Page 26 of With All My Heart, Joy

You have no idea how much your reply meant to me. I needed it in a way I can’t explain. Thank you for asking after my Thanksgiving. I enjoyed it at my mother’s house. I told her about your gift cards and letters. As any mother would, she immediately began matchmaking and speculating and hoping. She won’t rest until my status as a single dad is changed.

Somehow I feel that you are being too modest about your singing skills. You’re really a musical celebrity, right? I’m only joking, of course. I’d love to know more about your PR job. What company do you work for? I know the business sector of Silver Lake City quite well.

I’m more of a summer guy myself, but you’ve certainly inspired an interest in all things Christmas. I don’t know if this is the new me or just a side of me I hadn’t discovered. In any case, thank you.

Paisley is in a classroom that integrates special education with the regular coursework. There are three other kids in her class with special needs, and a classroom aide with certification for specialized student education is there regularly. This year has been her hardest academically, but we work on it together. She has a lot of friends, for which I am grateful. I was bullied as a kid, so I know how important healthy friendships are. I’m sorry you didn’t have enough of those. I hope you do now. At least you can count me as a friend.

I’d love for you to meet Paisley. (And me.) Someday. No pressure. I feel like a creep asking too much personal information about you. Tell me anything you’re comfortable with. I’ll admit, I am quite curious. It’s good to have a few details. I have brown hair and brown eyes, too.

I hope your days are merry and bright. Until next time…

Yours truly,

Zak

P.S. I’m five-eleven. How tall are you?

Joy closed the card and slid it back into the envelope, tucking it into her purse. Zak’s card had been waiting in her mailbox when she left her apartment for her third counseling session on this last day of November. She had opened and read it while she sat in the lobby of Living Hope Counseling.

These letters were getting more personal. It made her nervous but excited. She pulled out her phone and tapped out a quick text message.

Joy: He wrote another letter.

Her phone vibrated almost instantly.

Lucy: Eeee! Maybe this is the one, Joy! God orchestrated it himself! Ask to meet him!

Lucy had said as much when Joy told her about the mystery letter exchange on Thanksgiving Day. Joy had her doubts. She was pretty sure God hadn’t inspired some lowlife to steal the gift cards from Zak’s mail. But he was known to use man’s poor decisions for good from time to time. Was it completely ludicrous to hope this was one such instance?

Certainly Zak Miller was too old for Joy. A wisp of longing curled through her. Maybe he wasn’tthatold. Maybe he had his daughter young, like twenty. He could be thirty.

She gulped. That was still eight years older than her. Everyone in her family had chosen partners close to their own ages, except for Lucy. Seven years had seemed big to Joy when Lucy began seeing Silas. But maybe it wasn’t so bad.

“Joy?”

The man who possessed the most soothing voice she would ever hear was calling to her from the doorway of Living Hope Counseling offices.

She smiled as she approached, thoughts of Zak fleeing. “How was your Thanksgiving, Mr. Miller?”

He returned her greeting affably. “Very nice, thank you. Spent it in Grand Rapids with my mother and family. How about you?”

Joy blinked. Grand Rapids? Had she known Isaac Miller’s family was in Grand Rapids? “Same as always.”

“And I’m sure you didn’t mind your mom’s tradition of decorating the tree?”

She drew back in surprise. “How did you know about that?”

He rubbed his neck, a sheepish gesture. “Silas told me. Not aboutyou, but about your mom’s tradition.” Mr. Miller looked flustered as he gestured at his closed office door. “Go ahead.”

Joy entered before him. Something about him was different. “Well, of course I enjoyed it. And your mother, did she have all of her decorations out?”

He sighed as though it pained him. “I can’t remember a Thanksgiving that didn’t feel like Christmas.”

“I see nothing wrong with that.” Joy took a deep breath, taking a piney whiff. “Do IsmellChristmas?”

“Cedarwood essential oil.” He turned his back, appearing busy at his desk. “I thought you’d enjoy it.”

He’d chosen his essential oil forher? What was she supposed to make of that?

---