Debbie Macomber - 44 Cranberry Point

“Nothing out here. I wouldn’t want you to risk damaging one of those fingernails.” He leaned on the shovel. “Why don’t you unpack? I’ve got boxes shoved in every conceivable corner.”

“Out of sight, out of mind?”

“Not exactly,” he said with a chuckle.

Maryellen took his advice and decided to start in the master bedroom. The kitchen could wait; besides, that area was Jon’s domain. He was the cook in the family, although she was willing to do her share of meal preparation. Marriage to her was a partnership, and Maryellen had every intention of being a good wife. If that meant chopping pounds of onions, well…she’d do it. In fact, she’d do anything to make her marriage as strong and healthy as possible.

She climbed the stairs to the bedroom, then paused in the doorway, hands on her hips, as she surveyed the room where she’d soon be sleeping. The photograph Jon had taken of her months earlier hung on the wall by the bed. It showed her in a rocking chair nursing Katie when their daughter was a newborn. He’d managed to capture the wonder and awe and love she felt, holding this tiny being in her arms. She’d hardly been conscious of Jon’s presence at the time, so absorbed was she by Katie.

It gave her immeasurable joy to place her clothes in the closet next to Jon’s. She carefully pushed his shirts aside and her hand lingered there. In two days’ time, she would be Jon Bowman’s wife. She felt a renewed sense of anticipation-and a surge of love for the man who’d fathered her child.

She opened the dresser drawers and started rearranging his things and making room for her own. That was when she found the letters. Tucked in with old receipts, maps and loose change were a number of envelopes. Most had been opened but a few remained sealed. Curiosity got the better of her and she pulled out a sheet, but then she paused. She refused to begin her marriage with an act of deception-snooping through letters that were addressed to Jon, not to her. Unsure what to do, she stacked them in a neat pile and set them to one side.

She heard the front door open and Jon calling up the stairs. “I’m ready for a break. How about you?”

She walked out of the bedroom to stand at the railing and looked down. “Be with you in a minute. I’m just finishing up here.”

“Okay.”

“I found a bunch of letters in a drawer. Is there any place you want me to put them?”

He frowned, hesitated and then shrugged. “Toss ’em.”

“In the garbage?”

Nodding, he turned and walked into the kitchen.

“Who are they from?”

“No one important,” he shouted back.

“An old girlfriend?” she pressed.

He snickered loudly enough for her to hear him all the way up the stairs. “Hardly. Just get rid of the whole bunch.”

Maryellen dumped the letters into the plastic garbage bag, but then she couldn’t resist. She plucked out the top one and looked at the return address. It was from the small coastal town of Seal Beach, Oregon. Years ago Maryellen had driven through it along Highway 1. She’d stopped for gas and lunch, and for some reason she’d never forgotten the town.

“Who do you know in Seal Beach?” she called down, reluctant to drop the matter. She began to descend the stairs, still clutching the letters.

Jon stepped out of the kitchen. “You aren’t going to let this rest, are you?”

She slid her hand down the smooth oak banister as she walked. “I can’t help being curious. You’d feel the same if it was me.”

Jon shook his head, scowling. “I should’ve ditched those a long time ago. They’re from my parents.”

“Some of them haven’t even been opened.”

He stared up at her. “My father and stepmother are out of my life, Maryellen. They made their choice and I made mine. I want nothing more to do with either of them. Now, please just get rid of those letters, and don’t mention them again.”

“But-”

“Maryellen, please.”

“If you insist.” And this time she buried the letters in the bottom of the bag.

An hour later, her clothes hung next to Jon’s in the big closet. The dresser drawers were full. At first glance it seemed as if she’d always lived with Jon, always been part of his home and his life. That gave her a feeling of contentment and somehow made their coming marriage even more real.

They ate dinner together, and sipped wine on the upstairs balcony that overlooked the water. Completely at ease, Maryellen laid her head against his shoulder. Jon’s arm was around her, his long legs stretched out in front of him. The moment was so tranquil, she didn’t immediately realize Jon had fallen asleep.

It was just as well. She needed to get back to her mother’s house, spend some time with Katie. By now her daughter would be cranky, and Maryellen didn’t want to take advantage of her mother’s generosity.

Kissing Jon on the cheek, she slipped out of his arms and sneaked down the stairs, making as little noise as possible. She hated to leave, but in two days she’d be with Jon forever…

Just as she’d predicted, Katie was difficult and unreasonable that night, and her mother was exhausted. As soon as Maryellen reached for Katie, the baby settled against her shoulder, put her thumb in her mouth and promptly fell asleep. Maryellen rocked her for a few minutes, gently rubbing Katie’s back.

“I can’t believe one tiny baby could have so much energy.” Grace sat down in her favorite chair, head thrown back, eyes closed. Opening them again, she said, “You look at peace.”

“I am at peace, and so much in love.”

Grace’s eyes grew moist. “I hope you’ll always be as happy as you are now.”

Maryellen lowered her gaze.

Her mother understood her perfectly. “What is it?”

“Jon. I found a stack of letters, several of which he hadn’t even bothered to open.”

“Letters? From whom?”

“His parents. I badly wanted to read them but I didn’t. Jon told me to throw them out.” Her mother knew about Jon’s situation and the way his parents had betrayed him.

“Did you?”

Maryellen nodded. “I didn’t want to start our marriage off by being dishonest.”

“It seems to me that if Jon has no feelings for his family, he wouldn’t have saved those letters.”

“I felt the same thing.” Maryellen gnawed on her lower lip. “I didn’t need to read them to know what they said. Jon’s their only family now and they want his forgiveness. They want their son back.”

“They have a granddaughter they don’t know anything about.”

“Yes…”

“And you, Maryellen. They’ll be your in-laws.”

It hurt her to think of Jon rejecting his parents’ attempts at reconciliation-less for their sake than for his. Jon would never be free of the past until he could find a way to forgive his parents.

Her mother seemed deep in thought. “I couldn’t bear the idea of anyone keeping me from my grandchildren,” she said softly.

That was another point she should consider. Jon might not want anything to do with his family, but his parents had a right to know about Katie. And Katie had a right to know her grandparents.

That evening, Maryellen wrote Jon’s family. The letter was brief. She’d memorized the post office box number and the zip code, and that was all she needed. She included a picture of Katie and a short message about how well Jon’s career was going. Wanting to be sensitive to her husband’s feelings, she stated that it would be best if they didn’t contact her. She did promise, however, to send them occasional photographs of their granddaughter.

The next morning as Maryellen drove to the post office, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. On the one hand, she knew Jon would disapprove; on the other, she felt his parents deserved some compassion. And what about Katie? What about her future happiness?