Page 46 of Lovetown, USA
“Sadie, I saw you in the library today, your hair falling into your eyes as you read, and I swear the world tilted. I was supposed to be studying for chemistry, but all I could think about was how beautiful you are. It’s funny. As soon as I got home, I forgot what you looked like, and now I want to spend every day gazing at your face. I need to memorize it just in case you find me unworthy of your attention. If you’ll let me, I’d like to spend every day proving myself worthy.
Tomorrow at dusk by the big oak tree? I’ll bring food. You bring that beautiful smile.
Dale.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” I say. “Prove yourself. You can’t expect a good woman to fall into your arms without giving her a reason.”
Lane nods, her eyes still on the letter. “This says 1976.”
“Did you like that one?”
She lifts a shoulder. “It was cool.”
I grab one and carefully unfold it.
“Kay,
You’re my favorite hello, my hardest goodbye, and the reason I work so hard every day. I know I need to make it home to you, and not empty-handed.
I love you,
Simon.”
Lane is quiet for a moment. “What year is that one?”
“’84.”
She nods. “Makes sense. Nobody loves anybody like that anymore.”
She picks up another letter, turning it over in her hands. “Um, this one’s a utility bill.”
“What?” I snatch it out of her hands as she laughs.
“Just kidding.”
I hand it back to her. “This one’s modern.”
“1995,” she says. “Shawna, I miss you more than words can say. Can I see you soon? I want to drive you up to Lover’s Bluff—“
She stops abruptly to snicker. “Lover’s Bluff? Nobody in this town owns a thesaurus?” She shakes her head. “What happened, Makeout Mountain didn’t test well?”
I laugh at that. “While you’re clowning, it’s still there. I could take you.”
“Whatever.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “This is painful.”
“Read.”
“Fine…drive you up to Lover’s Bluff and stare at the stars in the sky and the reflection of the moon in your big brown eyes.”
She smiles, and I feel the sharp edges rounding out. Her sarcasm softening. “Cute. But like I said, all of these are old. Nobody loves like this anymore.”
For the next several minutes, we both flip through the letters, reading silently, searching for something. I find one particularly touching set of letters from a couple writing back and forth—even though they only lived three streets away from each other. When I show Lane, she presses her lips together and says nothing.
“I found a recent one,” I say as I covertly slide the folded paper out of my pocket. “Wanna see?”
She holds out her hand, huffing out a laugh as I lay the crisp, sparkling white letter into her hand.
“To my future wife, whoever you are, I don’t know your name today. I may not know your name tomorrow. But I believe you’re out there waiting for me, and I want you to rest assured that when I find you, I’m ready to love you the way you deserve.”
