Good Tidings (22 page)

He had to admit the transformation was amazing.
Who would have thought such a scrawny tree could end up being so beautiful? Mary would.

He glanced down at her upturned face, joy written clearly across it.
Where’s the mistletoe when you need it,
he thought.

*****

”
Hi, Linda, this is Mary O’Reilly. How are you doing?”

Mary sat back on her couch and put her feet up.
Working from home wasn’t too bad after all.

“
I’m working on a case and I heard you might be able to help me on it,” she continued. “I was wondering if you’d like to come over for lunch today. I’m working from home and I have a spinach quiche in the oven.”

Mary nodded.

“
How does eleven-thirty sound? Perfect. See you then.”

She put the phone down, walked over to look at her Christmas tree and smiled. In the light of day she could see the little imperfections the nighttime Christmas lights hid. She grinned at the large clumps of tinsel Bradley had tossed at the tree.
No, Mary, this is more realistic
, he’d said.

“
What’s realistic about tinsel? It’s not like it grows naturally,” Mary said, shaking her head and separating the strands.

“
Hey, are you fixing my tinsel?”

Mary jumped and then turned around. She took one look at Bradley and her heart flipped over in her chest.
Dang, he looks good in his uniform, all fresh shaven and smelling like a man.

“
I wasn’t fixing it,” she lied. “I was examining it so I can make mine more realistic in the future.”

He laughed. “Remind me never to use you in court on my side.”

“
Why not?” she asked, “I always tell the truth.”

Bradley snorted.

“
Hey there are muffins on the counter, if you’re interested.”

“
Blueberry muffins?” he asked.

She grinned. “Are there any other kind?”

Bradley grabbed a muffin and bit into it. “So, if we never catch Kevin, can I live here forever?”

She laughed. “I don’t know how your wife would feel…”

She stopped and bit her lip. “Sorry, that was fairly thoughtless of me,” she said.

“
Don’t worry about it,” he said with a shrug. “I know it’s a strange situation.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I understand strange situations. I live one.”

He laughed and grabbed a second muffin. “I’ll be at the station most of the day,” he said, “are you going to be okay?”

“
Linda’s coming over for lunch. I want to ask her about Patrick Kenney,” she said. “Then I’m thinking of going with Rosie to Patrick’s mother’s house.”

“
Okay, just be careful out there,” he said with a smile.

“
Yes sir!”

Linda Lincoln’s title was County Clerk, but anyone who had any dealings with her realized that she single-handedly ran the county. If she didn’t personally have the information you needed in her steel-trap of a mind, she could put her fingers on it in moments. She was simply amazing and Mary really admired her.

She arrived precisely at eleven-thirty and offered Mary a small pot of narcissus wrapped in a plaid Christmas fabric and bright red bow. “They are so beautiful,” Mary said, “Thank you.”

“
It’s not every day I get such a nice invitation to lunch,” Linda replied. “It’s the least I can do. Besides, Deininger Floral Shop had them in the window and I couldn’t resist. I bought another pot for myself.”

“
They must love you there,” Mary laughed, setting the flowers in the middle of the table.

“
Well, they do tend to wave me over when they have something new in their window,” she said with a smile. “And I don’t have a whole lot of willpower.”

Mary offered Linda a seat and brought the lunch over. They ate and chatted about the city and the various people and shops in town. Finally, when they were done, Mary filled Linda’s glass again and took out her notepad.

“
Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”

“
No, I don’t mind at all,” Linda offered.

“
This might be a little personal,” Mary warned.

“
Okay, now I’m intrigued,” she said. “Whatever could you be working on that would involve me?”

“
Private Patrick Kenney,” Mary said.

Linda took a deep breath and sat back against her chair. “Patrick. It’s been such a long time since someone said his name,” she said.

“
Does it hurt for you to talk about him?” Mary asked.

“
No. That was a long time ago,” she said, “A different lifetime ago.”

“
I understand you dated Patrick in high school and then when he was deployed, you were waiting for him?”

“
Yes,” Linda said, “we dated throughout high school and I said I’d wait for him. But, at the time it was just what you said. You know, you don’t really understand what you’re agreeing to, but it sounds so dramatic and noble. High school girls are nothing, if not dramatic.”

Mary laughed. “Oh, yes, I remember those days.”

“
But something happened to Patrick over there that changed him,” she said. “Suddenly his letters were deeper, more thoughtful. They were poetry. I really fell in love with Patrick when he was overseas.”

“
Letters were important to both of you?” Mary asked.

Linda nodded. “Yes, in those days you lived for letters. There was no other way to communicate. And letters could take weeks to get back home,” she explained. “I rushed to the mailbox every day in hopes of getting another letter from Patrick.”

“
Wow, it sounds like he was incredible.”

“
The boy that left Freeport was just that, a boy,” she said. “But the man that wrote me those letters. He stole my heart and, in all honesty, I never got it back again.”

Mary was surprised. “But, you were married…”

“
Charlie, my husband, was a good man,” she said. “And I was good to him. But you only love like I did once. I loved Charlie as much as I was able and we were happy.”

“
When did you receive your last letter from Patrick?”

“
About a month before…before he died,” she said, “I had been expecting one when his mother received the news about his death. I was lost for the longest time. I wanted to die too, but I knew that he would want me to go on.”

“
And you met Charlie.”

“
Yes, I met Charlie and it seemed like the right thing to do,” she said.

“
Did you receive any of his personal effects?” Mary asked.

Linda shook her head. “No, we weren’t officially engaged or anything, so his mother received those,” she said. “Really, it was for the best.”

“
How about Bob Sterling?”

Linda smiled. “Good old Bob, he was Patrick’s best friend. Actually, he looked me up once he got back home. It was great to see him again. But, by that time I was married to Charlie and I think we both felt a little uncomfortable talking about Patrick in front of him.”

“
Do you see him now?”

Linda shook her head. “No, you know, I haven’t seen him for years. I really ought to try and get together with him. It would be nice to visit about old times.”

“
That’s a nice idea,” Mary said. “I’m sure Patrick would have liked that.”

*****

”
I’m packing,” Rosie whispered to Mary as they left her house.

“
You’re what?” Mary asked.

Rosie patted her large purse, “I’m packing.”

“
Rosie, carrying a concealed weapon is not only illegal, it’s dangerous. You could hurt someone.”

“
It’s not a gun,” Rosie replied, “It’s wasp spray.”

“
What? Are you expecting some kind of insect attack?”

“
No, silly, I’m surprised you don’t know this, being a former police officer and all,” she said. “I got an e-mail that said women should carry wasp spray in their purses because the stream travels a long distance and it could burn someone’s eyes.”

“
Unless the wind is blowing in the wrong direction,” Mary said, “and you end up with the spray in your eyes.”

“
Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” Rosie admitted. “Well, hmmmm, I’m going to have to think of something else to protect you.”

Mary gave Rosie a quick hug. “Thank you, Rosie, but I think you just being with me is protection enough.”

Rosie pulled the large aerosol container from her purse. “Do you need any wasp spray, Mary?”

Mary looked around at the snow covered lawns and houses around her. “Well, not today,” she laughed, “but perhaps in a couple of months.”

They drove in Mary’s car to Cherokee Hills, a subdivision on the west side of Freeport. Mary parked in front of a tidy tri-level decorated for the season with blinking lights and greenery. “What did you tell her?” Mary asked Rosie as they walked up to the front porch.

“
That the Historical Society might be doing something about Veterans next year and I thought of her,” Rosie said. “I was very non-committal.”

“
Thank you,” Mary said. “I don’t want her to worry her son isn’t resting peacefully after all these years.”

They rang the doorbell and waited for only a moment until a pleasant elderly woman with soft white hair, sparkling grey eyes and a welcoming smile answered the door. “Hello, come in,” she said. “I’m Elaine Kenney, Patrick’s mother.”

She paused and smiled sadly. “It’s been quite a while since I introduced myself like that.”

“
I hope that our being here isn’t going to cause you distress,” Mary said.

Elaine shook her head and smiled at Mary. “Oh, no, it’s about time all this got settled.”

“
I beg your pardon?” Mary asked.

“
Patrick has been hanging around for much too long,” she said. “It always gets worse during this time of the year. I had heard about you, my dear. So, I told Patrick that instead of moaning about it, he needed to go over and see you. I see he did.”

Mary was dumbfounded. “Yes, as a matter of fact, he did.”

Elaine smiled. “So, what do you need?”

“
I need to look through his personal effects and see if I can solve this mystery.”

Elaine brought them into a sun-drenched living room filled with light-colored furniture with small floral prints. Mary and Rosie sat on the couch while Elaine opened an old chest. “This is all they sent me back,” she said and placed a worn orange-crate sized shipping box on top of her coffee table.

Mary lifted the lid and placed it down next to the box. She moved aside the aged tissue paper that held the young soldier’s final effects and carefully lifted out his dress uniform, military portrait and a box with his medals.

Underneath was an old cigar box. Mary lifted the box out, set it on the table and lifted the lid. Inside were two sets of letters, each wrapped together with a rubber band and two loose letters underneath them.

Mary looked through the first set. They were letters from home. There were letters from his mother, his father and Linda. Mary wondered if Linda would be happy to know he saved her letters.

The second set of letters was not in envelopes, they were plain white military stationary. Mary pulled one out and opened it. It was addressed to Linda.

“
He must have saved copies of the letters he wrote to Linda,” Mary said.

She handed the letter to Elaine. “Why that’s strange,” Elaine said.

“
What’s strange?” Rosie asked.

Elaine walked back to the chest and pulled out a square metal canister. Inside were letters, lovingly wrapped in tissue paper. Elaine pulled one out and handed it Mary. “He wrote his letters to us in different handwriting than he used when writing to Linda.”

Mary looked at the two letters. They were definitely written by someone else.

She picked up the two loose letters. One letter was written in the same handwriting as the saved letters to Linda and the other, which matched the first letter word for word, was written in Patrick’s handwriting.

“
What do you think of this?” Mary asked, handing both letters to Elaine.

“
Well, someone else was composing these love letters for Linda,” Elaine said.

“
How do you know?” Mary asked.

Elaine handed Mary the two second pages of the letter that Mary hadn’t looked at. “Patrick hadn’t finished copying the second page yet.”

*****

”
Mary, what are you doing up?” Bradley asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “It’s three o’clock.”

“
I’m waiting for someone,” she said simply, pulling the plush throw tighter around her legs. “He’ll be here soon.”

Bradley sat down next to her on the couch and yawned. “Are we waiting for Private Kenney?” he asked.

Mary nodded. “He has the most exceptional mother,” Mary said. “I’ve never met anyone quite like her.”