Edith and the Mysterious Stranger (11 page)

“Uh-huh.”

“What did you say?”

“I was telling you that I
loved you beyond words and that I was grateful you chose me as your
husband. I would be
nothing without you, Sweetheart. You
make life worth living.”

Melinda smiled at his confessions. “But I
thought you weren’t a sweet talker.”

“Well, I fibbed so I could sound tough in front
of Edith.”

Melinda laughed and cuddled up in his arms.
Nestling her head under his chin, she closed her eyes. She felt his
arm wrap around her waist. It was such a safe feeling to be
snuggled in his arms, like there was nothing to worry about.

After a few seconds, she felt the movement of a
tiny infant exploring the small world inside of her. When the
definite thump of an infant’s foot punched against her ribs with
great force, she quickly opened her eyes.

“Oh, my.”

Gilbert looked down at her. “What?”

“This baby is going to be an active one when
it’s born, I can tell you that.”

“Did the baby kick again?”

Melinda nodded.

Gilbert furrowed his eyebrows and said in a tone
of disappointment, “Melinda, I just can’t believe it. Every time it
happens, I miss it.”

Melinda smiled at his downcast expression and
rolled on her back. Then she took Gilbert’s hand and gently placed
it on top of her round belly.

“Just wait.”

Gilbert rose up on his elbow and watched
intently. Melinda was almost six months along, and he still had not
felt the baby’s movement. Each night, he would cuddle up to his
wife and lay his hand on her belly, waiting for some sort of
movement, but after a while he would fall asleep.

One minute passed and there was nothing. Two
minutes passed and still nothing. After three minutes, he gave
up.

“Well, I’ve got to get up and get started
for the day. It’s getting late. Maybe the little rascal will do
something later on in the day.”

Just as Gilbert pulled his hand away, the
baby gave two large thumps that even he could see by looking down
at her. His eyes widened and a grin pulled at the corners of his
mouth.

“The little rascal! Just as I take my hand
away, she gives a kick. But at least I was able to see her do it
this time. All the other times, she would wait until I wasn’t
looking.”

“She?”

“Yup. It has to be a girl.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s a stubborn little thing, not
allowing her Papa to feel a kick or two.”

Melinda burst into laughter, which brought
another grin to Gilbert’s face. He enjoyed making her laugh. Her
eyes would light up, and her cheeks would turn a rosy color. He
realized that she hadn’t laughed for a long time, ever since her
morning sickness and cramps began, and he was getting worried about
it. He had made her laugh now and that cheered him up.

Gilbert’s eyes held hers for a long moment
as he watched the joy in her expression. “You know, I would like to
see what you were like when you were a little girl.”

“I’ll see if I can arrange it,” she said
with a wink.

Realizing the time, he sat up, and swung his
feet to the floor. He walked over to the washstand and looked in
the mirror that hung from the wall. He pulled his fingers through
his unruly hair a couple times, and then poured water from the
white china pitcher into the basin.

As he lathered his face with shaving soap,
his wife watched intently. Shaving was a part of getting ready that
Melinda always enjoyed watching. She was not sure why, but it
always intrigued her.

“I’m taking David to Montpelier today to
pick up a shipment. Jenny will be here if you need her, and Edith
said she was stopping off to check up on you and see how things are
going.”

Melinda smiled. “You like David, don’t
you?”

After he took a few swipes across his face
with the razor, he answered. “Yup. I’ve gotten to know him quite
well. He’s a good kid. Sometimes I wonder if something is bothering
him, though. I can’t put my finger on it. It seems as if he’s
struggling with something deep down inside, and I’m not sure what
it is. Maybe we can have a talk on the way to Montpelier.” Then he
turned and smiled at Melinda. “Do you realize that you only have
three and a half more months to go?”

Melinda nodded. “If I could live a more
normal life and clean the house and do my usual routine, then it
would go by quicker. But as it is, each day I try to think of
something new to do that doesn’t bring on any serious cramps.”

Gilbert stopped shaving and grinned. “Or you
try to get away with more than you’re supposed to.”

Melinda frowned. “What do you mean by that,
Mister Roberts?”

There was a hint of
indignation in her voice, and he could hear it. Gilbert drew his
razor over the curves of his chin and then answered, “Well, simply
that you won’t listen to doctor’s orders or
mine
. You’re so self-willed that
it’s exasperating at times.”

Melinda’s eyes widened. “Self-willed? That’s not
fair.”

She could see the twinkle in his eyes as he
pulled the razor across his neck. He was having fun with her and
awaiting her reaction, which he knew he had triggered. That was one
word she hated since childhood and he knew it.

She slowly and awkwardly pushed herself up
to a sitting position, folded her arms indignantly, and waited for
an apology.

Gilbert finished shaving and wiped his face
clean with the towel lying next to the basin. When he turned and
saw her offended expression, he asked with feigned innocence,
“What?”

“Self-willed, you say?”

Gilbert chuckled. “Melinda, you know very
well that was one of the first things that drew me to you. You were
so darned independent and self-willed that I couldn’t resist you.
Being self-willed isn’t all bad, Sweetheart. I like your
independent nature but when it comes to endangering my wife and
baby, then I draw the line.”

This softened her for the time being, and
she relaxed her hands in her lap. He was so exasperating at times,
but he was also honest. She was self-willed and she knew it.

Gilbert sat down on the bed, pulled his
pants on, and buttoned his shirt. Then he leaned toward Melinda and
grinned. He liked her spunk. He wished he had more time with her,
but David was waiting.

He took her by the shoulders, pulled her
close to him, and planted a warm lingering kiss firmly upon her
lips. “I love you, Sweetheart. Take care. I’ll be back this
afternoon.”

His tender kiss and sweet voice warmed Melinda’s
soul as she smiled lovingly and said, “Don’t worry about me, you
‘ole sweet talker, you. I’ll be just fine.”

“Now don’t you tell a soul about that, or I’ll
have to quit my sweet talking ways.” He grinned and added, “Don’t
want to ruin my reputation for being a tough guy, ya know.”

She felt the mattress relax slightly as he
stood. “Of course not.”

Melinda smiled and waved as he slipped out the
door.

Edith continued seeing Henry and Joseph, but
only as friends. And the letters continued to flow between her and
this mysterious stranger. Each letter brought her great
satisfaction. Since Edith had been so bold in her second letter,
they had become more like friends than strangers.

Her letters were much more relaxed, without fear
of any commitment whatsoever. Each letter that he wrote began with
“My Dear Charming Friend” and Edith warmed up to the sweet words he
wrote. She would fondly place each letter in her upper drawer along
with the others, all tied together with a pink ribbon. And
consequently their friendship blossomed:

Dear Friend,

I love sitting in a peaceful
meadow with the sound of bubbling streams. While I’m there, I enjoy
opening a book and relaxing into a world of my own. I just finished
“Little Women” by Louisa May Alcott. I wept, I laughed, and I felt
the love of this family as I read. I
found myself
realizing how strong a family unit should be. That’s what I want in
my life. What kind of books do you enjoy?

Sincerely, Edith

My Dear Charming Friend,

Last night I went camping with some friends
and the old moon looked so friendly to me, shining down between the
jagged peaks of the rugged old mountains here, the river glistening
as it dashes over the rocks, and lots of trout and even beaver.
It’s only an hour and ten minute drive up here from home. I’ll have
to bring you up here sometime.

I received your letter just before I left. I
look forward to each one I receive from you. In fact, I enjoy
reading them over and over. No, I’m not kidding!

I have a proposition to make. When it’s time
to finally meet, I’ll have a nice big full moon all ordered for us.
Hey, I was just thinking that maybe I wouldn’t want even the old
man in the moon to know too much. I’m liable to wipe him and the
stars and everything out so we can be alone.

To answer your question, I enjoy adventure
books, mostly. I am curious about something. I know you sing very
well. How do you feel when you sing for others? Do you sing simply
to lift people’s spirits and bring joy into their lives?

Sincerely, Your Friend

Edith was elated when she received his letter.
This was the first time he had mentioned her singing, and she was
excited to answer his questions. Music was a part of her life, and
she was glad he realized it. She had not mentioned it to him, but
he knew about her love of music.

Dear Friend,

It sounds like someone has told you an awful
lot about me. To answer your question, singing has always been a
part of my life. At first, it wasn’t easy. I found myself quite
nervous standing in front of others. I could never figure out why,
because I loved singing. And, yes, I wanted to bring joy into
people’s lives.

I finally asked myself, why do I become so
nervous when I’m doing what I love most? It finally dawned on me. I
was actually pouring out my heart and soul to these people, in the
form of song. In fact, I was vulnerable and I knew it. When I would
sing a sad song, I felt it deep inside my soul. When I sang the
praises of God, then my soul would rejoice in what I was singing.
You see, I was actually bearing my soul to these people. So just
before each performance, I decided to have a prayer and ask God to
help me spread joy into the lives of others and to not be so
nervous. I hope this answers all your questions.

By the way, are you a poet? Your last letter
was so poetic as you described the scenery. I hope you had fun
camping. Do you like hiking, too?

Okay, when we meet, we’ve just got to have
the moon or stars. We need some sort of light to see one another.
What do you say?

Sincerely, Edith

My Dear Charming Friend,

You surely amuse me! I like you more all the
time. No – I’m not a poet, but I love to describe things that
impress me.
Thank you for telling me about your music
experiences. I think I understand you much better now.

Do I love to hike? Now that’s an
understatement of the year. Yes, I love to hike. Have you ever
stood on the top of the Rocky Mountains in the early fall and
looked down into the valley below? It’s a magnificent sight to
behold.

Last fall I went hunting with a friend when
the leaves had turned color. We hiked to the top of the Rocky
Mountains, almost forgetting the purpose for our little adventure.
The hike was not only exhilarating, but it was so peaceful that my
friend and I just sat there and talked about our innermost thoughts
and desires in life. I could see other mountains before us that
were even taller than the one we were on. Then when I looked down
into the valley, I saw the most spectacular view before me. The
valley below looked like a patchwork quilt, with a variety of
colors before my very eyes. It was beautiful.

Okay, I’ll compromise with you on the moon
and stars. I’ll let the stars shine but the moon is too bright.

Sincerely, Your Friend

Edith realized that her mysterious friend loved
the beauties around him. He acted like a sensitive person. She knew
she was taking a chance by pouring out her feelings, but she needed
a little help with a problem, and he was the only one she could
turn to. She had tried talking to her mother, but she did not
understand her discouragement at all. Perhaps her friend had an
answer and could help her, so she made up her mind to ask for
help.

Dear Friend,

Have you ever gotten discouraged with life
and wondered if you were progressing or standing still? Sometimes I
feel so discouraged with myself. I feel that I’m not making
headway, not progressing in life. Then I look up at the clouds and
see them moving across the sky, passing me by. What’s wrong with
me? Why do I feel so restless?

Don’t get me wrong. I believe my Father in
Heaven loves me and has a purpose for me. It’s just that I don’t
know what my purpose is at times.

Sincerely, Edith, A Discouraged Friend

As Edith put the letter in an envelope for
her mother to deliver, she pondered her feelings. Her
discouragement was real, and many times she struggled with it. She
needed advice and perhaps her friend could help. When she talked to
her mother about it, she would tell her that it would pass and
perhaps it was depression. But she needed something more than that
kind of advice. Would her friend have anything new or different to
say? Could he help her?

After sealing the envelope, she walked into
the kitchen where her mother was peeling potatoes and handed her
the envelope.

Martha smiled. “Another letter?”

Edith nodded.

“Do you like him?”