Page 17 of The Christmas Letters
I hand her the letter, still uncertain what I’m actually hoping to accomplish.
Maybe I just want to know that the kid turned out okay. That he grew up and married someone lovely and lives on the island with his beautiful wife and a dog named Chester.
Also maybe I’ve been watching too many Hallmark movies.
“Well I’ll be,” Francie says. “Poor thing.” She folds up the letter and hands it over. “I remember when it happened. Nearly killed the whole island losing Eve and Andy like that.”
“Eve and Andy? Those are the little boy’s parents?”
Francie nods. “Eve grew up on the island. Moved to Charleston after she got married, but her mama stayed on the island, and Eve was out here all the time with Max. After the accident, he moved in with his granny full time.”
“On Old Magnolia Street.”
Francie nods. “She’s still there, though Max moved away.”
My heart twinges with…something. Not sadness, exactly. I think I just hoped for a more definitive happy ending.
“Off the island, anyway,” Francie continues. “Though I see him often enough, you’d think he still lives at his granny’s place.”
This perks me right up. “He lives nearby?”
Francie nods, apparently having decided I’m harmless enough to trust. “Over in Charleston now. But he takes good care of his grandma. Visits all the time.”
I nod, liking the idea of the boy in the letter growing into the kind of man who takes care of his grandma.
Francie leans on the counter, a sudden gleam in her eye. “Say. What are you planning to do with the letter?”
I look up, not sure how to interpret her interest. “Oh. Nothing, I guess. You can keep it if you like. And give it back to him the next time you see him.”
“I could,” Francie says with a slow nod. “Oryoucould keep it. You could respond.”
I frown and furrow my brow. “What, like, write a letter back?”
“Sure,” Francie says. “Send it to his granny’s place. He’ll get it if you mail it there.”
I slip the letter back into my purse. Why does Francie even care?
“Take it from me, honey,” she says, leaning on the counter. “He’s a man worth getting to know. If I’m not mistaken, he’s single right now. I think he could benefit from getting to know someone as pretty as you.”
Ha.Nowit all makes sense. Francie serves up her famous chicken salad with a splash of matchmaking on the side.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I sign the receipt for Chloe’s food, adding a generous tip. It’s doubtful I’ll actually write a letter to a strange man I’ve never laid eyes on just because Francie suggested it. But I have to give her props for trying.
Fifteen minutes later, I pull into Chloe’s neighborhood and follow Deacon’s silver SUV to their driveway at the end of the second cul-de-sac.
Okay, so he’s not working late tonight.
Or maybe he’s working from home? Maybe he’ll go inside, say hi to Chloe, then disappear into his office and leave us to our girl time? I hope so because I did not bring enough chicken salad for three.
Deacon gets out of his car, and we make eye contact over my dashboard. He looks a little panicked,definitelyuncomfortable.
And then I see why.
Prestonis with him.
Preston who I haven’t seen since our failed wedding day.
My hands grip the steering wheel as he moves from the passenger side of the SUV and stops next to Deacon, his eyes finally finding mine.
