Lost and Found: (A Ripple Effect Romance Novella) (9 page)

I’m sorry you felt lonely. I never want you to feel lonely, but please think of me. I’ve been here for nine months and most of it has been spent lonely and missing you. But I’d happily put up with all of it in order to give us the best possible life. When I asked your father for your hand, he told me he wanted the best for his daughter. I want the best for his daughter, as well.

Please come back. None of this is worth it without you. Just be patient. It won’t always be like this.

Love,

Elliott

“Poor Elliott,” Lydia said. “He’s so hurt and angry.” Blake leaned back his head and closed his eyes. “It’s after midnight, Blake. Do you want to finish these in the morning?”

“No,” he said, his eyes still closed. “We’re almost finished. Unless you’re too tired, of course.” A solemn mood had fallen over the room. Both of them knew sadness was imminent, and they spoke a little softer, a little more carefully. “Would you read them?” Blake asked. He ached for the loneliness his grandfather had felt, the loss he’d endured. Lydia’s voice was soothing and the painful reproach he felt was coming would be easier to endure wrapped in her gentle delivery.

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

Lydia opened the next letter. “This one is from December 26, 1947.”

Darling Gladys,

Christmas just wasn’t Christmas without you. I didn’t know if I’d hear from you, so I was surprised and pleased when I received your gift. I hope this means we’re not finished. I opened your present before I went to work at midnight Christmas Eve. Thank you for the lovely gifts. As you can see, I’m writing on the stationery you sent. The “Dr. Elliott Knowles” at the top of the page could only be improved if it said ”Dr. and Mrs. Elliott Knowles.” I wore the bowtie to work just to remind me of you.

This was the week I thought we’d be getting married. But instead, I’m here in Denver and you’re back in Charlotte with your family. I miss the days when I was doing my residency and you were going to school. I never imagined that I’d look back on my residency and long for it again. I’m still hopeful that this will be my last Christmas alone, that we’ll be together next year in our own home, with a tree we decorated together and our own snowy front yard, complete with a snowman like the one we built in Boston.

Yesterday was difficult in many ways. A family that was traveling to visit their grandmother for Christmas dinner ended up in the emergency room after a terrible car accident. The roads were icy and their car went off the road and turned over onto its roof. What a sad way to celebrate the holiday. Even sadder, their three-year-old daughter didn’t survive. Christmas will forever be ruined for them. We tried our best to save her, but there was nothing we could do. I cried in front of Dr. Tate. He’s an older doctor who’s been here for nearly thirty years. I felt terrible and told him I was sorry for being so unprofessional, and he put his hand on my shoulder and said,” The most unprofessional thing we can do is stop feeling joy and grief with our patients.” It made me feel a little better.

I wish I could come home at night to you instead of to three men. Silas snores and John’s feet smell so bad that sometimes I walk in the apartment and the stench nearly knocks me back out the door. It makes me miss the scent of your rose perfume.

I love you, Gladys, and hope we still have a future together.

All my love,

Elliott

Blake was quiet when Lydia finished the letter. He felt strangely exposed. Lydia hadn’t been there for all the missed family events. She hadn’t been affected by the long work days that often stretched into night. These were things he’d rather she didn’t see, especially in this context. Blake wanted to rationalize it away, just as his grandfather had tried to do in these letters. He wanted to defend himself from what felt like an accusation from beyond the grave. He didn’t want Lydia to think less of him.

The thing that kept him quiet was the knowledge that his grandpa had loved him. He’d sent Blake to find this box because he had thought it would teach him something. He couldn’t ignore it, even if it made him uncomfortable. What he’d do with it, he wasn’t sure.

Blake looked at Lydia. She was leaning over the letters, carefully putting the ones they’d read back in the box. Her strawberry blond hair fell in front of her face, and she tucked it behind her ear. Blake resisted the urge to pull her close to him, to touch her face, to hold her hand. She probably wouldn’t want him to. She was reading these letters and seeing what Elliott had done to his relationship. She knew Blake was like his grandfather, that he’d made the same mistakes as Elliott. He had put work before family. He’d let his job keep him from this message from his grandfather. Blake felt a strange sadness that this thing that had started with Lydia, whatever it was, was probably over before it had even begun.

Blake was visibly upset, and Lydia didn’t know what to do about it. She couldn’t gloss it over. These letters were a message from his grandfather, a lesson he’d felt was important enough to send Blake across the country. To tell him it was no big deal and everything was fine would be to undermine his grandfather, and she wouldn’t do that.

“Do you want to read now or would you like me to keep going?” she asked quietly.

“Could you?” he asked.

“Yes. The next two are from Gladys’s to Elliott. Do you want me to read them in order or just finish his?”

“Let’s finish them all.”

“Okay. Gladys wrote this to Elliott on January 22, 1948.”

Dear Elliott,

I know how disappointed you are, and I hate being the cause, but I’m just so torn. I love you so much and can’t picture my life with anyone but you, but I also can’t picture my life living so far from my family and being married to someone who’s never home.

I know it’s hard for you to understand. You’re a man, and you had no trouble picking up your life and moving to a faraway city, but you’ve got your job. You’re at work every day doing important things like saving people’s lives. The month I was there was the loneliest month of my life. I think I missed you even more while I was there than I had when I was here in Charlotte. At least when I was here, there was a reason to miss you. There, it felt like I should see you more than just a few scattered hours here and there.

Maybe I’m just immature and childish. Maybe you were right when you called me spoiled and selfish, but I can’t help how I feel. I was terribly hurt when you’d take extra shifts when you could have been with me. Over and over, Eloise called me to the phone so you could tell me you wouldn’t be coming by because you’d picked up another shift. I just kept thinking the people you were working for were going home and you weren’t. It wasn’t what I expected when I came to Denver, and I was miserable.

I love you, Elliott Knowles, and I know you love me. I just don’t know if I want to live with the kind of love you want to give me. I don’t know if I want to have children whose father is gone when they get up and doesn’t come home until long after they’re in bed. It hurts me to say these things to you. I’m sorry.

Gladys

Blake’s face looked pained. Lydia wanted to be done with it, but she didn’t want to leave him to finish alone, so she hurried to the next one.“This one is also from Gladys. She wrote it on April 24, 1948.”

Dear Elliott,

I don’t know how to tell you this without it breaking your heart, but I’ve met someone. It’s still pretty new, and I don’t know where it will lead, but I don’t want to keep secrets from you. He’s not as handsome as you, although he is pleasant enough, and he’ll never be as successful as you will be. I know if I marry him, I’ll be giving up many of the things you wanted to give me, but I think I’m fine with that. He works at an insurance company. It isn’t fancy work, but he leaves it behind at the end of the day and is home every night before six. It’s a stable job, and a family with him would be more like my family was, more like the family I’ve always wanted.

My heart breaks when I think of you. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel like I did when we were together. You’ll probably say I’m settling for less than I should, and maybe I am, but I feel comfortable and peaceful, and I’m not lonely.

I do hope you’re well. You’re in my thoughts every day.

I’m sorry, Elliott.

Gladys.

“Just two left. This one is from Elliott. June 19, 1948.”

Dear Gladys,

I haven’t heard from you for a while, so I decided to give myself a birthday present and call you on June 17. Your mother said you were on your honeymoon.

I don’t know what to say. I didn’t know things had progressed to that point. I know it has been a long time since I’ve heard from you, but I still had hopes that eventually you’d come back to Denver. I still pictured a happily ever after for us, but I guess that’s not to be.

I still don’t understand why you didn’t want what I had to offer, but I’ll do my best to accept things as they are. I don’t know if I’ll ever love someone the way I love you. I fear I’ll love you and miss you every day of my life.

Be happy and have a good life.

Elliott

“This is the last letter,” Lydia said. “It’s from Gladys. It’s dated July 9, 1948.”

Dear Elliott,

Mother didn’t tell me you called on your birthday until after I received your last letter. I’m sorry you found out I was married that way. That was very unkind of me. I just didn’t know how to tell you.

Elliott, please try to understand. I wanted to be someone’s world, and I think your world is your hospital.

I hope you find someone wonderful and that you have a happy life. I pray you don’t hate me.

Gladys

Lydia folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. Blake’s eyes were closed, his head propped up on pillows against the headboard, and his fingers laced across his stomach. She’d thought he was attractive when she’d first met him at the airport, but tonight he looked even better. He still looked like a movie-star, but there was more to him now. His long legs stretched the length of the bed. If she reached out her hand, she could touch them. He had good hands, long and lean, but strong. They’d encouraged her on their sky dive, they’d comforted her after they left Shady Days.

Right now there was no dimple. Worry lines etched his forehead. Lydia wished she could wipe them away. Tonight hadn’t been easy for him. The message from his grandfather, a man he loved and admired, was pretty clear, and it cast a shadow over Blake and his entire life. That had to have been hard to hear. She wanted to offer him comfort but there wasn’t much she could say. She could only hope these letters would help Blake avoid the heartbreak his grandfather had endured.

Lydia moved to the end of the bed, careful not to bounce the mattress. “I’m not asleep,” Blake said, opening his eyes. “Just thinking.”

Lydia looked at him, and his eyes held hers. An ache started deep inside her and wrapped itself around her heart. Maybe he felt it too, or maybe they were just too tired to drag their eyes somewhere else, but even though the look lasted longer than should have been comfortable, neither of them looked away.

“Are you okay?” Lydia whispered.

Blake gave a small nod. “Not a very happy ending.”

“It’s heartbreaking,” she said. Blake’s eyes moved to her lips. Only then did Lydia look down at her hands, color rising in her cheeks.

“Come on. I’ll walk you to your room,” Blake said.

Lydia struggled to keep her breathing steady as she followed Blake to the door. He grabbed his keycard and her purse off the dresser and held the door open above her head. She ducked under his arm, and the door swung shut behind them.

Lydia pulled her keycard out of her bag, but instead of unlocking the door, she turned to Blake. “Do you think he regretted not going after her?”

Blake shrugged and leaned a shoulder against the wall. “I don’t know. Maybe it was too late to change her mind. Even if he’d been willing to change.”

“Are you glad you found the box, or do you wish you hadn’t?” She wanted him to feel okay about it. She’d suggested he stay. Maybe it would have been better if he’d boarded that plane and never found out about the doomed relationship between Elliott and Gladys. But that would have meant their time together wouldn’t have happened, and Lydia almost couldn’t bear that thought.

Blake smiled. He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers brushed against her cheek, sending shivers down her back. Then his hand traveled slowly to her shoulder and down her arm until he took her hand and held it in his. “It was hard to read, but I feel closer to Grandpa, and I understand him better.” His thumb moved over the back of her hand. She watched his face as he looked down at their hands. His strong jaw with a day’s scruff and the small scar on his chin. She noticed a tiny freckle on the side of his nose.