by Terri Reid
“Excuse me,” Mary said. “May I use your bathroom before we go?”
“Oh, certainly,” Patrice said. “It’s right down the hall to your left.”
Mary motioned to Joey and they walked to the bathroom together.
“How are you doing?” she asked, after she closed the door.
“It’s great at my house now,” he said. “My dad’s back, Jeremy’s back and my mom’s happy again. Thank you Mary.”
“Joey, it was my pleasure,” she said. “You are the greatest young man I have ever met. It was a pleasure working a case with you.”
He grinned up at her.
“But, I have a problem and I need your help,” she said.
Joey looked serious. “What do you need?”
Mary shook her head. “I can’t keep my dog,” she said. “I just work too many hours. I need to find another home for him.”
“Really, you don’t want Chief?”
Mary grinned. “Chief? That’s what you named him? Won’t Bradley be pleased!”
Joey nodded. “Yeah, it was either Chief or Hero, but those two words mean pretty much the same thing to me.”
“You’re right,” she said. “They do mean the same thing. I’m sure Bradley will be honored. So, can you keep him for me?”
Joey grinned. “That’s the best Christmas present ever,” he said.
“I’m sure Chief will feel the same way.”
“I have a present for you,” Joey said. “But it’s not ready yet. So, I’ll get it to you later, okay?”
“Okay, there’s still two more days until Christmas,” Mary said. “You’ve got plenty of time.”
“Mary, is it okay if I love you?” Joey asked.
Tears filled Mary’s eyes and she laid her hand over her lips for a moment. “That would work just perfectly, Joey, because I love you too.”
*****
Chapter Forty-one
The door bell rang at the same time the oven timer went off. “Bradley will you answer the door?” Mary called, as she pulled the appetizers out of the oven.
Bradley walked across the room and pulled open the front door. Linda Lincoln walked in. “Hi Linda,” Bradley said, “Merry Christmas Eve. Let me help you with your coat.”
“Thanks Bradley, good to see you,” she said, slipping out of her coat. “Isn’t it nice of Mary to have this little party for us single folks on Christmas Eve?”
Bradley hung the coat in the closet. “Yeah, it really is. Come on in to the kitchen,” he said. “That’s where we’re hanging out, because that’s where the food is.”
Laughing, they walked together into the kitchen. Mary was placing the appetizers on a tray and another man was sitting at the kitchen counter. “Linda, do you know Bob Sterling?” Bradley asked.
“Bob, how are you?” Linda asked. “Isn’t that funny, Mary and I were just discussing you last week. It’s so good to see you.”
Bob smiled back. “It’s great to see you too, Linda, you look wonderful.”
“Let’s all go into the front room,” Mary suggested. “I’ll bring the food. Bradley, can you get the eggnog?”
They sat around the coffee table, Mary and Bradley on the couch and Linda and Bob on the recliners across from them. They chatted about small town politics and shared friendly gossip for thirty minutes as they ate the appetizers and drank eggnog. Finally Mary stood up, walked to the fireplace and pulled down a couple of letters from the mantle.
“I have to tell you this amazing story I learned last week,” she said. “I think you’ll both find it very interesting.”
“I met Elaine Kenney last week, she was Patrick Kenney’s mother,” she began. “You both remember Patrick, don’t you?”
They nodded.
“Well, she pulled out some of Patrick’s things to look through and we found an old cigar box filled with letters.”
At the mention of the letters, Bob stiffened slightly.
“There were two piles of bound letters and a couple of loose ones at the bottom of the box. One pile of bound letters was those he had received from home. Linda, he had your letters in that group. And then... here’s the interesting part, the other pile was filled with love letters he had sent you, Linda. I thought it was a little strange he would make a long-hand copy of his letters, but it was also kind of sweet.”
“I suppose so,” Linda said.
“Then his mother looked at one of the letters and realized it wasn’t Patrick’s handwriting.”
“What?” Linda asked.
“And when we looked at the two loose letters in the bottom of the box, we saw a completed letter in the strange handwriting and a half-copied letter in Patrick’s own hand.”
Linda shook her head. “Why would he do something like that? Was someone else writing his letters to me?”
“You know, it’s getting late, perhaps we ought to continue this story some other time,” Bob said.
“Come on, Bob, the story’s just getting to the interesting part,” Bradley said. “Mary, tell them what else you found.”
“Well, first, I have to add this to the story, which again, was so interesting to me,” Mary said. “The same day I met with Patrick’s mother, Linda came here for lunch. Do you remember Linda?”
Linda nodded.
“And she said the most interesting thing,” Mary said. “I hope you don’t mind if I share it.”
“Well, actually, Mary...” Linda began.
“Linda said that she really wasn’t in love with Patrick before he left,” Mary interrupted, “she didn’t really start falling in love with him until she started receiving his letters. She told me the writer of those letters was the man she fell in love with. Isn’t that interesting Bob?”
Bob sat back in his chair and a smile spread across his face. “Yes, that is very interesting, Mary.”
“So, getting back to the original story,” Mary said. “We also found a note in the bottom of the cigar box. A note from Patrick. Perhaps he felt something was going to happen to him, or perhaps he just wanted to clear his conscience. He wrote that, while he cared for Linda, he knew he wasn’t in love with her. There was another man stationed with him, a man Patrick discovered adored Linda with all his heart. But because Patrick was going with her, he sat back and wrote letters to her that he never mailed and knew she would never see. Patrick found the letters and thought it would be a great joke to copy them and send them to Linda as if he had written them.”
Linda glanced at Bob, and then quickly turned away.
“When his friend found out he was angry and embarrassed. He didn’t want to be a laughing stock and he didn’t want to play games with Linda’s feelings. Patrick could tell Linda really liked the letters and the person who had written them. So, he was going to write Linda and tell her the truth. Unfortunately, he died before he could tell her.”
“The young man, his friend, who had loved Linda so much, was caught. He couldn’t write her and tell her the truth. He couldn’t betray the memory of his friend. So he finished his time in Vietnam and hurried home, back to the woman he loved.”
“But she had already married someone else,” Linda said. “And she didn’t know the one true love of her life was still alive.”
“I didn’t know how to tell you,” Bob said softly.
“Bradley, would you help me with something in the kitchen,” Mary said.
Bradley nodded. “Yeah, I’d be happy to help.”
Mary and Bradley left the front room to leave Linda and Bob alone.
“The letters were beautiful,” Linda said. “I still have them.”
“I meant every word I wrote,” Bob confessed.
“Where’s the mistletoe when we need it,” Bradley whispered to Mary, sneaking a peek from the kitchen.
“Shhhh,” Mary said with a grin.
“Mary,” Linda called from the front room, “Bob and I are... we have to go. We hope you’ll understand.”
The front door opened and then closed. “I sure hope they rem
embered their coats,” she said.
“I don’t think they’ll notice the cold,” Bradley said.
“I like playing Cupid,” Mary said.
“Yeah, it’s a lot safer than falling in love yourself.”
*****
Chapter Forty-two
The log in the fire snapped loudly in the ensuing silence. Mary didn’t know what to say. Christmas music played softly and the coals in the fireplace glowed, casting a warm hue to the room. The lights on the tree sparkled in the darkened room.
“They looked happy,” Mary said finally, walking into the front room to pick up the plates and cups. “There’s nothing like a happy ending.”
Bradley nodded. “Yeah, they waited a long time for love.”
She looked at him from across the room. “Sometimes love is worth waiting for.”
“Mary...” he started.
She quickly moved past him into the kitchen. “How about a little more eggnog?” she asked, hurrying to the counter before she did something stupid.
Okay, more stupid, she chided herself. Sometime love’s worth waiting for...melodramatic much?
“Mary,” Bradley gently took hold of her arm to stop her. “We really need to talk.”
She didn’t turn around. She didn’t want to see the look of kindness, or worse, pity, in his eyes. She searched for anywhere else to look when she spied the two objects on her counter.
“What’s that?” she asked, stepping forward.
He released her arm and followed her. There were two envelopes on the counter. One had a large lump in it; the other was just a flat envelope.
The envelope with the lump had “Mary” printed in block letters. She opened it up and pulled out a letter crafted of construction paper and something wrapped in tissue paper. “It’s from Joey,” she said.
“Read it,” Bradley encouraged.
“Merry Christmas,” she read. “Thank you for saving Jeremy. I will always be your friend. This for you. I hope you like it. Love, Joey”
She didn’t care about the tears that fell; she unwrapped the paper and found a large cat’s eye marble nestled inside. “It was his favorite marble,” she whispered, turning her face up to Bradley’s.
He cupped her chin and gently wiped away her tears with his thumb. “My turn.”
He opened the letter and read, “Dear Chief Alden, I know I kind of got in the way the last time. Maybe this time you can do it right. Look up! Love, Joey.”
They both looked up and saw a bundle of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. Bradley shook his head slowly and then looked down at Mary’s upturned face. “He’s right,” he said softly. “I really need to do it better this time.”
He slid his hand along her cheek and buried his fingers in her hair. Then he tenderly caressed her face with his other hand. “Mary.”
He lowered his face and brushed his lips against hers once and then once more. He felt her body relax. Then, with a soft sigh, he crushed his lips to hers and pulled her tightly into his arms. Mary melted against him, joy building in her heart and exploding throughout her body. She slipped her hands into his hair, pulling him closer. “Oh, Bradley,” she whispered.
He rained light kisses over her face and then onto her neck. She trembled in his arms. He moved back to her lips, parting them and tasting her sweet mouth. Mary shuddered, every nerve on edge, her body pulsing with need. Then suddenly, he was just holding her, wrapping her in his arms, his cheek resting on the top of her head. His breathing was rushed and his body tense. But his hands were gentle as he slid them slowly up and down her back. Finally, with the passion banked, he pulled away slightly and looked into her eyes.
“Mary,” he whispered, “I love you.”
She smiled back at him, tears in her eyes. “I love you, too.”
He pulled her back into his arms and held her. “I still...I still need to work some things out,” he said. “But I can’t hide what I feel for you anymore.”
She lifted her head and kissed him softly on the lips. “I can wait,” she said. “I feel like I’ve been waiting for you all my life.”
He laid his forehead on hers. “I want to be sure we do this right,” he said. “So I need to leave now, before I can’t. Does that make any sense?”
She smiled. “Merry Christmas, Bradley. Stop by tomorrow for another round of mistletoe.”
He kissed her on the tip of her nose. “Merry Christmas, Mary. I can’t wait.”
She walked him to the front room and they kissed. He took his coat out of the closet and they kissed. She walked him to the front door and they kissed again. He cupped her chin in his hand. “Don’t forget... I love you,” he said, kissing her once more before he slipped outside.
Mary turned the lock and leaned back against the door. Miracles do happen!
*****
Chapter – Forty-three
Mary stood in her darkened bedroom, staring out the window into the night sky. She was wrapped in her favorite terry bath robe and thick cotton socks. “I really can’t stay, but baby it’s cold outside,” she sang with a giggle. How could this day be any better?
A lone star came out from behind the cloud cover and sparkled above the city. My very own Christmas star, Mary thought, hugging herself. My very own fairytale come true.
Suddenly she felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise and knew she was no longer alone. She turned around to see a dimly illuminated figure standing on the other side of her bed. She reached slowly for the bedside lamp and turned it on.
The same ghost she’d seen in the hospital, in their hotel room and finally, at the Rawleigh Building, stood before her.
“Thank you,” Mary said. “I really didn’t get a chance to say that earlier. You saved our lives.”
The ghost smiled sadly and nodded.
“I want to help you,” Mary said. “Would you like me to help you move on?”
The ghost nodded again.
“What’s your name?”
The ghost sighed. “I’m Jeannine Alden, Bradley’s wife.”
About the author: Terri Reid lives near Freeport, the home of the Mary O’Reilly Mystery Series, and loves a good ghost story. She lives in a hundred year-old farmhouse complete with its own ghost. She loves hearing from her readers at [email protected]
