thinking about that day with the roses and wine.
“But that was one of the best days before the end.”
Saturday morning she fought the urge to check the mail, until she couldn't take it anymore. At nine, she bounded out the door.
“Pam, you're up early!” Joan hollered across the lawn.
She gritted her teeth. “Not really.”
“Oh. I didn't think you were a morning person.” Joan hummed a loud tune and peered over the bushes between them.
“I am.”
“Expecting something important in the mail?”
“Not really.” Pam forced a smile.
Damn. It's like she's reading my mind.
She tried to look nonchalant as she grabbed the pile from the box and headed back inside.
“Enjoy your weekend,” Pam sang out.
“Of course. You too.”
“Grr. I can't stand her,” Pam muttered as she slammed the front door. She sank into her favorite chair and looked at the first piece of mail.
Junk.
And more junk.
And then...
“Another letter. Ross, you devil, you.” She grinned, her heart doing a slow dive like a practiced Olympian.
The whole thing made her feel like a seventeen-year-old. The loneliness she battled with most days threatened to slip away at the thought of a new love affair—even one with an old lover.
Not a bad trick at forty.
She groaned at the thought of how the years had slipped away and at all the failed relationships in her life. The thought of Ross would always be linked with her younger years when she still felt adventurous and not old and stifled by routine. Taking a deep breath, Pam opened the envelope with trembling fingers.
Pam, I was so glad to hear back from you. I want to see you again. I can't forget the chemistry between us and how you laughed at all my jokes, which I know weren’t funny, and the way you always listened when I was telling you about the stupidest thing at work. And I can go on. I remember how you looked when we made love, the curves of your body, the look in your eyes. I've never had that with another woman—not before, not after. Say you'll meet me. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted. I was young and stupid then. I'm not now, and I'll try harder to make you happy.
R
“Woah, baby.”
She stared at Fluffems for a long moment.
But the sex wasn't that good... at least it wasn't for me.
Laughter bubbled up inside her. She let it go, and it shook her whole body.
“Oh, my God. Who knew I was a sex goddess?”
Fluffems growled.
“I know. Me neither.”
She bit her lip, picking the letter back up from where she'd dropped it in her lap.
“This is so strange. No one writes letters anymore, well, no one except grandmothers, maybe. And after seven years of not hearing from him.”
Pam stood. I've got other things to worry about today.
During her workout at the gym and mundane errands she had to run, Ross's face swam into her mind's eye.
Should I give him another chance? Maybe the sex will be hotter this time, and if it's not, he's the only man who ever made me laugh. I'm so serious.
The thought sent her into giggles, and a man in the grocery checkout line gave her a frown.
On the way home, she kept thinking of how easy it had been to smile with Ross, how happy she'd been with him and how uptight she was now.
It's like every day is marking time.
She hurried home to compose a quick note and drop it in the mailbox before the mailman came by.
* * * *
Dear
“But that was one of the best days before the end.”
Saturday morning she fought the urge to check the mail, until she couldn't take it anymore. At nine, she bounded out the door.
“Pam, you're up early!” Joan hollered across the lawn.
She gritted her teeth. “Not really.”
“Oh. I didn't think you were a morning person.” Joan hummed a loud tune and peered over the bushes between them.
“I am.”
“Expecting something important in the mail?”
“Not really.” Pam forced a smile.
Damn. It's like she's reading my mind.
She tried to look nonchalant as she grabbed the pile from the box and headed back inside.
“Enjoy your weekend,” Pam sang out.
“Of course. You too.”
“Grr. I can't stand her,” Pam muttered as she slammed the front door. She sank into her favorite chair and looked at the first piece of mail.
Junk.
And more junk.
And then...
“Another letter. Ross, you devil, you.” She grinned, her heart doing a slow dive like a practiced Olympian.
The whole thing made her feel like a seventeen-year-old. The loneliness she battled with most days threatened to slip away at the thought of a new love affair—even one with an old lover.
Not a bad trick at forty.
She groaned at the thought of how the years had slipped away and at all the failed relationships in her life. The thought of Ross would always be linked with her younger years when she still felt adventurous and not old and stifled by routine. Taking a deep breath, Pam opened the envelope with trembling fingers.
Pam, I was so glad to hear back from you. I want to see you again. I can't forget the chemistry between us and how you laughed at all my jokes, which I know weren’t funny, and the way you always listened when I was telling you about the stupidest thing at work. And I can go on. I remember how you looked when we made love, the curves of your body, the look in your eyes. I've never had that with another woman—not before, not after. Say you'll meet me. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted. I was young and stupid then. I'm not now, and I'll try harder to make you happy.
R
“Woah, baby.”
She stared at Fluffems for a long moment.
But the sex wasn't that good... at least it wasn't for me.
Laughter bubbled up inside her. She let it go, and it shook her whole body.
“Oh, my God. Who knew I was a sex goddess?”
Fluffems growled.
“I know. Me neither.”
She bit her lip, picking the letter back up from where she'd dropped it in her lap.
“This is so strange. No one writes letters anymore, well, no one except grandmothers, maybe. And after seven years of not hearing from him.”
Pam stood. I've got other things to worry about today.
During her workout at the gym and mundane errands she had to run, Ross's face swam into her mind's eye.
Should I give him another chance? Maybe the sex will be hotter this time, and if it's not, he's the only man who ever made me laugh. I'm so serious.
The thought sent her into giggles, and a man in the grocery checkout line gave her a frown.
On the way home, she kept thinking of how easy it had been to smile with Ross, how happy she'd been with him and how uptight she was now.
It's like every day is marking time.
She hurried home to compose a quick note and drop it in the mailbox before the mailman came by.
* * * *
Dear
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