Mindi
I looked up as I stepped into The Crispy Biscuit to see Brooke breeze on by with a coffeepot in hand.
I couldn’t help but smile. Brooke was always a cheerful burst of energy, especially at this time of year. “Morning.”
“Grab a seat wherever you like, and I’ll be there in a minute to take your order. Tristan and Melinda both have colds, so we are a little shorthanded this morning.”
“Not a problem, Brooke. I just came to pick up the sandwiches and muffins for the luncheon over at the community center and to drop this off,” I said, holding up the flyer Sarah and I had created for the tree farm.
“Ah yes, put that up on the community board and I’ll be right with you. People have been asking me already when they will be able to come out and get their trees.”
Every week for as long as I could remember, I’d been coming here to pick up food for the Friday luncheons. I’d been one of the first steady customers Brooke had after starting her bakery counter before then taking over the family business.
I glanced down at my watch, hoping that the items I’d ordered were ready to go.
We had a large group coming in today. I’d worked so hard on this program for military families over the years, and it had become bigger than I’d ever imagined it would.
We now had a set of steady volunteers who came to help young kids and spouses deal with the impact military life had on them.
On weekends, we had arts and crafts, along with game days, and every Saturday and Sunday, we either provided lunch or dinner for the children.
Throughout the week we had coping groups for the spouses who had lost their significant others, or for those whose partners were deployed, and just recently we had put out a call for a counselor to help those children who had suffered the loss of a parent.
After everything I’d been through with Sarah in the past year, I knew the community could benefit from having a counselor on staff. We still hadn’t found someone, but something kept telling me we were getting close.
A chill ran through me as I stood waiting at the counter.
I’d been feeling off for the past few days, and while I’d like to think it was the change of weather, I hoped I wasn’t getting sick.
It wouldn’t surprise me, things had just felt off this year.
I watched as Brooke flew from table to table and then came back over and placed the now empty coffeepot on the counter, turned, and smiled.
“How are things going with Sarah?” she questioned, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Oh fine. She still hasn’t been overly talkative, which has me worried, but we are making do.
It has only been a little over a year since she lost her parents.
I just dropped her over at Bluebird Books for the reading program and to spend some time with Gracie.
Since Hilary and her parents moved she has been glued to Gracie. ”
“Well, hopefully that will help some. Any luck in finding a counselor yet?”
“Sadly, no, not even any calls regarding the position, which has me worried.”
“Well, don’t give up. I’m sure someone will contact you soon.”
“I sure hope so.”
“Any word on placement for Sarah?”
I shook my head. “I just spoke with the military rep last night. She advised me they don’t feel comfortable moving Sarah to the adoption center yet. They want her to stay in a stable environment until the holidays are over, so she will stay with me until after Christmas.”
“Might be better that way.”
“I agree. Oh, is my order ready?”
“Mindi, as you can see, I’ve been swamped this morning. Do you think you could come back in half an hour? I have the guys working on them right now. They are just finishing them up.”
I smiled, knowing just how busy she always was at this time of the year.
“No problem. How about you put one of your award-winning cinnamon buns on a plate along with a cup of coffee and I’ll just grab a table and wait?” I winked. “I also wanted to talk to you about booking some desserts and food for the Christmas dinner at the center as well.”
“That I can do, and yes, if I get your order in now, I’ll be able to make my holiday plan and not overbook myself.”
“No problem. Looks like you may have to hire more hands soon.”
“That and put in an expansion. I’m afraid we are quickly outgrowing this place,” Brooke said as she served up a cinnamon bun and poured me a cup of coffee.
“Extra hands should help. No need to move from this place. Willow Valley wouldn’t be the same without you in this location.
My parents used to come here when your parents ran the place.
” I winked as I grabbed the cinnamon bun, while Brooke carried over my cup of coffee to one of the few free tables left.
She set the mug down on the table and then grabbed one of her order forms and a pen.
“If you can get this back to me within the next week, I’d appreciate it.”
“No problem. Thank you,” I said, smiling as she took off to the kitchen.
I was exhausted. I’d run on adrenaline most of the day. Iris had brought Sarah over to the center for lunch and crafts, and now we were on our way back to the farm. My body ached and was craving the warmth of a hot bath, a cup of tea, and perhaps a holiday movie to help lift my spirits.
It had been another emotionally draining day.
I seemed to be having more of those lately, knowing that the closer we got to December, the closer I was to my time with Sarah ending.
I’d never been more thankful to have Ethan, Peggy, Trinity and Thomas along with a couple of other retired military members there to help with everything else that was going on.
Peggy and Trinity arrived after their hired help showed up at the bookstore and flower shop. After afternoon crafts had begun, we grabbed a coffee and discussed putting out another request for a counselor, which was on the top of my list to work on in the coming week.
“What did you want for supper?” I asked Sarah as I turned onto the road we lived on.
“I’m not that hungry.” She sighed and then pointed at the mailbox at the end of the driveway. “There is mail,” she muttered.
I stopped at the end of my driveway and glanced at the old red mailbox my father had put up all those years ago.
The flag was up, notifying me I had mail.
I debated just getting it tomorrow but noticed a clear bag sticking out of the closed door.
Our neighbors occasionally left us food in the mailbox in a plastic bag, and while the bears should be in hibernation by now, it didn’t feel right leaving it.
I let out a sigh and shoved open the car door and quickly opened the mailbox.
Instead of food, all that sat there were a few envelopes and the clear plastic bag with a large sticker on it that read lost mail, so with little thought, I grabbed the pile and climbed back in the car and handed it to Sarah.
Once we were inside, Sarah took off to her room, and I took a hot shower, then I heated the leftover soup in the fridge, made us both some toast and some tea, and made my way into the living room with a tray. We found a movie on TV watching it while we ate together.
When the credits rolled, I glanced over at Sarah, who was lying on the couch with her eyes closed.
“Ready for bed, sweetheart?” I questioned, rubbing her leg.
“I can barely keep my eyes open,” she muttered as we both got up and I followed her to her room.
She crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her.
“No worries; it’s been a long day. Good night, sweetie,” I whispered, placing a kiss on her forehead, and then shut the overhead light off.
“Night.”
I stood in the doorway and watched her as she snuggled up with her favorite teddy bear, then I turned the nightlight on and pulled the door partially closed.
I made my way back to the living room and cleaned up the dishes from supper.
I’d just placed everything in the dishwasher when I looked at the pile of mail Sarah had put on the counter.
After I’d wiped down all the counters, I was about to head back into the living room but stopped.
Frowning, I made my way over and picked up the plastic bag, examining the contents.
Finally, curiosity got the best of me. I’d never received one of these bags before, but I knew that when the post office lost a letter and finally found it, this was how they sent it.
Upon closer inspection I noticed that dirt coated the bag, making it look as though someone had dragged it through a mud puddle.
How long had this been lost, I wondered.
“What on earth is it?” I wondered aloud to myself, grabbing my craft scissors and cutting the top of the bag open.
I carried it into the living room and emptied the contents onto my lap.
A faded green envelope sat on my lap, and while I tried to make out whose name was on the envelope, it proved to be difficult.
It too was dirty, and aside from the “Min” that was written on the front, the entire last name had rubbed off, along with most of the address.
I shook my head and carefully opened the torn envelope, pulling at the contents inside. It was a card, and when I flipped it over, a Santa Claus in pink camouflage stared back at me.
I frowned as I opened the card to see handwriting I’d have known anywhere but hadn’t seen in years. I swallowed hard as I glanced at the date on the card: Christmas 2015. This couldn’t be possible; it had taken ten years to get to me…
I frowned as I read the words written inside, then tears flooded my eyes and began rolling down my cheeks.
Ten years later, I’d finally gotten a response from the letter I’d sent him all those years ago.
My stomach flipped and then sank as I read the words, and I immediately knew the answer to why I’d never heard from him.
Noah had asked me to marry him, and I’d never responded.