coming to bed?” he asked.
“As soon as I finish.”
“Tons of papers to grade tonight?”
“The usual.” What wasn’t usual was for Grady to be this inquisitive. If she didn’t know better she would think that some part of him had intuited that Julia had been in touch.
“Well, goodnight then,” he said.
“Goodnight,” she answered. Sara listened for his footsteps ascending the carpeted stairs before continuing the email.
... I did marry Grady. After you left we stayed friends and we both ended up going to U Mass. We have three children. They’re all grown up and have left home—two boys and a girl. Sam’s the youngest, he’s 22. Jessica’s 23 and John is 24. Jess and Sam work in New York City at the same investment firm and John is in law school in Boston. They’re great kids. I think you would like them. It’s still hard for me to believe I had any part in creating such beautiful, smart human beings. It’s also hard to believe that part of my life is over now. The house is very quiet these days.
Sara debated what else to say. There had been a time when Sara could tell Julia anything. Should she tell her about the cancer? Or about how her life just didn’t make sense anymore?
She wrote a paragraph about her illness and then quickly deleted it. It was too soon to share something so intimate. She began a new paragraph.
… Julia, I love thinking about you being in Florence. Remember my obsession with Italy years ago?
It is wonderful to hear from you again. I look forward to getting whatever you sent. Meanwhile, tell me anything and everything about Italy!
Your friend,
Sara
Sara sent the email and then turned off the computer and the light. As she climbed the stairs an unexpected lightness filled her. She smiled again. Julia had remembered her.
Sara grabbed Luke’s leash, deciding to give him a quick walk instead of just letting him out in the backyard. It was dark. An inch of snow covered everything. Luke peed on the dogwood close to the porch, a standard practice, while Sara retrieved a bundle of mail in the brass mailbox mounted next to the front door. She sorted through a stack of junk mail. The light bulb on the porch had burned out weeks before but neither Sara nor Grady could seem to remember to replace it. The nearby streetlight helped illuminate the sorting.
Hiding behind a pizza coupon was a blue envelope. Sara ran a finger along the letter’s parameters. Its blue elegance stood out in glaring contrast to the junk mail and bills in her hand. She admired the precise handwriting and lovely color of the envelope before realizing that the letter had an Italian postmark. This must be what Julia was talking about, Sara thought.
Inside the envelope was an invitation to an art opening along with a handwritten note.
Dear Sara,
I know it’s a long shot but I thought I’d send you an invitation to my art opening in April.
It was so nice to hear from you recently. I have been thinking of you and remembering the things we used to do as girls. We had a lot of fun, didn’t we? I hadn’t given my past much thought until now. I guess I’m becoming more reflective in my old age. (Ha! Please don’t tell me we’re getting old!)
Ciao,
Julia
Luke tugged at the leash and Sara crammed everything back into the small brass mailbox except Julia’s letter. She clutched the envelope to her heart. Her energy increased with each step down the walkway. Sara had to resist the urge to skip. What if she went to Italy?
Don’t be ridiculous, the voice in her head chimed in .
But the mere possibility caused Sara’s joy to bubble into a laugh. She walked several blocks in the dark moving in and out of the glare of streetlights, a clear destination in mind. She stopped in front of Julia’s old house while Luke sniffed the rose bushes and christened them.
Sara remembered an earlier time when she and Julia had caught lightning bugs in the front yard. One summer they put
“As soon as I finish.”
“Tons of papers to grade tonight?”
“The usual.” What wasn’t usual was for Grady to be this inquisitive. If she didn’t know better she would think that some part of him had intuited that Julia had been in touch.
“Well, goodnight then,” he said.
“Goodnight,” she answered. Sara listened for his footsteps ascending the carpeted stairs before continuing the email.
... I did marry Grady. After you left we stayed friends and we both ended up going to U Mass. We have three children. They’re all grown up and have left home—two boys and a girl. Sam’s the youngest, he’s 22. Jessica’s 23 and John is 24. Jess and Sam work in New York City at the same investment firm and John is in law school in Boston. They’re great kids. I think you would like them. It’s still hard for me to believe I had any part in creating such beautiful, smart human beings. It’s also hard to believe that part of my life is over now. The house is very quiet these days.
Sara debated what else to say. There had been a time when Sara could tell Julia anything. Should she tell her about the cancer? Or about how her life just didn’t make sense anymore?
She wrote a paragraph about her illness and then quickly deleted it. It was too soon to share something so intimate. She began a new paragraph.
… Julia, I love thinking about you being in Florence. Remember my obsession with Italy years ago?
It is wonderful to hear from you again. I look forward to getting whatever you sent. Meanwhile, tell me anything and everything about Italy!
Your friend,
Sara
Sara sent the email and then turned off the computer and the light. As she climbed the stairs an unexpected lightness filled her. She smiled again. Julia had remembered her.
Sara grabbed Luke’s leash, deciding to give him a quick walk instead of just letting him out in the backyard. It was dark. An inch of snow covered everything. Luke peed on the dogwood close to the porch, a standard practice, while Sara retrieved a bundle of mail in the brass mailbox mounted next to the front door. She sorted through a stack of junk mail. The light bulb on the porch had burned out weeks before but neither Sara nor Grady could seem to remember to replace it. The nearby streetlight helped illuminate the sorting.
Hiding behind a pizza coupon was a blue envelope. Sara ran a finger along the letter’s parameters. Its blue elegance stood out in glaring contrast to the junk mail and bills in her hand. She admired the precise handwriting and lovely color of the envelope before realizing that the letter had an Italian postmark. This must be what Julia was talking about, Sara thought.
Inside the envelope was an invitation to an art opening along with a handwritten note.
Dear Sara,
I know it’s a long shot but I thought I’d send you an invitation to my art opening in April.
It was so nice to hear from you recently. I have been thinking of you and remembering the things we used to do as girls. We had a lot of fun, didn’t we? I hadn’t given my past much thought until now. I guess I’m becoming more reflective in my old age. (Ha! Please don’t tell me we’re getting old!)
Ciao,
Julia
Luke tugged at the leash and Sara crammed everything back into the small brass mailbox except Julia’s letter. She clutched the envelope to her heart. Her energy increased with each step down the walkway. Sara had to resist the urge to skip. What if she went to Italy?
Don’t be ridiculous, the voice in her head chimed in .
But the mere possibility caused Sara’s joy to bubble into a laugh. She walked several blocks in the dark moving in and out of the glare of streetlights, a clear destination in mind. She stopped in front of Julia’s old house while Luke sniffed the rose bushes and christened them.
Sara remembered an earlier time when she and Julia had caught lightning bugs in the front yard. One summer they put
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