next episode of Dateline.”

Heather rolled onto her back and pulled the pillow under her head. “Seriously. I keep asking myself what will happen if I don’t show up.”

“You maintain your freedom and safety?”

“What if I’m supposed to go? What if I miss something incredible?”

Marion groaned.

“What?”

A sigh came down the line. “There’s no way you should go by yourself, and I can tell by the slight yearning in your voice that you’re going to end up on that plane.”