Letters From Grace

by C. J. Carmichael

  She looked at her friend, impressed, then went to the family room to pick up a book that had been part of the home décor for so long it had become invisible to her. Sure enough, under the title, Birds of Central Park, was the name Grace Hamilton.

  “Huh. I had no idea. Dad never mentioned he knew the photographer.” She opened the book to the title page. Congratulations, Maggie and Levi. Wishing you every happiness.

  “Looks like it was a wedding gift to my parents.” Had her mother felt weird getting a gift from her husband’s ex-girlfriend? Jess had enough evidence—old photos and videos and stories from her dad—to know that her parents had been very happy together. So probably her mom had shrugged it off.

  Max leaned close to her as she flipped through the pages. The photographs were stunning. But Jess was far more aware of the warmth emanating from Max’s body. So close. If only he would slip an arm around her shoulders. Maybe then…

  But instead of touching Jess, Max pulled out his phone. Soon he’d found Grace Hamilton’s website.

  “Looks like her latest book made the New York Times bestseller list,” Max said. “Impressive.”

  Jess already knew this. “Check the ‘About the Author’ tab. According to her bio she lives in Manhattan. No mention of a husband or kids.”

  Max shook his head. “I can guess what you’re thinking. Don’t go there.”

  “Why not? Dad doesn’t seem interested in the mayor. Maybe I’d have more luck fixing him up with his old girlfriend.”

  “You don’t think it’s a problem they don’t live in the same city?”

  “She’s a photographer. She can live anywhere. I’m going to send her an email.” Jess snatched her phone back and began typing.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me…” Max shifted closer, again, so he could see her phone.

  Jess had opened the “Contact Me” page of Grace Hamilton’s website and now she began typing. She’d been thinking about this all day so the words came easily.

  Dear Ms. Hamilton,

  I’m a senior at Woodland High, working on a project about women in successful careers. Since you grew up in Woodland, too, I thought you would make the perfect subject for my paper. If you could spare an hour or so I’d love to interview you about how you became a photojournalist and about any challenges you faced in your career as a woman. Since the project is supposed to include visuals I’d really love to get a photo of us together so I get extra points for meeting you in person. I can drive to Poughkeepsie and take the train to Penn Station. Maybe we could meet at a coffee shop near there? Thank you for considering my request. I look forward to meeting you!

  Sincerely, Rae Stedwell

  Before Max had a chance to comment, she hit “Send.”

  “Hey! You used my last name.”

  And she’d used her second name, not her first. “I don’t want her to know I’m Levi’s daughter.” Even as she spoke the words, Jessica saw how shortsighted her plan was. Max was quick to point out the error in her thinking.

  “If you do get her to hook up with your dad, don’t you think she’s going to find out who you really are?” Max tilted his head back and pulled on his hair with both hands, a sure sign he was frustrated. “And what if she googles Rae Stedwell the way you googled her and finds out Rae doesn’t exist?”

  “Not everyone uses their real name on social media. She won’t think much about it. And if my plan works and they get together, they’ll be too happy to be mad at me.”

  “It’s quite a leap from interviewing her in Manhattan, to getting her to see your father again.”

  “I have that figured out. I’m going to try to convince her to come to the Woodland Autumn Foliage Festival. She can rent a tent to display her photographs. As a local girl who’s done well, she’ll be a big hit.”

  “Our little festival won’t attract someone at her level.” Max was still looking at her like she was crazy.

  “Why not? It’ll give her an excuse to visit her hometown. I’m sure she has friends and maybe even some family she’d like to visit.”

  “And why did you put in that bit about wanting a photo with her? You sound like a stalker.”

  “I need an excuse to meet in person. I’m not setting her up with my dad until I check her out.” Jess was talking too fast. She always did that when she was nervous. Why hadn’t she at least read over her message a few times before hitting send? She wasn’t usually this impulsive.

  Max held out his phone so she could see Grace’s photo posted beside her bio. “Look at this woman. Does she look like she would fit in here in Woodland?”

  Jess looked. Grace had sleek, shoulder-length blond hair and round blue eyes. Her clothing and the way she held her body gave the impression of relaxed elegance. She did not, Jess had to admit, look like someone who would want to be the wife of a man who owned a small-town general store.

  “Oh man. I’m such a dweeb. You’re right, she’s way out of my dad’s league.” She took a deep breath. “Oh well. I bet she doesn’t even answer my message.”

  “Probably not,” Max agreed.

  “Then let’s stop talking about her and start studying for our chem exam.”

  “Agreed.” Max went to retrieve his backpack, which he’d left on the front porch before they went for their run. He’d no sooner pulled out his study notes than a chime sounded on Jess’s phone. She glanced at her screen.

  “Holy crap, Max. She’s answered me already.” Jess’s fingers froze over the icon that would open the email.

  “Well…?”

  At his prompting she finally tapped her screen and then scanned Grace Hamilton’s reply. “Oh man, what have I done?”

  With a grunt of impatience, Max grabbed her phone so he could read for himself. When he was finished, he shook his head. “She’s invited you this Saturday! What are you going to do?”

  “I guess I’m going to go.”

  “What will you tell your dad?”

  “The truth. Well…part of the truth. I’ll say we’re going to Manhattan for the day to do some research for a school project.”

  “How is that truthful? You do remember you invented the school project?”

  Jess had been thinking about that and thought she’d found a solution. “My English lit teacher wants a book report every month. I’ll ask him if I can do my September one on Grace Hamilton’s new book. If I tell him I’ve set up an interview with the actual photographer I bet he’ll say yes.”

  Max studied her face for several seconds. “Maybe. But what about your dad? You think he’ll let you go to Manhattan alone?”

  “Not likely. Which is why you’re coming with me.”

  “Hard pass.”

  Jess tugged on his arm. “Aw, don’t be that way. We’ll have fun, I promise. After the interview we can do touristy stuff like go to the top of the Empire State Building and run across the Brooklyn Bridge. And I’ll pay for our train tickets.”

  “That part sounds cool. But meeting Grace Hamilton is like the worst idea ever.”

  She sat and stared at him, knowing he would break. Finally he heaved a big sigh.

  “Fine. I’ll come.”

  “Thanks, Max. Now…time to study?”

  He shook his head. “It’s getting late. Think I’ll head home.”

  His comment reminded her why he’d left early yesterday. “How did the family meeting go? Did your parents have anything important to tell you?”

  Max’s face went blank. Then he blinked and shrugged. “Nothing important.”

  “Really?”

  He shrugged again and she followed him to the kitchen where he tossed his banana peel into the compost container. “See you tomorrow.”

  She watched out the window as he headed down the sidewalk. Something was different with him; something was off. Maybe he was annoyed she’d roped him into that trip to New York. She was kind of nervous about the trip, too, about the whole sketchy plan to interview her father’s ex-girlfriend.

  But that look on her father�
��s face last night. She’d never forget it. Sort of wistful and sad and full of longing. And the way he’d said her name, Grace Hamilton, as if it had some sort of power over him.

  She’d never seen her dad talk that way about any other woman—not even her mom.

  Her dad had done so much for her. If she could help him find happiness, help him find love, then she wasn’t going to let a little nervousness stop her from doing it.

  September 7, 1999

  New York University

  Dear Levi,

  Connie tells me you’re having fun, meeting lots of people. That’s so like you. I always wonder what you see in an introvert like me. My roommate has given up on me. She only comes to our room to sleep or change clothes and hardly talks to me anymore. Which is good, I guess, because I want to focus on my classes and now our room is almost always really quiet.

  Chapter Three

  “Your grandma came into the store today,” Levi told his daughter as they chopped vegetables for a tofu stir-fry. Last year Jess had convinced him they should eat vegetarian three nights a week. He had to admit the new diet felt good. And he was even starting to like some of the meals, though tofu would never be his favorite.

  “Yeah? How are she and Grandpa doing?”

  “Grandpa sounds depressed. And Grandma was looking older. Soon that big house of theirs is going to be too much for them.”

  “Oh, but I love their house. I can’t imagine them anywhere else.”

  “I know what you mean. But your grandfather’s got to make some lifestyle changes. Walking is good, but heavy lifting, climbing ladders…he shouldn’t do any of that.” It felt to Levi that life was changing too fast. His daughter’s imminent departure for college was one thing. His parents’ aging was another. Why did both of these have to happen at the same time? He supposed that was what they meant by the sandwich generation. He was now, officially, the tuna salad.

  “I guess they could hire someone to do the yard work.”

  “Yeah. Or I could help them.”

  “Dad, you don’t have to take care of everyone.”

  Levi tousled her hair, something she hated. It was sweet how she worried about him. He melted a teaspoon of coconut oil in the large frying pan, then added the onions. Once the onions were golden, Jess added the tofu, then the other vegetables.

  “So how was your day?” he asked his daughter. “Did you and Max go for your run?”

  “Yup. Five miles. He stopped in for a few minutes afterward, but he didn’t stay long.”

  “I can’t remember the last time he went two nights in a row without having dinner here,” Levi noted, watching his daughter’s face to see her reaction.

  “Yeah. I’m not sure what’s up with that.”

  Levi put the stir-fry and a bowl of rice on the table. As they sat down to eat he asked, “You two haven’t had a disagreement or anything?”

  “Nope. In fact we were thinking of taking the train to Manhattan on Saturday. I’ve got some research to do for a book report. And then we thought we’d have a little fun, play at being tourists for a few hours.”

  The request surprised Levi. He set down his fork and considered the idea. He could tell Jess was anxious as she watched him. He took a drink of water, then gave a nod. “Sounds like fun. Can you be home by eight?”

  “Sure.”

  Aware that she was still staring at him, Levi paused his eating again. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just thought this would be a bigger issue for you. That you would give me a list of do’s and don’ts.”

  He’d been tempted to do just that. That’s why he’d paused before he’d answered. He’d needed to give the idea some thought.

  “By this point, Jess, I guess I’ve taught you all the do’s and don’ts. You’ve demonstrated responsibility at school and working at the store. Next year you’ll be on your own in college. I figure it’s probably good for you to start spreading your wings a little.”

  “Cool.”

  “It has nothing to do with being cool. I’m letting you go because I trust you.” He looked his daughter in the eyes the way he always did when he wanted to make sure she heard him. She didn’t flinch, but she did swallow, which made him think she wasn’t quite as brave as she was making out.

  This was one of those moments when Levi felt the burden of being a single parent. It would be nice to talk decisions like this over with a spouse. Since he couldn’t, he just had to hope he’d made the right call.

  *

  An hour later at the festival meeting Levi zoned out as two of the committee members argued about something that didn’t really matter. At least, not to him. Once upon a time, he’d been pretty passionate about the Autumn Foliage Festival. But he’d been on the committee for a lot of years now. He supposed he was getting burned out.

  His mind drifted to the conversation he’d had with Jess yesterday. Funny that she would bring up his old girlfriend, when just that afternoon he’d gone online and ordered Grace’s latest book. Back when they’d been high school sweethearts, Grace had told him she was going to be a famous photojournalist. And now she was.

  He was glad for her. She had the magic combination: talent plus determination. Back when they were teenagers, she’d wanted him to be equally ambitious and she’d pleaded with him go to New York with her.

  He’d been tempted, but practicality and finances had dictated he stay closer to home.

  Grace had said it wouldn’t matter. They could survive a long-distance romance.

  But in the end—even though they stayed in touch with text messages and even old-fashioned snail mail—they hadn’t lasted three months.

  He’d kept all her letters, or so he’d thought. But last night, after Jess’s questions, he’d gone looking for them and hadn’t been able to find them. Maybe Maggie had thrown them out. Though it wasn’t like her to do something like that without asking him first.

  Right from their first meeting at the college library it was clear what a special person Maggie was. Kind and soft-hearted, but also funny and smart.

  Once they were officially a couple, Levi resolved to put all his feelings for Grace aside. To forget about her, as best as he could. And he did it.

  It wasn’t just willpower. It was survival. Because a man couldn’t keep living with the level of pain the end of that relationship had inflicted.

  He’d only heard from Grace two times after their breakup. Once she’d sent a wedding gift for him and Maggie—which Maggie had written the thank-you letter for. And then three years later she’d sent him a flower arrangement and letter of condolence.

  Since then he hadn’t thought of her at all—well, hardly at all.

  Levi tuned back in to the discussion.

  Clara Quiver—who had been his civics teacher back in high school—currently had the floor. Since retirement she had put her civic-mindedness to full use. There was hardly a cause or a committee Clara would not volunteer for. In the case of the Autumn Foliage Festival, she was responsible for recruiting the artists to be featured in the festival.

  “If we never try anything new our festival is going to get tired and eventually stop drawing crowds and—”

  “Come on, Clara,” argued Sam Rigby—former band director at Woodland High, and someone else who was a frequent volunteer at local events. “Our attendance each year is growing. We don’t need bigger crowds. People enjoy seeing the same artists each year. And we are including a couple of new artists this year…”

  The two of them were ground into their positions and not budging. Levi glanced at Erin, trying to give her the signal that it was time for the chair to step in and call halt to the whole thing. After all, their slate of artists and performers for the festival had been finalized. Nothing was going to change at this late date.

  Erin nodded in response to his raised eyebrows. She held out her hands, like a traffic cop. “Thank you, Clara and Sam. I move we make a note that the issue of bringing in new artists be considered by next year’s committee.” />
  “Seconded,” Levi said quickly.

  A vote was taken and they finally moved on. Levi’s head was pounding when Erin finally pulled the plug at eleven o’clock. “Thanks, everyone. We’ll meet again on Monday and then Thursday to deal with any last-minute issues.”

  Two more meetings before the festival itself? Levi wanted to argue but he was too tired.

  “I’m not sure I need to attend the last two meetings,” he said to Erin and Oliver James, the lawyer on the committee, as they left the conference room in Erin’s office. Sam and Clara had exited ahead of them, still arguing.

  “My job is the same every year—it never changes,” Levi pointed out. “I organize my team to set up the booths and decorations at the beginning of the festival and then I organize my team to do the teardown at the end.”

  “You are officially the co-chair,” Erin reminded him. “Besides, I need you to help preserve my sanity. Want to stop by my place for a nightcap?”

  “Thanks, but I’m beat,” Levi said.

  “I’d like a drink,” Oliver piped up.

  Erin glanced at her phone. “Maybe Levi’s got the right idea. It’s later than I thought.”

  Levi noticed Oliver’s obvious disappointment. Had Erin meant to be so dismissive? Oliver was a quiet man, small in stature, with thick dark glasses and a serious way about him. He’d moved to Woodland three years ago and Levi suspected he was having a hard time fitting in. If you hadn’t grown up in them and had no children, small-town social cliques could be hard to crack.

  “On the other hand, after listening to Clara and Sam argue all night, I’d say we deserve a beer.” Levi clapped a hand on Oliver’s shoulder. “How about O’Slattery’s?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Oliver sounded grateful.

  “I’m not going to be the only party pooper in the crowd.” Erin slipped between the two men, linking arms with both of them. “O’Slattery’s it is.”

  *

  Grace stepped into Dime A Cup and joined the queue at the front counter. As she waited to order her coffee and scone she scanned the crowd. Within a minute she’d spotted her. Rae Stedwell looked exactly like the photo she’d shared with Grace. Long, honey-colored hair and a fresh pretty face. She must have been watching for Grace, too, because at that same moment she stood up and waved. She was tall with a lean, athletic build, dressed in jeans and a gray Woodland High School hoodie.