Love Letters: A Rose Harbor Novel

  I looked up and noticed Mark studying me. When I caught his eye, he frowned and asked, “You okay?”

  I shrugged and then said the first thing I thought of, which in retrospect made no earthly sense. “Paul’s sweatshirt has lost his scent.”

  “I beg your pardon.”

  It stunned me that I’d blurt this out. “Never mind.”

  “No,” he said, frowning, refusing to let this pass without comment. “So that’s it.”

  I was embarrassed now. Earlier I’d been feeling depressed and lonely and I’d gone into my room and taken Paul’s sweatshirt out of the closet. I did that from time to time. I couldn’t explain why, other than that I gained some comfort in an old Seahawks sweatshirt of his. We’d met at a Seahawks game and he’d given it to me to keep for him when he’d been deployed. I wore it myself on occasion, mainly because I felt close to Paul when I had it on. After I learned he’d been killed, I kept it in a special spot in my closet and periodically held it against my face. Then I would breathe in the scent of him. That afternoon I noticed the fragrance that was uniquely my husband had faded. I felt as if I was losing this last bit of Paul, and I wasn’t ready to let him go, wasn’t ready to give this up when I’d had to surrender so much else.

  “Jo Marie?” Mark eyed me curiously. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course I am,” I blurted out, lost in my thoughts.

  “You look like you’re about to break into tears.”

  “I’m not, so don’t worry.” I leaped up off the step and rushed back into the house, and set the full glass of tea on the kitchen counter.

  A few moments later, Mark followed me inside. He took his own sweet time setting his empty glass in the sink. “What’s this about wanting to know my birthday?” he asked.

  “It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have asked.” I don’t know why I’d bothered to Google his name. Wanting to resolve this mystery around Mark was ridiculous. “If you don’t want to tell me, it’s fine.”

  He started to walk out of the kitchen, hesitated, and turned back. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes,” I insisted.

  Again he paused as if at a loss at what to think. “I was born May eighth.”

  I stared back in surprise and blinked, hardly knowing what to say. I wouldn’t go back to my computer search. It felt wrong now. Mark had given me a small bit of trust, and to search out his background like a bloodhound hot on a trail felt like I’d be abusing his confidence.

  Another hour passed and I found myself dealing with the same restlessness that had plagued me recently. I heard footsteps and looked up to find Ellie descending the staircase, one hand on the railing. The change in her appearance was dramatic. The haircut was perfect for her. She wore a lovely sleeveless floral dress with a wide black belt and carried a thin white cardigan over her arm. Her purse hung from her shoulder.

  On seeing me, she said, “Tom is on his way.”

  “You look fabulous,” I said, and I meant it.

  A smile appeared. “Do you really think so?”

  “I do.” She was going to knock Tom’s socks off.

  Her cell phone dinged, and Ellie glanced at it and sighed.

  “Tom?” I asked, seeing the look that came over her. If this young man was messing with Ellie’s tender heart, I swore I would find a way to make him suffer.

  Ellie shook her head and ignored the call. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” she said, as she tossed the phone back inside her purse.

  Chapter 9

  When Ellie heard Tom’s car pull into the driveway at Rose Harbor Inn, she froze. It felt like her entire body had shut down. This was it. The moment she’d been waiting for all these months.

  With all her heart she had to believe that Tom was everything he claimed and that he wasn’t out to abuse or use her. She had to believe that their feelings for each other were genuine. Her heart told her he was sincere, and she needed to trust her heart and drown out her mother’s dire warnings.

  The porch steps creaked as Tom approached the front door. Ellie stood a few feet away on the other side, her heart racing like she’d just finished running a marathon. Rover came and sat on his haunches at her side as though standing guard over her.

  The doorbell chimed and Ellie inhaled a deep breath, slowly counted to ten, and then, as casually as she could manage, stepped forward and opened the door.

  Tom looked exactly like his picture. He was tall, about six-three, but then she was tall, too. Her mother claimed she got her height from her father. Tom’s eyes were a rich shade of brown as he steadily regarded her. It seemed they both held their breath. Ellie knew she did, waiting for she knew not what.

  For the longest moment of her life, neither spoke.

  Finally, Tom broke the silence. “Ellie?”

  She nodded. “Tom?” Her voice squeaked.

  He nodded and then whispered as if in awe. “You’re even more beautiful in person.” With anyone else that might have sounded like a well-practiced line. It didn’t with him. If anything, he looked as nervous as Ellie felt. He continued to stand on the other side of the door. Her manners, it seemed, had completely deserted her.

  “Would you like to come inside?” she asked, once she found she could speak without sounding like a high-pitched pond frog.

  He glanced at his wrist, reminding her that he’d made a dinner reservation.

  “Perhaps later, if you don’t mind,” he said.

  “I don’t mind at all,” she rushed to assure him. He took her elbow as they descended the porch steps. Then he hurried to her side of the car and held open the passenger door. One of the text messages from her mother had cautioned her that she should beware of men who were overly polite or well mannered. The warning rang in her ears now, but she refused to listen.

  Tom waited until she was inside and then closed the door for her. He raced around to the driver’s side and slipped behind the steering wheel. Ellie couldn’t help but think it was a rare man who saw to such details. He was like her, an old-fashioned kind of person.

  The car’s interior had been freshly detailed, she noticed. The dashboard gleamed and the seats felt slippery. It told Ellie that Tom wanted to make a good impression. Her mother had warned her about that, too. Once more, Ellie refused to listen to her mother’s voice, no matter how loud Virginia Reynolds shouted in her ear.

  “DD’s on the Cove is the best restaurant in town.”

  “Jo Marie mentioned what a good restaurant it is,” Ellie said. “She’s the innkeeper. Do you know her?”

  He started the engine and glanced over his shoulder while backing out of the driveway. Once he was on the road, he said, “I haven’t met Jo Marie, but I’ve heard nothing but good things about her and the inn. I thought you’d feel most at home there.”

  “I appreciated the recommendation.”

  He waited until they were down the hill before he spoke again. “Your hair looks different now.”

  Automatically, her hand went to the back of her head. “Yes.” She resisted asking him if he liked the new style. It might sound like she was fishing for compliments.

  “It’s a good look for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  When they arrived at the restaurant their table was ready. Tom held her chair out for her, and once they were handed the menus, he made a couple suggestions. “Their clam chowder is excellent.”

  Ellie lowered the menu to look at him and smile. “What’s your favorite thing to order?”

  “Fried oysters.”

  “I enjoy fried oysters, too, but the seafood Cobb salad is tempting me.” Her decision was made. She was going for a cup of the chowder and the salad, then set her menu aside. The waiter returned and Tom ordered a white wine from New Zealand. Ellie enjoyed wine, but her knowledge was limited. Tom went on to explain about several varieties until their wine was delivered. The waiter took their dinner order and then discreetly slipped away.

  “What shall we drink to?” Tom asked, raising his wi
neglass, holding onto the stem.

  “To finally meeting,” Ellie suggested.

  He tipped his glass toward hers until the two goblets made a slight clinking sound. “May it be the first of many such meetings and dinner dates.”

  Ellie hoped that was true. Tom was exactly as she pictured him, and not just in the physical sense. He was as uptight about this dinner date as she was.

  “Is your mother upset with you?” he asked, after their soup was delivered.

  “A little,” Ellie confessed. He had no clue, and she wasn’t telling him. She tasted the chowder and Tom was right to have recommended it.

  “Which means she’s probably texting you every hour.”

  “Something like that.”

  He set his wineglass down and frowned slightly as if he was well aware of her mother’s tactics. “It means a lot to me that you’d be willing to meet me.”

  That was the way Ellie wanted it. She had to be away from her mother for this first meeting. Tom had offered to come to Oregon, but Ellie had discouraged that for fear of what her mother would do to embarrass her.

  “I’m sure she means well,” Tom said, as if following her train of thought. “If you were my daughter, I’d want to protect you, too.”

  “Do I need protection from you, Tom?”

  “No.” His dark eyes widened slightly. “I’d never do anything to hurt you, Ellie, God as my witness.”

  His words warmed her. They talked for a while. A lot of their previous conversation had revolved around their families. With Ellie, there was little to tell. She’d been raised with her grandparents, homeschooled, and had taken a few community college classes. It’d been a friend’s suggestion that she join a group of other women who shared a talent for organization. The four of them had started their own company, which had proven to be successful beyond their expectations.

  Ellie knew Tom’s father had died when he was young. His mother had remarried, and Tom and his younger brother, Earl, had basically been raised by their stepfather, although they both thought of him as their father and called him Dad.

  “I know your mother is worried about us, and frankly I don’t blame her,” Tom continued. “Maybe we should call her and reassure her later.”

  “No.” It wouldn’t do any good and would quite possibly arouse her mother’s suspicions. Knowing Virginia, Ellie accepted that there wasn’t anything Tom could say or do that would appease her.

  “Even now I miss my mother,” Tom said, looking thoughtful. “She’s been gone ten years now. I was in my late teens when she died. Her death changed the course of my life.”

  “I’m sorry.” Ellie probably didn’t appreciate her mother nearly enough, but lately that had been difficult. Virginia was much too refined to argue verbally with Ellie, but her disapproval was evident in nearly every way imaginable.

  “For a long time my dad was an emotional mess. Mom died unexpectedly. One minute she was fine and the next moment, she grabbed her head and collapsed. She was gone within a few hours. We were all left in a state of shock.

  “Dad blamed himself. Although there was nothing he could have done, he thinks he should have been able to help her somehow. He’s filled with regrets, and it isn’t just about what happened to Mom.”

  “I never knew my dad,” Ellie whispered. She set her spoon aside as a deep sense of sadness settled over her. “He and my mother divorced before I have any memories of him.”

  “You never had any contact with him following their divorce?”

  “Never.”

  Tom’s face tightened.

  “I think the marriage was so bad that he was looking to put it all behind him.”

  “By everything, do you mean you, too?” Tom asked this as though he found the suggestion seriously wrong.

  In reality, Ellie couldn’t blame her father, but she had missed knowing him.

  “Have you ever thought about reaching out to him?” Tom asked.

  When she was in grade school and later as a preteen she’d wanted to write him a letter, but her mother claimed she had no idea where he lived or how to reach him. “I did want to find him.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Mom claimed he didn’t want anything more to do with us. He’d moved on with his life and so had she.”

  Tom shook his head as if he found that hard to believe. “You must have missed having a father.”

  She lowered her gaze. It was as if Tom had read her heart. At various times in her youth, she’d yearned to know her father, dreamed of what it would be like to have him in her life. As young as she’d been when he left, she wondered if she might have been part of the reason. Perhaps she’d been a cranky baby. Her mother once told Ellie how she’d cried and cried with colic, keeping her parents awake all hours of the night.

  “I think I might have been a difficult baby.”

  “So? What does that have to do with anything?”

  Clenching her hands together, Ellie stared down at the table and tried to smile. “I might have turned him off fatherhood.”

  “To the point he’d abandon you?” Tom asked incredulously. “You’re joking, right?”

  Ellie lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know what else to think.” The subject depressed her and she preferred not to discuss it. “Do you mind if we talk about something else?” she asked.

  “Of course.” He seemed to regret bringing up the subject.

  Soon afterward their entrées arrived, and everything was delicious. The conversation drifted easily from one subject to the next. It helped that they’d become familiar with each other through email, phone calls, and social media. These first meetings could be awkward and uncomfortable, yet Ellie felt completely at ease with Tom.

  After dinner, Tom suggested a movie and Ellie agreed. Because the next showing wasn’t for more than an hour, they decided to walk along the waterfront. The night was lovely, with a slight breeze blowing off the cove. Earlier, Jo Marie had suggested Ellie bring a cardigan, and she was glad she’d taken her advice.

  “Let me help,” Tom offered, taking the sweater out of her hand and holding it while she slipped her arms into the sleeves. He brought it up to her shoulders and let his hands linger there. Of her own volition, Ellie leaned back, pressing her body against his, tucking her head beneath his chin. How well suited they were. She fit perfectly in his embrace and loved the feel of his arms around her.

  “I’ve dreamed of kissing you,” he whispered close to her ear.

  Ellie smiled. “I’ve thought a lot about it, too.”

  He slid his hands down the length of her arms. “I can’t believe you’re really here.” He turned her around so that they faced each other. His gaze delved deep into hers. After a lengthy moment, he broke eye contact and glanced around them.

  The waterfront area was crowded. Another couple, lost in conversation, strolled past, followed by a little boy around five who chased after a seagull, laughing as his short legs pumped for all he was worth. A dog barked in the distance.

  Tom expelled a harsh breath. “Later,” he whispered, and then reached for her hand as they continued down the waterfront pathway.

  “I took a long walk earlier this afternoon,” Ellie told him. “It’s so beautiful here with the cove and the Olympic Mountains in the background. I heard someone mention they’d spied a pod of killer whales close by. People hurried down to the marina, anxious to get a look.”

  “One of my greatest joys is being out on the water.”

  “I never have … my mother was always afraid something would happen to me.”

  “You’ve never been in a boat?” His look was incredulous.

  “Not out so far that I couldn’t swim to the shore.”

  “Would you like to go sailing with me?” he asked eagerly, his eyes bright with excitement. “I have a friend who owns a boat, and he offered to let me use it any time I want.”

  “I’d love that.”

  “Tomorrow, then. I’ll pick you up first thing in the mornin
g. Can you be ready by nine?”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  “I’ll take you around Puget Sound, and if we’re lucky we’ll see a few killer whales. But I have other plans for us in the afternoon.”

  “You do?” She made it a question, hoping he’d fill her in on what he’d scheduled. “You want to share what they are?” she asked, half pleading.

  He briefly hesitated and then shook his head. “It’s a surprise. You have to wait.”

  “You can’t tell me now?” In his previous emails and text messages, he’d alluded to the fact that he had something special planned for her. To this point, he’d refused to tell her what it was. From his hesitation, he seemed to fear she might not enjoy his surprise, which made Ellie all the more determined to be grateful and reassuring, no matter what it was.

  He shook his head. “You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” His worried expression changed, and he teased her by bouncing his index finger against the tip of her nose.

  “Can I guess?”

  “Nope.” He tucked her arm around his elbow as they lazily strolled toward the theater. It was an old-fashioned one with a single screen, unlike the multiplex Ellie had seen advertised in the Cedar Cove Chronicle with ten theaters.

  He paid for their tickets. The movie was one Ellie had seen before, but it didn’t matter if she’d viewed it a thousand times—it would be fresh and new because she was sharing it with Tom.

  “Popcorn?” Tom asked, as they ventured inside the theater.

  Ellie pressed her hand against her stomach. “I’m still full from dinner.”

  Tom grinned, and it struck her how attractive he was when he smiled. The truth was, he was appealing in every way, smile or no smile.

  “What does it matter when we ate dinner? It’s impossible to watch a movie without buttered popcorn, and they use real butter here, not that artificial stuff most theaters use.”

  “Real butter?”

  “We’re getting popcorn,” Tom insisted. He purchased a small bag for them to share. By the time they found their seats the theater was dark and previews played across the screen. Holding her by the hand, he led her to the far right-hand side to the seat farthest from the door.