“A lady writes Daddy notes all of the time. She has Mommy’s heart,” Olive outs me a little more.
“What?” Mom croaks with anger tinting her cheeks. “You know the recipient?”
“No,” I correct her. “I don’t know who this woman is. I just receive letters from her.”
“She obviously knows you and where you live!” Mom says, exasperated. “Well, open it!” I don’t want to read this out loud. Not to her. Olive doesn’t understand much of what these letters ever say, so I don’t mind reading them to her, but this is all I have left of Ellie, and it feels like it should be private.
“Mom, I need this to be for my eyes only,” I try to explain, though, I know she won’t understand. She loved Ellie as if she were her own daughter. And for that reason, there are tears welling up in Mom’s eyes.
She doesn’t respond with an argument, just a look like I’ve hurt her. “Okay,” she says. With Olive locked tightly between her arms, she presses her cheek down on Olive’s head, her eyes close and a single tear escapes.
I open the envelope, carefully slipping the paper out. I unfold it, finding more text than normal.
“Dear Mr. Cole,” I read out loud, succumbing to the guilt trip. Mom’s eyes open with surprise, elation, and a plea for more.
Four weeks have passed since my last note to you. In that time, the weather has grown cold and I have spent a great deal of time indoors, reading, cleaning, and writing a bit. I’m afraid her heart feels a bit empty these days and I feel guilty for not doing more to fill it.
I swallow against the tightness in my throat while bearing a sharp pain in my chest. I don’t want her heart to feel empty...ever. I spent my entire life warming her heart, filling it with as much love as I could offer. Needing a break from the ice-cold words, I glance up at Mom, assessing her thoughts by the look on her face. Confusion is all I see, though.
I met a man, a man who doesn’t know of my weakness, losses or gains. I think he saw me for who I am and wanted to learn more about me, but I fear what he would think or do if he were to learn of my fragile state.
I want to tell her no man is worth the fight if he doesn’t love a woman for everything that makes her who she is, but I can’t tell her that because I don’t know who she is and I probably never will.
Anyway, I hope you and your daughter are doing well. Ellie once told me she dreamed of having a daughter. I know this isn’t the way she wanted it to happen, though. I’m sorry I have let Ellie’s heart down this past month, I will do what I can to bring back some of the warmth that has slipped away. Maybe this man I met will be different. Maybe he will be the first to love a bird with a broken wing. We can always hope, right? Take care and I hope the holiday season brings you everything you wanted this year.
Sincerely,
Her Heart
I have always thought she might know of Ellie considering she knows who I am and now, where I live, but this is the first time she has mentioned Ellie’s name or the fact that she knows Ellie and I have a daughter. That information would have remained private in any donor exchange of information, especially since I have no information about her.
My only thought right now is that she knows Ellie—she knew Ellie, which means I must know her, or I’d like to think I know her. Ellie and I had the same group of friends, aside from some of the faculty she worked with at the school, but she wasn’t very close to any of the other teachers.
“Hunter,” Mom interrupts my thoughts, tears now spilling out, one after another down her wet cheeks. “This woman knows you and Ellie. This wasn’t a random donation, was it?” She’s asking me as if I have purposely kept information from her, details I’ve been dying to find out for myself.
“It seems it, but I have no information about her. I never will unless she reveals herself to me.” Mom leans forward and takes the envelope off of the coffee table, flipping it back and forth, looking for the return address I’m always in search of.
“She doesn’t want you to find her,” Mom says.
“I know.” But that won’t stop me from trying.
“I’m heading out,” AJ says, walking into to the living room. I almost forgot about the atom bomb he dropped on me a few minutes ago.
“Where are you going?” I ask him.
“Home to work things out with Alexa, I hope,” Mom interrupts.
“Nah, I’m going to Lion’s for a bit,” AJ says, brushing her off.
“Oh, AJ, I hope you aren’t drinking again. You’ve come so far.”
“Jesus, Mom. I think you and Dad need to hit the road. You’re spending way too much energy worrying about Hunter and me today. For your information, I never had a drinking problem. I just like to unwind and enjoy myself sometimes. There is nothing wrong with that. Plus, maybe I’m just going for the bartenders’ company.” He knows he’s crawling under her skin and AJ has always been one to enjoy doing that to her.
“I did not raise you like this, AJ. You should be ashamed of yourself. You need to make things right with your wife, not go down to a—a,” she curls her lip in disgust. “Grungy, dirty bar where the girls all have ta-tas bigger than the state of Texas.”
AJ lets out a loud belly laugh before placing his hand on Mom’s shoulder. “Oh, Mom. Their breasts aren’t quite that big, but they sure are something to look at, huh?” With that, he grabs his coat from the couch and leaves without another word.
“Where have I gone so wrong with the two of you?” she asks in a shaky voice. “You want to die alone and he doesn’t know how to keep it in his pants.” While I know she didn’t mean what she said, it still feels like a slap across my face. I never said I wanted to die alone. Yes, the thought has crossed my mind, but I never admitted to it out loud.
