Return to Sender - 7. Chapter 7 - Adam

CHAPTER 7 - Adam

It was in the first week of June that I received another letter from Kai. It’d been some ten days since I sent off my response. The noisy work was now mostly finished - at least the buzzsaws were gone - though there was the occasional hammering in the distance, a dull thump…thump, where they were replacing fence poles with new ones, and hammering on nails, where they were putting up the planks to those poles. This was not overly disruptive from where I was sitting in my study. The doors were open, a light breeze coming in from the lake. It was hot outside, in the high eighties. Arya was off harassing the workers. Oh, that breeze was nice.

The landscaper had delivered topnotch work as well: I couldn’t wait to see the garden in full bloom. They planted low hedges along the newly laid gravel paths, dividing it all up in plots. They even made some small hilly-type mounds to make it all, well…not flat. A contract was signed for maintenance, including mowing the grass behind the house. It was all coming together.

And last night, I sent off the manuscript of my new book to the editor. It wasn’t finished, not by a long shot: I’d receive it back with lots of notes and remarks, to polish and shave it further into shape. But I was hopeful that it’d be finished in time so that it could be released right before Christmas. Always good for sales.

All in all, though - not a bad week of work, if I say so myself, not bad at all! And for that, I reckoned I deserved a nice holiday. Tuscany beckoned, but not yet. Not in the heat of summer. Tuscany is better in the early fall, and that was a long way off still.

No. A series of small holidays, hunting for items to put into the upstairs rooms. I’d mentioned it to Kai in my last letter and the bug took hold. Hitch up the old wagon (my 2018 Buick LaCrosse), throw Arya in the backseat and explore the area. She enjoyed driving too, always wanting to poke her head out the window. She liked the wind in her face. I smiled. Yes, that was exactly what the doctor ordered.

Ugh! I do not like doctors - once they start poking around, they always find something - and from there, my thoughts immediately went to Kai, forced to spend his days cooped up in a small hospital room. At least I imagined it small. I’ve never been a patient, thankfully, not even in my youth.

The soft rumble of an approaching car reached my ears. At about the same time, Arya came racing by at top speed, a streak of white and gray, on her way to the front of the house.

Mailman?

**********

Yes. A reply letter had come and the battle of wills commenced.

“Be quiet, you,” I hissed at it, as it sat on my desk. “I will win this.”

Arya tilted her head somewhat, as if I was speaking to her. I pointed at the letter, her eyes following my finger.

“It’s being difficult. It wants to be opened. You hear it too, right?”

She tilted the other way, then gave a low growl and slinked off to her chair.

“Pfff…grump.”

**********

I won.

Occupying myself, I first went for a talk with the construction guys, then began preparations for dinner, the hours slowly ticking by. I deliberately did not go into the study. I then had that dinner in the dining room, and afterwards did the dishes. By then, twilight was on the way.

I did amend one thing, though; I didn’t light a fire. It was just too warm to still be doing that now, though one of the neighbors had a fire pit. I opted not to have that put into my yard because the forest was too close, in my opinion. I didn’t want to accidentally start a forest fire. It did look cozy though, when I saw it the other night, the flames dancing through the trees.

So I waited and, instead, set up on the deck with candles. Together with the light coming from a nearby window, it would work. Glass of wine poured, I added a small plate of cucumber slices with mozzarella balls. My alternative stage was set: let the envelope slicing games begin.

The 18th century letter opener had a vengeful comeback and I slipped the letter out. Some four pages.

Dear Adam,

Three weeks? You make a wounded man wait that long for some literary sustenance? You go too far, Sir! Such a display of poor judgment invokes serious ire. One thinks of quartered limbs as a fitting punishment…

Oh, alright, I give, you win. I can’t write English medieval indignation, and imagining any kind of harm befalling you is unimaginable. But yours made me smile. Thank you: I enjoyed your ‘feeble attempt at comedy’. Very much. But as with your letter, there is a grain of truth in the above; I found myself becoming very grumpy when I did not receive any Adam and Arya news in a, what I thought to be, appropriate time window.

Haha. I actually thought he did a better job than mine there. And it was very nice to read that greeting. Dear Adam. I liked that. I would reciprocate.

You are a bad, BAD man, making me wait three whole weeks for a reply! I toyed with the idea of doing the same but fortunately for you, I am not a bad, BAD man. I am, in fact, a very happy, HAPPY man, now that I’m at Walter Reed.

He was at Walter Reed.

Oh gosh, he was so close! Walter Reed was like a one or one-and-a-half hour drive from here. Slowly lowering the letter, my heartbeat sped up. He no longer was in San Antonio…Kai was here. He was here!
Having joined me on the deck, Arya lifted her head and the movement made me turn toward her.

“He’s here!”

She perked up, looking at the door.

“No, not right now, you silly goose,” I chuckled, pointing towards the north direction. “There. He’s probably having din-din right now.”

At the word din-din, her ears swiveled.

“Stop it, that was papa’s bad. Shouldn’t have said that. Sorry, baby.”

She laid her head back down on her paws.

I kept looking toward the north, the letter momentarily forgotten, as if he somehow would come stalking out of the trees. Silly of course, but oh, that would be so nice. He’d sit down here with me, and we would talk for hours, the candles burning low and flickering out once spent. Then we’d move inside, to the chesterfields and continue there until morning light. Sighing deeply, I continued to read.

I arrived here on the 26th of May. My brother and sister were waiting for me! I’m not ashamed to admit that I had a good cry with them. Pardon my French but it was so fucking good to see them! I’ve not seen them for a long time. They couldn’t visit regularly, though Kellan came over to Europe, right after I arrived in Germany, and Megan visited me in San Antonio, twice. Now that I’m finally closer to our home state, I get to see them on a regular schedule, every Sunday.

He needed no excuse for his ‘French’. If the word is apt, it is apt. I struggled with it when I wrote my first book because the scene really called for explicit wording. It wasn’t until my editor told me that, that I felt comfortable just writing what came to me. Maybe that’s why reviews of my books usually contain the word ‘raunchy’. And maybe that was also the reason they sold so well. Ha!

His brother and sister would be going there again the day after tomorrow, then. I was happy for him. In a previous letter, he’d alluded to not having seen them, before he was wounded and still deployed, for almost seven months. And that, pardon MY French, is a fucking long time.

I don’t have any family. When my nan died, she was the last. There are no aunts or uncles, no nieces or nephews. But I remember my parents, thanks to nan, who kept their memory alive in me.

Are you Jewish? I noted the menorah in the dining room.

No, I am not. That was a find during one of my mini-vacations, as was the sideboard that it stood on.

You’ve done a stellar job of redecorating, I hardly recognize It. I love the living room especially - it is so light now. It really opens up the space and your taste is impeccable! It should be an absolute pleasure to live there, as much as it was a pleasure for me, growing up. It’s a wonderful area with a close knit community - one of those places where you could still leave your door open at night. I’m not suggesting you do that from now on, absolutely not, but I’m saying that you probably still can and nothing would happen. If you ever forget, the neighbors will keep an eye out. Have you met them yet?

I did, yes. Several by now, including the two ladies I met during walks with Arya, and later brought over a nice pie and a casserole. Very kind. And very nosy! They somehow invited themselves in, going oooh - aaah while I (grudgingly) gave them a small downstairs tour, then subsequently got sucked into a bout of local gossip. I couldn’t resist and you learn a lot from keeping your ears open. My afternoon was wasted but with a nice aftereffect - I felt welcomed to the neighborhood.

Ever since, I met others, some blatantly curious, coming to look at what the workers were doing, the landscaping being done and offering unwanted advice. But once they introduced themselves, I quickly changed my opinion to that they meant well. Now I pretty much had a conversation every morning, talking over the fence with one or sometimes two. It was nice! And the men were worse gossips than the women!

- - Had I heard about Mrs. Masterson? Passed away in the night, found by a delivery guy in the morning, right on her front lawn, face down in her fishpond. Oh yeah, could I believe it? Only had a sister who lived far away, so the house would probably go up for sale. The place had been far too big for an old woman alone anyway. It needed a large family, with all those rooms up there. Yeah, I’ll come in for a cuppa Joe, might as well. Oh, and had I already heard about that damn cat from the Hedley’s, that stole the steaks right off the counter over at the Kent place? No? Well, her fault for leaving the window open. No, that wouldn’t happen here, because I had a dog. Nice one too, it didn’t bark. Here, have some cake, doggy. Oh, you give her waffles? Never heard that before. Oh look, she gulps ‘em down. Imagine that… - -

And there my mornings went. But I quickly came to like it. It’s exactly what I want, even if it can be disruptive to my days. I wouldn’t dream of changing it. Nothing better than going outside and from afar, hear a yell. ‘Adam, goodmorning!’

They’re a harmless, likable bunch. We always got sodas or a cone of ice cream in the summer, hot cocoa or a bowl of soup in the fall and winter.

As for that jetty - I’m glad that it’s being repaired and the boat removed. It sprung a leak during a storm, quite a few years ago. I can’t wait to see the results of all the work you described.

I’d make some pictures for him. Or he could just come over and see for himself. He was close enough now!

Lowering the letter, I stared at the candles flickering. Wouldn’t that be great, if he came over? I’d very much like to meet him. Conversing with him through the letters was very enjoyable but how amazing would it be to talk about all these things with him, live and in the flesh?

Yes. Yes, that settled it for me. I would extend the invitation once more.

“Ready for a visitor, baby?” I asked Arya, who raised her head again. “I think he would like to meet you.”
Her tail swished and she stood, coming over and putting her head on my leg. I tickled her between the ears. “And he might like you too. If you behave. Can you do that?”

Hmprf.

I took that as a yes and continued reading while patting her head.

My recovery is going very well - thank you for asking! As I’m writing to you, I'm awaiting results from a scan they did. I’m having an issue with my right leg. After some exertion, it refuses to cooperate fully, causing quite a bit of discomfort. Doc told me what he thinks is the issue with my right leg (he suspects scar tissue is pressing on the nerve), just awaiting confirmation. I may have an appointment with the surgeons’ knife again in the near future but it’s minor. If it’s resolved, I might even be able to walk without a cane. At least my wheelchair days are long behind me and I can manage quite well on my own by now. Just don’t ask me to hike through those woods - that is a hurdle I can’t yet take. But, given time and, as I seem to remember I mentioned in the letter to my father, I should make a full recovery.

That was wonderful news! For a second, when he wrote about having to go under the knife again, I held my breath but expelled a relieved one now.

And once I’m released, the plan is to go live with my sister Megan, for a while at least. She’s a nurse, so that might come in handy! She can wash my butt!

I chuckled. Silly man.

It’ll be tight quarters for a while but we’ll make it work. And she insisted. Who am I to deny my own sister her brother’s presence? That would be rude of me.

Or he could stay here…

I perked up. Should I offer that? I certainly had the space. Oh, but stairs. Would he be able to manage that? Slowly putting the letter down, I took a sip of wine.

Once the idea took root in my head, I forgot all about the letter and sat there thinking. I was still doing that when the candles one by one flickered out.