The Letter. Elizabeth Blackwell

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      Go what alone? If you can’t get me the summary by tonight, try for tomorrow a. m.

      p. s. Nightmares at work are no excuse. Part of the job.

      

      Cassie frantically clicked on her sent mail folder. Sure enough, the response she’d intended for Cooper had gone to Jeffrey instead. Great. Just when she was supposed to be burnishing her professional reputation, she’d sent a personal message to her boss.

      Quickly, she responded to Jeffrey, double-checking the return address carefully.

      

      My mistake. Meant to send that message to Cooper explaining why I’d be spending my evening at work yet again. As you said, nightmares are business as usual. Will be happy to get you that work summary by the end of the day. No problem.

      

      It was, in fact, a huge problem. How was she supposed to work on this self-promoting document when she had back-to-back meetings scheduled well past five? She’d hoped to take a half-hour lunch break to visit a nearby bridal salon, but that plan was shot now. All so she could justify keeping a job she already had.

      Cassie dialed Cooper’s cell phone. It went immediately to voice mail.

      “Hey there,” Cassie said. “Got your e-mail. I’m so sorry, but I can’t make it to the Drake today. Horrible day at work, and something big is up—I’ll tell you later, but I don’t think it’s good. Anyway, I’ve got to stay late and prove myself. Can you go to the meeting anyway? You can tell me all about it tonight. Thanks.”

      She hung up, then considered calling back and saying something nice. Didn’t most women end conversations with their fiancés by saying, “I love you” or, “Can’t wait to see you”? But Cassie was in business mode and it simply hadn’t occurred to her.

      She typed a quick message.

      

      Just left you a voice mail. Forgot to say I love you. See you later.

      

      Cassie hit Send and watched the words I love you disappear from her screen. She tried to remember the last time she’d said them out loud.

      Arriving home that night around ten, Cassie kept running certain images through her mind—the way two of the firm’s partners had stopped talking when she’d walked by the front desk to pick up a package. Jeffrey’s over-casual thanks when she’d delivered a ten-page summary of her professional accomplishments. The sight of Lowell, the firm’s managing partner, at the photocopy machines, doing work that was usually delegated to the lowliest paralegals.

      Still, as Cassie strolled through the sleek, unfurnished lobby of her condo building, she was determined to leave work at the office for once. Talk to Cooper, try to work up some enthusiasm for the wedding planning that he’d taken on alone. They hadn’t even picked a date yet, but the big venues filled up a year or more in advance, so they’d decided to start looking. But so far Cooper had been the only one to do anything.

      Cassie opened the door to the apartment and was greeted by darkness. Walking down the hall, she came to the living room, lit by a small table lamp. Had Cooper gone back to the office after his meeting at the Drake? It wouldn’t be the first time. But no—she’d spotted his briefcase sitting by the front door, where he usually kept it. His wallet was on the front hall table.

      Cassie glanced toward the bedroom and saw that the door was closed. A note was taped to the front.

      Sorry I missed you. Have to get up at 5 a.m. for flight to London, so I went to bed early. Leave a note if you want me to wake you up before I go. Otherwise, see you Saturday.

      The London trip. She’d forgotten all about it. It was the reason he’d scheduled the Drake tour for tonight, because it was the only time he’d have available until the following week. And she’d completely forgotten.

      Leave a note if you want me to wake you up.

      It seemed fitting, given that was how they seemed to communicate these days.

      Cassie walked back down the hall to the living room, took off her shoes and tossed them on the floor. Another piece of paper was sitting in front of the answering machine.

      Aunt Nell called. Said you can call her late.

      Was ten o’clock too late for a seventysomething woman? Cassie wasn’t sure. But she knew she couldn’t sleep, so it was worth a try.

      Aunt Nell picked up the phone on the second ring, her voice as cheery as if it were midafternoon.

      “Hello?”

      “Aunt Nell, it’s Cassie. Am I calling too late?”

      “’Course not. I make a point of not going to bed before midnight. Don’t want to become a boring old lady.”

      “I don’t think anyone will ever say that about you,” Cassie said.

      Nell’s hearty laugh echoed through the receiver. Lydia might see her sister as flighty and unpredictable, but Nell clearly enjoyed life. Cassie found herself wishing she’d taken more time to get to know her. What must it be like to go through life with happiness as your default setting?

      “I guess congratulations are in order,” Nell said. “When’s the big day?”

      “We’re still working on that,” Cassie said. “You know how it is—work schedules. It’s really hard to find a time that’s good for both of us.”

      “I don’t believe I’ve ever had a real work schedule in my life!” Nell said. “I do admire you, though. Lydia’s always bursting with pride when she talks about you.”

      “Listen, I was actually calling about Grandma,” Cassie said, anxious to get to the point before she lost her nerve. “A weird thing happened yesterday. I was at her house for lunch, and I went to the basement to look at some fabric—well, the background isn’t really important, but I found this letter. A love letter.”

      “Hmm.”

      “The thing is, I don’t think my grandfather wrote it.”

      “Then who was it from?” Nell asked.

      “I don’t know. Someone with the initials F.B.”

      Cassie waited in silence for a moment.

      “Doesn’t mean anything to me,” Nell said. “Do you know when it was written?”

      “No, there’s no date. Could it be someone in Knox Junction, someone she knew when she was younger?”

      “As far as I know, she didn’t date anyone else before marrying Henry,” Nell said. “And I don’t see…” Her voice trailed off.

      “What?”

      “Well, from everything I’ve seen and heard, Henry is the love of my sister’s life. I don’t use that term lightly. Believe me, I thought I was in love many, many times, СКАЧАТЬ