Page 48 of Postmarked December

By early afternoon, Heather had made both sugar and gingerbread cookies as well as Toby’s famous marshmallow fudge. While the treats cooled, she’d had a bubble bath and treated herself to another glass of champagne. Now, dressed in a fresh set of clothes and feeling merry as snow fell lightly outside like feathers, she pulled out her journal and took it to the sofa. Curling up with the leather book in her lap, she started to write.

Toby, you’ve blown me away with all this. It’s amazing how you were able to whip me up into this whirlwind with your messages. I began this journal thinking it would be my love letter to you, but in true Toby form, you’ve outdone me on the creative front, and your letters are larger than life (pun intended?). In fact, I’m surprised by your incredibly clear message that I need to get out more. Which is interesting, given that you were always the one who skirted around the public. While I enjoyed being out and about, I loved your quiet nature. That’s probably why, instead of this journal being a love letter, my entries have been more of a conversation with you, talking through my thoughts. You were the best listener. So I’m going to keep this journal as a place where I can talk to you. Thanks in advance for listening.

Heather closed the journal, set it on the table, and decided to try her hand at one of Toby’s other recipes: her favorite, the meatloaf casserole. She got up and went into the kitchen.

Working beside the warmth of the preheating oven, she placed bread slices in the bottom of an oiled baking dish, humming along to the radio. She was noticeably fine alone in the cabin, preparing her meal. While she’d love to have a big family running around, she could do this too. Best of all, a tiny spark of optimism had emerged with her decision that her solitary life might not last forever, so she could relax into the tasks for the season that she was in.

She still couldn’t get over how much her perspective had changed in such a short time. And, if she were being honest with herself, it was due to Toby and Nick. Without Toby’s notes, she’d have never met Nick. And without Nick, she’d have had a much harder time finding promise in her future. She’d needed both Toby and Nick, which confused her. Toby reaching out one last time made sense, given who he was, but Nick’s silence didn’t. And if things were meant to happen, and she’d been meant to meet Nick, how could it all end in silence?

Her next season might look quite different if Nick never responded. She’d been pushing the idea that he was ignoring her texts out of her mind, but as time went on, she was starting to worry. Especially after having texted him again. The rationalization that maybe he was giving her space over the holiday to enjoy her family and friends had dwindled, especially in light of the fact that she’d broken that silence with another message.

His complete disregard for her texts had her wondering if she even knew him at all. He’d made her feel so special, and his abrupt abandonment had knocked her to her knees. She’d even told him about Toby—a subject she never broached with anyone. Wouldn’t he have been decent enough to check on her over the holiday? Perhaps that was why Toby had kept things to himself. Maybe he knew enough about people to foresee these kinds of things when she didn’t.

Continuing to question the situation, she washed her hands and checked her phone, opening the text chain with Nick. Still only her two unanswered text bubbles. Then her phone went off in her hand, startling her, and she dropped the device onto the hardwood floor. Her heart pounding, she picked it up and answered.

“Hey!” Marion’s chipper voice came through the phone.

“Hi.”

“You okay? You sound flustered.”

“Oh, I dropped the phone. I’m just cooking meatloaf casserole for lunch.”

“Isn’t that your favorite?”

“One of them.”

“Will there be enough for three?”

Heather perked up. “Are you thinking of coming?”

“Anthony has had it with weight-bench construction. He wants to watch football and relax. I told him I know the perfect place.”

Heather burst into a smile, unable to quiet her squeal. “When can you get here?”

“We’re all packed and can be there by dinnertime.”

“I’ll text you the location. Be careful! It’s starting to snow again.”

“Oh, I can’t wait! Need me to bring anything?” Marion asked.

“I’ve got enough food to feed an army. If you want a specific wine or something, you can bring that. I’ve got champagne, and coffee for the morning.”

Marion let out a loud “Ha!” and said, “I’ve already packed wine and Anthony’s beers!”

“I should’ve guessed.”

“Okay! I’ll see you soon. Love you!”

“Be careful!” she said again.

When they got off the call, she texted Marion directions, set her phone on the table, and went back into the kitchen, glad for the distraction from Nick.

About four hours later, with the fire going and the candles lit, the sound of tires grinding on the snow outside pulled Heather to the window. Anthony’s truck came to a stop next to the outdoor Christmas tree, and Marion hopped out of the passenger seat, holding Scarlett’s carrier.

With exuberant excitement, Heather unlatched the front door and swung it open. Anthony waved before ducking behind his seat in the truck and retrieving a suitcase, a few bags, and a small cooler, while Marion jogged through the snow with her free arm outstretched.

“We made it!” She threw her arm around Heather and gave her a squeeze, the carrier by her side.