Runaway Groom (10 page)

“It isn’t like that, Carnie. Besides, he isn’t even telling the truth…I mean, the letter thing—”

“Speaking of the letter thing…” Carnie paused to chomp more cake and sip her milk. “Have you done any research on that? You, Miss dot every ‘I’ and cross every ‘T’, have you looked into this at all?”

“What’s to look into? I mean, c’mon. If he wrote me letters for a decade…I can see one or two getting lost in the mail, but a decade worth of letters and I never got even one?”

“Why would he make up such an extreme lie though, knowing that you could so easily refute it? I know our post office sucks but have you even gone and checked it out?”

“I—”

It got so quiet the song of the tree frogs made it to the deck.

“So, are we going to the post office or are we pretending I didn’t point that out?” Carnie finished off her cake and looked expectantly at Abigail.

It was the one way to prove once and for all that the letter story was bullshit.

“Yeah, we’re going to the post office.”

Carnie fist pumped. “I’ll grab my purse.”

Chapter Fourteen

March 7, 2009

Abs,

Do you remember our song? It was playing on the radio today on my way to work. Made me remember the prom. I can’t believe I asked you to marry me at the prom. Looking back, yeah, that was lame.

I would do it differently today.

I found a story you wrote online.

One thing hasn’t changed.

Baby, I’m amazed by you.

B

The local post office, run by the Johnston family for as long as Abigail could remember, was two rooms and famous for slow mail. Ernie Johnston was rumored to have been in love with her grandma and was…

A loon.

No matter how nice Abigail wanted to be about it, the man, seventy at least, was sort of the town whackadoodle. Almost as soon as Abby could drive, she began toting her important mail twelve miles over to the next town, bigger and with a better post office. She hadn’t actually set foot in the local one, that she could remember, her entire adult life.

But she saw Ernie. Everyone did. He still hand delivered most of the mail in town, only driving for those he absolutely couldn’t reach on foot. He also was known for peeking, regardless of the legal ramifications that his job was supposed to imply.

People got away with more shit in a small town, where everyone had everyone else’s back, than anywhere else.

When the bell on the door rang signaling their entrance, shuffling could be heard from the back room and Abigail darted a look at Carnie before Ernie managed to make it to the counter to peer at them with eyes gone somewhat milky with age.

He smelled like old fish, looked like a pale corpse dressed in too-short shorts and shook like a leaf in the wind. “Abigail and Carnation! Good to see you girls. You have something that needs out today?”

Abby put one hand out to catch Carnie’s arm before she could go into a rant about her stoned seventies parents’ idea of a name. “No, I wanted to talk to you, Ernie. About my mail.”

Ernie shuffled from foot to foot and didn’t meet her eyes. “What about it, Abigail?”

“Braxton Dean moved back to town and he said the weirdest thing to me…”

Before she could finish, the old man flushed red.

Up to this point, Abigail didn’t really think this trip would prove anything but Braxton was a lying son of a bitch who deserved a swift kick to the nut sack. The flush, however, screamed guilt, and she wondered if it meant there were actual letters.

Letters she never received.

“Ernie?” Her voice squeaked a little.

“Come sit down. We’ll talk about it.” Waving them behind the swinging door, they followed the mailman to a room filled with boxes and mail miscellany. It also had one old recliner and a couch situated around a small coffee table covered in magazines circa the nineties.

Once they were all seated, the old man reached for a still steaming cup of coffee he’d been obviously enjoying before they showed up. “At first, I saw the logic when your mother said she wanted the letters to stop being delivered. I couldn’t destroy them, not even at her request, though it seemed a kinder thing to do than make you relive being left at the altar like that boy did. Dean family was a good family, that Braxton boy should have known better than to leave you like that.”

Abigail bit her lip, stopping words that threatened when he paused to sip his drink. Ernie was old. She’d spent years taking care of her grandma. She knew rushing the elderly didn’t get the story out any faster.

“After a few weeks of not delivering though, Agatha came in and asked about it. Seems Katherine slipped up and she told my Aggie what was going on. Your grandma, she was a spitfire right till the end, even if the disease did fog up her memory a bit. She said to me to keep them. She knew your mother would destroy any that I tried to deliver to the house. She said she wasn’t sure how much longer she would remember one thing from the next. She already had a couple of those little strokes, they were scrambling up her brain something terrible. You know that.”

He waved the coffee cup, sloshing a bit over the side of the mug. Automatically, Abigail reached for a napkin and handed it to him. “I know.”

Grief stung, remembering Grandma Miller and how muddled those last months were for her.

“So, my Aggie, she said to hold on to them if they came in. And they did. Always did. I couldn’t do what Aggie asked me or destroy them like your mother wanted. It’s against the law. I’m a postal worker. So I delivered them, even knowing your mother probably destroyed each and every one.”

Chapter Fifteen

January 7
^th
, 2011

Abasaurusrex,

I heard about your grandma.

I can’t imagine how much you’re hurting right now. I know how much she meant to you. Hell, she meant a lot to me. I’m remembering her today, sitting on a dock and fishing. I took off work.

I couldn’t work, not when I heard. I hurt missing her and I hurt for you.

All I could think of was her catching us up in the pine tree behind Demshar’s place back when we were nine. I thought she was gonna take a stick to our hides, she was so mad. But she didn’t. She took us back to her place, made strawberry milk and gave us cookies.

You went off, full speed, once you’d eaten, into the backyard.

She was looking at me and I felt like I was supposed to say something. So I told her I was sorry for climbing that old tree.

“Braxton Dean,” she said, “My Abbiegirl, she’ll follow you anywhere. She thinks you know what you’re doing because you’re a little older than she is. You and I both know you aren’t more than a boy and sometimes boys don’t have a lick of sense. You need to remember she is a girl, she is breakable and take care of her. I love that girl. I think you do too. You take care of her.”

All I could do was swallow real hard and say, “Yes, ma’am.”

Abs, I’ve let her down. I’ve let me down. I’m not there now and I know you need me.

I wish I did better by her. And you.

And me.

I love you, Abs.

Brax

“Well, that explains a lot.” Carnie followed her out to the car, but Abby waved a hand at her.

“No, actually, it doesn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Carnie slid into the seat and clicked her belt on. “We know there are letters. They were delivered to your mom and she destroyed them, mystery solved.”

“Okay.” Slamming her own door closed, Abigail turned the key. “So, where are the most recent ones
now
?”

“Your mom—”

“Hasn’t been fit to steal my mail for years.”

“Ooh.” Carnie bit her lip. “Mystery very not solved. So, where is our next clue, Abby Abby Doo?”

Rolling her eyes, Abigail pulled out with a squeal of tires. “My sister checks the mail.”

“Gracie wouldn’t…”

“Yeah.”

Pulling into her mother’s driveway, Abigail paused to punch the steering wheel.

“Is she home?” Carnie craned her neck at the other driveway.

“Yup.”

“Want me to go in with you?”

“Yup.”

Carnie sighed loudly. “Shit. I kind of hoped you’d say no.”

“Sorry. I’ll take the backup on this one.”

Together they crossed the yard and Abby knocked twice on the door. Grumbling from inside answered her.

The door popped open and Gracie stood, sports bra on crooked and hair dyed seven different colors, at least. As usual, a potent cocktail of swirling emotions—frustration, love, dislike—flooded Abby at just the sight of her sister.

“Oh, Abs. Thought you might be someone else. I guess you can come in…” Gracie spun on one bare foot and headed farther in the house. Her voice, not lowered to hide her words, trailed after her. “If you must.”

“I must. How goes the life of responsibility-free debauchery?”

Gracie snorted as she flopped sideways onto the beat-up leather sofa. “Fanfuckingtabulous. How goes life as a holier-than-thou martyr?”

“Peachy. Are you hung over?” Abigail carefully seated herself on the edge of a chair.

Gracie blinked heavily lined eyes that reminded Abigail painfully of her grandmother…if her grandmother had been a borderline alcoholic.

“I’m not hung over. God, why do you always have to be so judgy?”

“Why do you always have to be so self-centered? Have you even checked on Mom lately?”

Gracie closed her eyes and reclined on the couch. “Lord, no. Epic buzzkill. Epic.”

Carnie clamped a hand on Abigail’s shoulder. “Focus.”

Sighing, Abby pinched the bridge of her nose. “You check the mail.”

Gracie perked up, eyes narrowing as they focused on Abigail. “Yes, I do.”

“I went to the post office today. Braxton says—”

“Oh, fucking finally.” The snort from Gracie punctuated her sentence.

Abby released her nose and raised a brow. “What?”

“It’s about damn time, that’s what. I thought I’d be plucking letters out of the mail for the rest of my life.” Uncrossing her legs, Gracie stretched like a cat and adjusted her bra.

“You stole my letters?” Like a spike of pain, betrayal choked Abby and she couldn’t force more words out.

Gracie took advantage of the silence, filling it with words. “Yeah, Grams made me promise when she was on her deathbed that I’d collect them until you asked for them. Some crap about your heart not being open until then, I don’t know. I thought you’d never ask. I am so tired of checking the damn mail to pluck out letters—”

Bounding up and out of the room, Gracie showed her first real animation since they arrived. Abigail shot after her, catching her arm. “Seriously? You’ve been stealing my mail?”

“Yeah.” Gracie shrugged off her hand. “I had to.” Snapping her fingers in Abby’s face, she grumbled, “C’mon, sis, keep up, here.”

“Gracie, that’s against the law.”

“Yeah, you tell Grams that. She made me do it, like I said.” Yanking a box down from the top of a closet, she shoved it into Abigail’s arms. “If you sue me, I’ll plead insanity or some shit. Not that you can juice a beet, but whatever.”

Filled to the brim with letters, some looked old and some looked like they’d come in within the past few days. “Gracie, federal law. Just saying.”

“You’re going to sue your sister for obeying your grandmother’s last wish? Fine. Call the cops then. Gram wanted me to keep them so keep them I did. Now, get them the hell out of my house. I’m kind of sick of them taking up my closet space. These two boxes are yours too. Oh, and this blue crate…”

“That’s a milk crate. It’s illegal to—” Gracie silenced Abby with one hand.

“Bite me, Abby. God, you’d think you’d be grateful I kept the damn things. Mom would’ve pitched them.”

Meeting her sister’s eyes, Abigail paused. Heart welling with emotion, she reached out a hand to catch Gracie’s arm. “Thank you, Grace. I’m sorry I don’t come see you more.”

Smacking her hand away, Gracie rolled her eyes and shoved out of the hallway. “Cripes, now you’re going all emo. Let’s save the heart-to-heart sister moment, ‘kay?”

“I love you, Gracie.”

Gracie’s snort carried down the hall.

“So…” Carnie blew out a breath, fingering one of the letters. “Mystery solved.”

The top letter was dated ten years before. Pulling it out, Abigail stared at Braxton’s familiar handwriting. “Apparently.” Tears threatened and her fingers tightened around the envelope until her knuckles went white. “He wrote me?”

Carnie pulled her into a hug. “Yes, sweetie. He wrote you.”

Chapter Sixteen

September 11, 2011

Abby,

It’s been a decade since 9/11 and everything on the television has been about that tragedy. Everyone is talking about where they were that day and what they were doing.