Later that evening, Stephen stood on the opposite side of the new fence that separated the beautiful memorial area from the rest of the yard. It was created with so much love for you, Aendi Margaret. The newly discovered eyeglasses found in Serenity’s barn were now in police possession. He sighed with relief while glancing at the feeder and smiled with great appreciation. He whispered, “You taught me to be a bird-watcher.”
A tear slid down his cheek as he bent to the angel between two plants. With one finger, he touched a wing and considered his aendi and all she’d left him and his brothers. I wonder if you can see me, Aendi Margaret. I really miss you. And I wish I’d been blessed with just one more moment with you before you died. To tell you how much I love you. I thought you’d be here forever.
A gentle, brotherly hand on his shoulder made him turn. He smiled slightly. “Jake. Gut to see you. How’s everything with you and Trini?”
Automatically, Stephen and Jacob stepped slowly toward the end of the side yard where the grass met their fields. Stephen couldn’t stop a grin that gently turned up the corners of his lips. Every time he and Jacob were outside in the yard, their attention gravitated toward the beans.
As they made their way to the field, a combination of curiosity and skepticism edged Jacob’s voice. “Hey, is everything okay?”
“Why do you ask?”
Jacob offered him a friendly slap on the shoulder. “I can tell. I’m your bruder.”
Stephen sighed before nodding. “I don’t know if everything’s gut.”
Jacob lifted a challenging brow. “Just what does that mean?”
Stephen hesitated.
Jacob nudged his arm in his brotherly fashion. “It’s me, Stephen. Go ahead. Spill.”
Stephen considered Jake’s words that had been stated with a genuine combination of honesty and encouragement. And they’d been spoken with a sense of comfort that only someone very close could offer. Stephen began to talk, starting with the reenactment in Serenity’s barn, to the discovery of the eyeglasses, to the buggy trip to the police.
At the line where the beans started, they stopped. Jacob turned to Stephen. “So they’ll run fingerprints on the glasses?”
Stephen nodded.
Jacob hesitated before continuing the subject. “If my hunch is right, the owner must be one of the men who harmed Serenity.”
Stephen contemplated the thought while he rocked back and forth on his toes. A gentle cool breeze caressed his face. “I can’t say for sure, but that’s what my logic tells me.”
Jacob pressed a finger to his lips and looked at Stephen. “Did the glasses belong to Serenity or anyone she knew?”
“No.”
Jacob lowered his voice. “Then jah. It makes sense that one of the intruders owns them.”
Stephen nodded. “Maybe.” He shrugged. “Of course, we don’t know how long they were stuck there. And they could belong to someone who bailed the straw.”
A thoughtful silence passed before Jacob resumed the conversation. “But I have a problem with this. I thought the authorities did an extensive search of the barn.”
Stephen nodded. “They did. But it’s easy to see how the glasses were overlooked. It was simply by chance that Serenity caught sight of the earpiece sticking out from the straw. The color blended in with the bales. The sun happened to come in through the window at just the right angle and at just the right time to land on the earpiece.”
“I think it was Gott helping you out.” Jacob’s warm, reassuring smile matched his tone when he and Stephen looked at each other.
Jacob glanced down at the ground as a squirrel scurried up an oak. He edged his voice with optimism. “The police will find the criminals, Stephen. Hopefully the eyeglasses will lead to a full set of fingerprints. Then we’ll be able to wave goodbye to this awful worry hanging over our shoulders.”
“So you’re worried too?”
Jacob waved a dismissive hand. “Not worried. Wrong choice of words. Remember, one of our church speakers told us that if we worry, we’re not trusting Gott to take care of our problems.”
Stephen nodded.
Jacob paused to cup his chin with his hand. Then he turned to face Stephen. “Concerned is probably a better word. I mean, we have no idea who did it or why.” He offered a shrug before squaring his shoulders. “Of course, it could happen again. But hopefully not.”
“Thanks for your thoughts, Jake.”
When Stephen didn’t budge, Jacob cocked his head, and his brows moved closer together until his expression conveyed a frown. After a slight pause, he spoke with a hint of curiosity. “But I have a hunch that there’s more to this than just the barn thing. What do you think?”
Stephen smiled with relief. “I’m glad you’re persistent, Jake. Jah, there’s more. But it’s so deep, I’m almost afraid to talk about it.”
“Then we’d better have the conversation. Worse case is that I can’t offer gut advice. And you know what you tell me won’t leave this place.” He offered a steady arm and nudged Stephen to move toward the pasture.
Stephen’s horse let out a neigh. Stephen thought of Angel and grinned.
Jacob nudged his shoulder. “What?”
Stephen couldn’t stop a laugh. “Oh, I was just thinking of Serenity’s horse. Have you heard his name is Angel?”
“Jah. I don’t think there’s a man around who doesn’t know about her man-biting standardbred.” They chuckled before Stephen pressed his lips together thoughtfully. “I’m not sure how to say this, or even begin to explain this, but …” He stretched his arms in front of him before folding them over his chest.
“Just say it.”
“Okay.”
Several moments later, Jacob nodded. “I’m listening.”
“When Serenity was retracing her steps in her barn—just like that awful time she calls the ‘bad day’—we ended up in a very tight space at the back of the building.”
Jacob faced him, lifted his chin, and seemed to wait for Stephen to continue.
Stephen was fully aware of what he was getting into. But it will be okay. I can trust Jake with anything, even something he might find amusing.
“When we looked at each other, something happened.”
Jacob stayed silent.
Stephen’s breath stuck in his throat, and he coughed to free it. “For some time, I’ve known that I want to take care of her and protect her forever.” He hesitated before softening his voice to a more serious, confidential tone. “But for one long moment, I wanted to marry her more than I’ve ever dreamed of anything. I want it to be soon.”
“Are you sure?”
Stephen smiled relief. “Jah. I want to marry her, Jake. It’s the only way I can be with her 24-7.”
“Okay. So your protective nature is at work, Stephen. You’ve always been like that.” After a slight hesitation, doubt accompanied Jacob’s words. “But why else do you want to marry her?”
Stephen smiled. “I’m deeply in love with her.” He sighed with relief and lifted his hands to the sky in a helpless gesture. “I can’t believe I admitted it to you.”
Jacob offered him a brotherly pat on the shoulder. “I can. And I’m glad you did.” Several seconds passed while Jake swatted away a fly that buzzed between them. “Does she feel the same way?”
Stephen looked away while he silently recollected that inexplicable, strong moment in Serenity’s barn. “I think so, Jake. I mean she didn’t say, but it was that look we shared.” Stephen paused. “It’s funny. Not long ago when I brought up having a family, she gave me the cold shoulder. I’m not sure why.”
Jacob glanced down at the ground before lifting his chin to look Stephen in the eyes. “Does she want the same things you do?” When Stephen started to become defensive, Jacob stuck up a hand to stop him. “I’m just trying to help, Steve. After all, when you propose to her, you want to make sure every possible issue is resolved.” He shrugged. “Trust me. I know from experience.”
“You’re right.” Stephen sighed. “We haven’t really shared that discussion yet. But do you think we really need to?” Not giving his brother an opportunity to reply, he went on. “I mean, she’s Amish.
I’m Amish. We attend the same church, with the same set of people. So of course we’d both want large families.”
He held out his hand and lifted a finger. “To be able to count on each other to help with the children and the chores.” He extended a second finger. “To raise our family to love one another and love our neighbors as ourselves.” He extended another finger and lowered his voice. “And most of all, to follow Christ.”
Jacob nodded. “You’re right about those things. But brother-to-brother?”
Stephen’s stomach dropped while he sensed something was coming that he didn’t want to hear.
Jacob laid a firm hand on Stephen’s shoulder and looked at him with an expression that was an odd blend of cautiousness and positivity. “After what I went through with Trini, I can say with conviction that I’m qualified to say that things happen that are out of our realm of knowledge.”
A few seconds later, Stephen’s jaw opened in surprise. His eyes widened. “I get it.” He followed with a slow nod of understanding.
Jacob pressed his lips together before offering a wry smile. “Uh, yeah. I assumed the same about Trini. Because we were Amish and went to the same church, I thought I knew what went on inside her head.” Jacob shrugged. “Little did I know that she’d planned for a long time to leave our way of life.”
That very recollection stopped Stephen’s thoughts. “Uh-huh. Now I understand the doubt I detected in your voice.”
“I’ll tell you, Stephen, I want the same things you yearn for. Only thing is, I wasn’t privy to Trini’s thoughts. And by the same token, you, dear brother, aren’t privy to Serenity’s.”
As if on cue, they turned and headed toward the house. Suddenly, Stephen realized that his brother was right. Stephen had been thinking only of what he wanted. Without Serenity’s input.
As they passed the wishing well, Jacob stepped back to place his hand, with affection, on the beautiful, old brick structure. On the opposite side, Stephen touched the rope with the bucket. He wasn’t sure why.
Jacob’s voice was firm but held a tinge of uncertainty. “Never underestimate a woman’s goals. And as far as Serenity’s dreams?” They locked gazes. “You’ll never know what they are”—he put his arm around Stephen’s shoulders and whispered—“unless you ask her.”
Early the following morning, Serenity bent to avoid bumping her head on the chicken house ceiling. As she reached for an egg, a white-feathered bird ruffled its feathers in protest. Dust clouded the space in front of Serenity, and for several moments, she closed her eyes while the dirty haze settled.
The constant clucking and the loose feathers floating in the air before landing on the nest sparked an amusing thought. At least I don’t have to live in this house.
The corners of her mouth lifted into a thankful grin, but she was careful to keep her lips pressed together for fear of inhaling the filthy dust.
With one careful motion, she balanced the eggs in her basket. Then she finished up her least favorite job. She still found it interesting that a big, strong man like Stephen loved to bird-watch. She wondered if he liked chickens too.
It wasn’t as if Serenity disliked the white creatures. Still, she certainly didn’t like them. But they can’t help that they’re dirty. We’re all Gott’s creatures. And they served their purpose in life.
She headed toward the door, holding her heavy basket at the bottom with both hands, and carefully ducked at the entrance to step down without bumping her head.Outside, she stood up straight and gratefully breathed in the warm, fresh July air. As she made her way to her house, Angel, gave a loud, demanding whinny from behind her. She turned and explained what she was doing. She wasn’t sure why. “I’ll pamper you after I clean and refrigerate these eggs. Sorry, Angel, but first things first.”
Her statement didn’t seem to appease him. He let out a series of whinnies and stamped his hooves. This time she didn’t acknowledge his protests. He needs to learn patience.
Inside, she warmed faucet water, wet a soft washcloth, wrung it out, and began wiping the eggs clean. After she’d carefully placed them in the refrigerator, she proceeded to her washroom and changed into her spare dress. She made a point never to run it through the hand wringer for fear of tearing it. She placed her dirty dress in sudsy water to soak.
Back in the kitchen, she glanced at the wall clock. I’ve got to get to the shop. There’s a funeral in two days, and by the looks of the number of plant orders, it will be a big one.
She proceeded to the kitchen, glancing toward the living room shelf to admire her prized garage sale buy. She smiled. It’s inspiration. She considered its intrigue and parted her lips in awe. The Amish, in general, didn’t focus on or covet material things. Neither did she. But to Serenity, this small, hand-carved, painted horse was unique and special simply because of the interesting, sad story behind the particular sale where she’d discovered it.
As she took in the intricate details of her buy, she wondered about the man with Alzheimer’s. The horse was a sentimental reminder of him. Since that sale, she’d fervently kept him in her prayers. She yearned to visit him. And she longed to pray at his bedside for Gott to rid his incurable illness. Serenity believed in miracles and that the most powerful strength behind them was prayer.
As she walked back to the barn to get Angel out and hitch the buggy to him, a chicken darted in front of her. She stopped, nearly tripping over the white-feathered body. In the distance, she glimpsed the edge of the woods—the very timber where she and Stephen had shared wonderful conversations. The thought of him prompted a smile.
Inside the entrance to her barn, she stopped. As she pulled the wooden lock upward, she frowned. I assure everyone I’m not afraid. Maybe I’m trying to convince myself that I’m not. Because every time I come out here, something inside me tugs me back to that bad day.
With one swift, forceful motion, she slid open the large heavy door and entered the old structure. She watched as Angel stepped in from the outside. When he joined Serenity at the gate, she ran her hand with great affection across the side of his long nose. The animal closed his large eyes until she stopped. Then his lids flipped open.
“Are you ready to take me into town?”
As usual, he threw back his neck and let out a neigh.
Serenity stepped to the wall closest to her and removed the harness from its large hook. Angel held still while she placed it on him. Then she added the bridle and bit, opened the gate, and led him outside. Hitching Angel to her buggy didn’t take long. She’d done it hundreds of times. Besides, her horse loved taking her places. When he did so, it was sort of a bonding time between them.
On the blacktop, Serenity’s thoughts migrated from her standardbred to the newly discovered eyeglasses. They were in a lab. I pray that there’s a full fingerprint on them. And that the print’s owner is in the database so he can be identified.
But her mind quickly drifted from the glasses to Stephen and the unexplained feeling she’d experienced when they’d been so close in her barn yesterday. While she pictured his soft, endearing expression, the pulse in her wrist picked up speed. Her heart skipped a beat.
Stephen. I really enjoy being with him. I’m quite independent, yet when he’s with me, I feel a welcome sense of security. With him, I’m comfortable. It’s a nice feeling, like when I put on my knit slippers in the winter. He’s protective. And he’s been open about his longing to protect me permanently. When we locked gazes yesterday, his eyes mesmerized me. The soft brown color of his eyes was so heavenly, I temporarily forgot what we were doing there.
But we can’t be together. I need to tell him why. And soon.
It was the right time. At least it seemed like it. Upstairs in his room, Stephen could see Gabe from his window as his brother left their long drive in his open buggy. As Stephen took in what he could see of his eldest sibling, he smiled. He’d never forget how Gabe had tried his best to offer advice about Serenity. Honestly, his heartfelt input had been gut. Jacob had offered pointers too. But Stephen still believed a female’s opinion was necessary before he seriously revisited a permanent relationship with Serenity.
The next time he broached the subject of a happily-ever-after with her, he didn’t want any surprises. Still, his instincts told him that she was hesitating to commit to him. He needed to know how to respond if she had an unexpected situation like Jacob’s wife before they’d married. Stephen stuck his hands deep in his pockets and looped his thumbs over the openings.
Right now, though, he was alone and finally, after over a year, ready to visit his late aendi’s room. He didn’t intend to clear it out. Or even clean it. What he yearned for was just to be in the private quarters where she’d loved to spend time.
I’ve got to do this for closure. The memorial garden that was positioned directly below him warmed Stephen’s heart. He would never reveal to anyone just how lost he’d been without his aendi. His relationship with her was personal and private. Something that he’d never allow anyone close to. Every memory of her was precious. Special. And he never, ever wanted to lose sight of the memories she’d planted in his heart over many years. He yearned for the recollections of those times to grow so he could eventually share them with his own kinder.
He stepped from his room to hers and stopped at her door, which was closed. Before he entered the place she’d considered the heart of her home, he paused. To his knowledge, neither Gabe nor Jacob had been in this very special chamber. Or maybe they had but hadn’t mentioned it. Perhaps they too had been moved to feel her presence. He lifted his shoulders in a shrug.
The door handle clicked when he turned it. With slow, deliberate motion, he pushed the entrance open. The hinges let out a light squeak. He stopped and blinked at the sunshine streaming in through her window. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was her simple blue curtains pulled back and attached to hooks.
This particular window allowed a bird’s-eye view of the woods between the Lantz property and Serenity Miller’s land. From where he stood on the second story, the vast area looked a bit different than usual. Instead of glimpsing it from the ground up, he now viewed it from the treetops.
He swallowed an emotional knot while taking in the exquisite beauty of the lush green foliage, the gigantic old oaks, and the pines. He’d never actually realized how dense the area was. He imagined that from an airplane, one wouldn’t be able to see much besides the thickness of the plants and trees. That is, in the summer.
While he looked around, he thought of Serenity and smiled, recalling how close to his aendi he’d been. His mouth eventually curved in amusement while he acknowledged that his body warmed with great love and affection whenever he thought of the town florist.
But this was his aendi’s room. And that he’d entered it was evidence that he’d taken a big step in addressing his grief. His gaze landed on the simple queen-sized oak bed and two handsewn pillowcases of different shades of blue.
The quilt revealed images of horses. He was certain that the standardbreds she’d taken in over many years had inspired the details. Stephen stood there in silence, quietly imagining his aendi falling asleep every night with the soft covering. She’d loved her horses. In fact, she’d considered them family.
As he remained very still, he breathed in the relaxing scent of lavender. Then he noticed ornate, delicate-looking, purple sachets on her writing area. A beautiful arrangement of dried flowers acted as the centerpiece for the desk. Automatically, he wondered if Serenity had made it.
He then focused on the cream-colored walls. Behind her bed hung a cross-stitch of what looked like the front of her barn. Slow steps took him to the art, where he squinted to see her initials, ML, sewn in the lower right-hand corner.
As he glanced around the room’s four corners, he sighed with compassion. Compared to his late aendi’s room, his own seemed empty. He couldn’t speak for every Amish person, but typically the rooms of Plain Faith members—at least those he’d glimpsed—were more austere.
But Aendi Margaret’s … He let out a low whistle while noticing numerous cards placed throughout her bedroom. There must be twenty. Some were on her desk. Others were taped on her four walls. And a few decorated the small pegboard in front of him.
With one slow, cautious motion, he opened a card that showed a hand-drawn horse. Obviously, this is from someone who knows her very well.
He touched the corner and studied the detailed pencil sketch. He opened it to see the words Happy Birthday. He narrowed his brows at Serenity’s signature.
Then he glanced again at the picture, wondering if she’d been the artist. If she had, she was even more talented than he’d already known. He continued to check out the cards from his sister-in-law, Trini, from Abigail, and from various church members.
Some had merely signed their names. Others had penned heartfelt messages: “Margaret, Happy Birthday! We wish you many more years filled with excellent health! Love, Jesse and Mary Yoder.”
He continued reading the handwritten messages. As he did, emotion welled inside him, and he blinked back tears. The second hand of a small battery-operated clock circled all twelve numbers, and he realized he’d lost track of time. He drummed his fingertips against the desk.
It became clearer to him how extremely special his late aendi had been to so many. Numerous messages came from people he’d never heard of. And given their non-Amish names, he acknowledged that Margaret’s goodness had obviously extended to many lives.
He turned and made his way toward the west wall, where a pair of teal knitting needles and a purple ball of yarn topped a magazine pile. From the looks of it, she’d started a pair of slippers. He wondered who she’d intended them for.
He touched the semifinished project and closed his eyes a moment in great appreciation of experiencing something so soft and obviously personal of his aendi’s. There’s something about being in her room. It’s as if she’s telling me what she did before her sudden death. Being amid her personal belongings makes me feel close to her in an odd yet wonderful way.
He moved the project to the comforter and scanned the magazine pile. With one careful motion, he made himself comfortable on the edge of her bed. As he did so, he continued to enjoy the light, comforting scent of lavender. He looked down to his left and glimpsed a purple heart sachet between her pillows. He smiled a little and plucked the top issue of the Good Samaritan from the stack.
Immediately, he recognized the title. Mamm was an avid reader of this particular Christian magazine. So were numerous other church members. Then he glanced at the date and pressed his lips together thoughtfully. It’s on top. But why? This issue is nearly two decades old.
Curious, he skimmed through the pages until he discovered something she’d highlighted in yellow. It was the popular Christian advice column where “Charlotte” answered people who wrote to her for advice. It was common knowledge, at least to Mamm, that “Charlotte” responded with well-thought-out answers, utilizing scripture.
He held the magazine closer and read out loud:
Dear Reader,
I am sorry to hear that your brother has left his wife and children. It must be devastating for the family. I’ve given this situation much thought, and unfortunately, this is an occasion where I’m not able to offer you something that will bring a happy ending to you or your family.
But here’s what I can say: Multiple Bible verses speak about forgiveness. Realize that simply forgiving your brother won’t bring him back. It won’t provide your nephews the role model they need and deserve. But there’s a poignant Scripture about forgiveness in the book of Luke, chapter seven. It tells us that forgiveness is a path to love.
Ultimately, here on earth, we cannot control many things that happen. But I believe that through our trials and tribulations, God teaches us, and in that process we become closer to Him.
My favorite verse about the problems we face rests in the book of John, where we’re reminded that there will be problems in this world but not to be discouraged, because God has overcome the world. My ending comment: forgiveness is a beautiful thing, and it’s only through forgiveness that you’ll truly heal.
All my best,
Charlotte
Absorbing the personal letter, Stephen laid the magazine on his lap and parted his lips in awe. As he considered what he’d just read, a bright beam of light soared in through the window opposite him. He didn’t look away. Nor did he blink. The revelation in front of him revealed many important elements.
Aendi Margaret requested advice. He sat very still for some time. Then it sank in how truly agonized she must have been when her own brother had left their family. Stephen had always believed that Mamm and his brothers had suffered most. Now his eyes had opened to how distraught the betrayal had left his late aendi. For one thing, Margaret’s printed message revealed how very distressed she’d been when Stephen’s daed had deserted him and his family—that Aendi Margaret had been in such dire need of answers, she’d turned to a well-known advice columnist for help.
While the bright ray of sunshine landed on the typed words, Stephen leaned back on the pillow. Still holding the advice column, a mélange of emotions whirled inside him. There was such chaos in his heart, he finally laid the magazine on the bed, stood, and stepped to the window.
As he took in the beautiful land that seemed to go on forever, homes that dotted the country, and woods that loomed between the Lantz property and the Miller dwelling, he rocked on his toes before shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. He took a deep breath.
Relax. It’s okay … But is it?
He pressed his lips together in a straight line. He focused on what he’d read. That his dear aendi had reached out to a total stranger for consolation prompted a painful knot in his throat. For many years, he’d looked to her for strength. To him, Aendi Margaret had been the solid rock that had remained courageous and strong in faith when everyone else around them had sought answers.
Now he acknowledged that she had been as devastated and helpless as the rest of the family when her brother had left. When she’d stayed in Lancaster, helping them regain composure, inside she’d been as burdened as he and his brothers.
Aendi Margaret, who did you lean on? Who was your rock? A dull ache in his stomach tugged fiercely at Stephen as he realized the vulnerable person inside his tough, role model’s facade. She was a human being, just like the rest of us. She bore the same emotions. And what her brother did to us left her searching for answers.
While his gaze lingered on the barn, he imagined her finding solace in midst of the chaos. He could envision her feeding him and his two brothers every morning while their beloved mamm prayed for strength and guidance.
The very realization that Aendi Margaret had been just like the rest of them struck him with such strong ferocity that the truth suddenly changed him. How he wished that she were here to offer guidance and strength to Serenity as she recovered from the “bad day.” It hit him that the woman he yearned to be with the rest of his life was, perhaps in many ways, like his late aendi.
He’d been impressed at Serenity’s calmness and logic throughout the days after her barn incident. But now he imagined it was very possible that inside she agonized more than was discernible.
He paced to the bed and back to the window, where he studied the woodsy area. To him, his walks with Serenity on the dirt trail between their homes meant much more than birdwatching. After he’d begun his hikes with her about a year ago, his binoculars had become a mere prop.
Talking with her and sharing things had taken on a life of its own. Because when he conversed with the Pink Petal owner, their discussions and the thoughts behind them had enriched his life to the point where their time together had become as vital to him as drinking water. As important to him as eating breakfast and attending church every week.
Now that he’d been exposed to something that his late aendi had obviously considered very private, he realized that he must care for the florist with the very same nurturing that Aendi Margaret had never had but had desperately needed.
He barely saw the trees and thick foliage that encompassed the beautiful gifts of nature as his mind focused on the woman who’d so lovingly and generously gifted him and his brothers everything she’d owned.
As he reminisced about his precious relationship with her, he could recall time after time when he’d requested her help about something he couldn’t understand. He’d sought out her advice on so many things that didn’t even matter. He shook his head.
But did she ever lean on me? For long, thoughtful moments, he tried to remember one occasion when Margaret had approached him for assistance. Try harder. You talked to her so many times over your twentysomething years. Surely you helped her …
Then it came to him. She had asked his opinion on what to make for dinner. Or his thoughts regarding a certain church message. Even if he’d predict that the crops would do well. But as far as actually heeding personal advice?
The woods continued to blur while his shoulders tensed. His fingers cupped the hems of his pockets. He continued to think while he returned to her cards, which had obviously held great importance for her—at least enough that she had displayed them in her private room.
He looked at the birthday card Serenity had given to Margaret, and at last, he focused on the beautiful, detailed pencil drawing. His heart warmed but also ached. The woman who’d so graciously and generously offered him, his brothers, and their mamm so much love and comfort hadn’t once come to Stephen with a personal issue.
I never realized it. Aendi Margaret, you continue to teach me. Even though you’re not here. I won’t tell anyone what I’ve learned from you today. Never. But know that I feel an even closer bond with you than I imagined possible. And my respect for you is the highest ever. While I’ve learned about you today, I’ve also acknowledged something very important about Serenity. She too lives alone. She too makes it a large part of her life to bring joy to others by creating special arrangements for total strangers. But you’ve made me extremely aware that even those who appear strong need comfort and strength. And because of you, my dear aendi, I’m going to make sure that Serenity knows she can lean on me. I’ll take Jacob’s advice: I’ll learn everything I can about her. But most of all, I need to reach her heart so that very soon, Serenity Miller will be Serenity Lantz.
Stephen knew that something was keeping Serenity from a man-to-woman relationship with him. He yearned to talk to a woman about how to help Serenity open up to him. His brothers could only offer so much. And he didn’t want to talk about his personal feelings with Trini or Abby. Then he thought of Margaret’s letter to Charlotte.
He made his way to the stack of magazines, picked up the top copy, and proceeded to Margaret’s desk. He pulled an envelope, a pen, and a blank piece of paper from her drawer, sat down, and addressed the envelope to Charlotte’s column. Then he wrote a heartfelt letter.