56
I rode along with Frank and Grandma to the hotel, where I found that Mom had been correct. It was neither grand nor worth the cost of the stay. Grandma, though, didn’t mind in the least. I thought she thoroughly enjoyed spending Aunt Rose’s money.
Frank had kept the truck running, waiting for me to catch a quick look at the inn. I was glad when I climbed into the passenger’s seat and it was still warm.
“Ready?” he asked once I closed the door.
“Sure,” I answered.
He pulled away from the hotel, turning left to head back to Lewis Street.
“Has Mike been writing to you?” I asked.
“Yup. Every couple of weeks or so,” he answered. “Is that all right?”
“Of course.” I pulled off one of my mittens to pick at a ragged nail. “Does he ever tell you what’s going on?”
“Well, I guess he does.”
“I mean, does he tell you the bad things?”
Frank nodded. “He has a couple of times.”
“Do they scare you?”
“A little.”
He pulled onto the main highway. “He asked me not to tell your mother about them.”
“He told me that too.”
“You haven’t told her, have you?”
“I wouldn’t. Joel either.”
“That’s good.”
After a few minutes he turned off onto a side street, taking the back way home.
“I don’t know what to do,” I said.
“About what?”
“The letters.” I put my mitten back on. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Well, I imagine you write back to him.”
“Yes.”
“That’s about all there is to do,” he said.
He slowed down, driving through a neighborhood a few blocks from home. My memory perked up, reminding me of how he’d take me for long rides to see the lights when I was little. How he’d point at them, not wanting me to miss a single one.
But in those days, I’d be nestled up under his arm to keep warm, not all the way to the other side of the bench seat.
I caught his eye and he gave me a half smile. “It’s all going to be okay.”
“Do you promise?” I asked.
“Nope,” he said. “But I sure hope I’m right.”
He pulled the truck into our driveway, not cutting the engine.
“That’s all right.” He nodded. “Your grandmother and I have to leave in the morning. We’ll stop over before we go.”
“I’ll be at work early.”
“Then I guess we’ll have some breakfast at the diner.” He grinned at me.
That grin. It was the one that I remembered from his good days when I was a child. When he smiled at me that way it made me feel safe and it reminded me that no matter how many bad days he had, he loved me.
For the first time in twelve years, I felt the overwhelming urge to tell him that I loved him. Instead, I chewed on the inside of my cheek, afraid that he might not be able to say it back to me. So I reached across the divide between us, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.
I opened my door. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”
He waited for me to get inside and shut the door before he pulled away.
Cedar Falls, Iowa
Dear Annie,
Why, oh why do I have to be in Iowa while you’re there preparing for a real, actual, bona fide date with David? Visiting family here is all right, but I want to be there with you. I want to play the part of wallflower at the New Year’s Eve party. I promise I would look away if he tried to kiss you at midnight.
Do you think he’ll want a kiss? Would you give him one? Do you think it would be better than when Walt kissed you?
I do not understand why calling long distance has to cost so much money. But my grandmother would be none too pleased if I left her with a hefty telephone bill just so you could answer my kissing questions.
Oh goodness. Did I just write that?
Anyway, I don’t know that you’ll get this letter before the party. Just know that I’m dying to know how it goes. We’ll be home on the second, and then I take a bus back to college a few days after that.
Can we go somewhere for pie and french fries? I just want to sit across from you and listen to you talk for hours.
Your friend,
Jocelyn