The Envelope

The Envelope
By
Bob Conder
1-25-12

It seemed winter was coming earlier this year. The leaves had already started to turn, and the sun's warmth somehow was less.

Holly had left the pot on too long as the whistle tooted with steam. But the hot tea would take the chill and calm her nerves. Sitting at the kitchen table, the one with the patchwork tablecloth her mother had made for her as a wedding present, she could see the long gravel drive which lead to the main highway. The highway lead to the town and onto the city. A place Holly had run from as a wayward youth.

Funny how whatever it was she was running from had never found her here on the farm, and more importantly, she couldn’t even remember what it was.

Donny, with his long golden locks and charismatic smile, had stolen her heart and placed her here, miles from frantic thoughts and people. A good secure home, a good place to be.
Somehow he must have known this would be good for both of them. A place removed from the hustle of the city, removed from meddling neighbors, removed from the mistakes of youth. With plenty of room to grow up and old together. 

Children had never come to the couple, but the good Lord knew they tried, and it was their desire to have a strong family. Donny wanted a boy to take hunting and fishing. Holly hoped for a girl or two so she could put ribbons in their hair and sew fancy dresses for the proms and dances that they would surely go to. After all, they would be the best-looking girls in three counties.

But now she sat, waiting, at the table, looking out the front window where she could watch the dust rise up as any car drove up the gravel lane. Waiting, that’s something Holly had become accustomed to. She waited to meet Donny, waited to find this farm, and waited by her mother as cancer ate her away. She waited for the first letter as Donny left for basic training and each and every letter after that. They brought comfort to her, and his letters are full of love and hope and dreams for the two of them.

Someone had called earlier and asked if they could stop by for a few moments. It sounded important, so she agreed, but when she hung up the phone, she suddenly felt worry and anxiety overcome her small frame. For not many people came by way out here to say hey.

And then, the dust began to rise from the highway as a big black car turned into the lane. It had a sign on the door, but the distance was too far to make it out. Holly stopped breathing, holding her breath still, for the five minutes it took the car to reach their home.

Two days earlier, Donny had come to her in a dream; oh he was handsome and dressed in his favorite plaid shirt. He didn’t say anything, just smiled, held her hand, and kissed her cheek, then he was gone. As she awoke, Holly thought she understood then what had happened.

When the doorbell rang, it pulled her lungs in, and she started to breathe again. She rose to her feet and slowly dragged herself to the door. Two men in uniforms stood before her; they asked to come in. The only words she remembered were, “sorry to inform you” and “serving his country.”  Then they handed her an envelope.

Life would be different now, that’s for certain. No more letters, no more talks about babies, no more Donny to take her away from her troubles. The one person who loved, understood, and protected her from herself and the world was gone.

The men left, and as the door closed, she felt weak in her knees for a moment. Holly sat down again at the table and wept.