Page 38 of Postmarked December
“I’m still pretty delicate. I do worry that I might not recover if he broke my heart. I’ve already thought about it.”
Marion handed her a glass. “Take things slowly. Has he texted you back yet?”
“Not yet, but he had to get home and pick up his dog. He walks her to the coffee shop and gets her a whipped-cream treat. It’s so cute.”
“And he might not want to look too eager. You two are still in early days; you’re both playing the dating game of being head over heels while trying not to be clingy.”
Heather took a slow sip of chardonnay and swallowed. “I don’t want to play games. I just want to enjoy each other.”
“Give it a little time. You’ll get there.” Marion held up her glass. “To Christmas miracles.”
“Miracles indeed,” Heather said with a laugh.
“Speaking of miracles, have you gotten any new letters from Toby?”
“I did.” She grabbed the note and the bookmark and handed them to Marion. “He wants me to go this bookshop.”
Marion looked down at the letter. “Intriguing.” She handed them back.
“Here’s the thing: There’s no way Toby could actually be doing this. And Nick is more real life than these notes from the past.” Heather waved the letter between them. “While I adore reliving the little memories of my time with Toby, it’s strangely keeping me closer to a time in my life that I can’t return to. I’m not sure what to do about it.”
“You don’t have to go to the bookstore.”
Heather placed the letter back on the counter and they went into the living room and settled on the sofa. “The thing is, I owe it to Toby’s memory to follow through with the notes until I can figure out who’s writing them and why.”
“I’m always here for you if you need me. I don’t mind taking road trips to follow the letters,” Marion said. “The excitement is a nice diversion from my own issues.”
“Thanks.”
“And if you want me to come, we can never go wrong with book shopping,” Marion said with a wiggle and then sipped her wine. “But I think the car chase might have been my favorite. I felt like James Bond.”
“I wonder if we’ll ever catch the driver,” Heather said with a laugh.
Marion’s eyebrows bounced with enthusiasm.
That hope took hold once more. “Christmas is only three days away. We should do some Christmas activities and share in the spirit of the season. I’d like to do something to make a difference for people, in Toby’s memory. We should bake cookies and go downtown and give them to the homeless or something.”
Marion brightened. “Oh, I’d love to do that. What made you think of it?”
“With Toby’s notes, I’ve been feeling caught between reality and heaven. Toby gave so much to people through his charity work. It got me thinking about that verse my mom used to read me in Hebrews that said not to forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so, some people have entertained angels without knowing it. Toby loved that verse too. Maybe somehow, he’ll be watching.”
Marion put her hand to her chest. “Oh, I love that so much. Just tell me when.”
The oven timer went off. Heather set her wine on the coffee table, and Marion trailed her into the kitchen.
“We could deliver cookies tomorrow and then go to the bookshop.” Heather retrieved her oven mitts from the drawer and took out the steaming lasagna. The savory scent of garlic and onions filled the tiny kitchen. “What if we made them ‘Hope Bags’? I just came up with that.”
“Oh, I like the sound of it. Tell me more.” Marion put her glass on the island.
“We could put some basic necessities in a bag, maybe add an inspirational verse and cookies.” Heather sank a serving spoon into the bubbling, cheesy lasagna.
Marion bit her lip excitedly. “Anthony’s got that presentation tomorrow, so we could bake and fill bags at my house if you want to.”
Heather took off her mitts and clapped her hands. “Say no more. What time?”
“Want to get an early start? I could probably meet at nine.”
“I’ll pick up some supplies and come to you.” Heather took two plates over and set the table. With the smell of dinner and the candle burning in the living room, the whole place had a cozy, nostalgic feel.
