Anvil novel · Chapter 10 of 24

Chapter 10: Nine Letters

"Rhett came to my mother's house the evening after the funeral," I said.

I sat up in the bed with the sheet pulled to my chest.

Tucker sat up too. The lamp lit the tape over his eyebrow and the hard line of his jaw.

"He stood in the kitchen with his hat in his hands."

I stared at the lamp.

"He said he was sorry for my loss, and he had a message from you."

"I didn't send a message."

"He said you'd told him to tell me."

I made my voice flat so it wouldn't crack.

"That I was a good time for a summer, and I shouldn't wait, and I shouldn't write."

Tucker did not breathe.

"He said you were already gone and you weren't coming back."

"Lizzie."

"I was twenty and my mother was one day in the ground. I believed him."

"I never said that."

"I know. I think I knew when you walked into the diner. I think I've known since you looked at Birdie."

He pushed both hands over his face and dragged them down.

"I sent you nine letters," he said.

I stared at him.

"The first six months, then every Christmas. I gave them to Rhett, because Dutch said the club handled all charter mail."

"Why?"

"So the Dogs couldn't trace it. I asked Rhett every time if you'd answered."

"What did he say?"

"That you hadn't. That maybe it was better that way."

The air in the room went thin.

"I wrote three," I said.

"What?"

"One when I found out about the baby. One when she was born. One when she took her first steps."

My voice shook.

"I wrote them even though I thought you didn't want them. Danny said to give them to Rhett."

For a long moment we looked at each other across the pillow.

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