Letters From Home

My breath fogs up the window. It's snowing outside and Lily has music blasting from her room upstairs, some screamo crap that mom would hate if she was here. But she isn't home from work yet, and Lil and I had the day off school. I look down from the window at the book I was trying to read, "Julius Ceasar"... not really the best read ever. I set the book down on the night stand and head downstairs for a glass of chocolate milk and some much needed TV time.

I've just settled down on the sofa, when the doorbell rings. Ughh. I think as I lug myself up and over to the door. It's the mail man. Our box was hit by the plow last week and dad hasn't gotten around to fixing it yet, busy doing Lawyer stuff I guess. Anyway, the mail guy brings everything to the door now so it doesnt get all wet out in the snow.

I smile and say thanks, then quickly shove the door shut to keep the cold out. Flipping through the envolopes on my way to the kitchen, one falls out of the stack. I pick it up as I set the others down on the counter. It's addressed to my mother, no surprize really, she is the only one that ever gets mail anymore, everyone else just uses email. It's from a new address though, New York... thats wierd... I didn't know mom had friends in New York... Then again, grandma lives in New York, maybe she sent us a christmas letter or something?

I'm curious, but its addressed to mom so i'll just wait and see who its from when she gets home.

I sit in watching Glee reruns for about an hour before falling asleep on the couch. When mom wakes me up its time for dinner, and I slept through my favorite episode. At least we have it on tape... dad isn't home yet, as usual, so lily mom and I are the only ones at the table, even though dads place is set, like it always is. I think mom wishes that if she puts the place out for him that he will come home to fill it, she hasnt figured out that that isnt going to happen anytime soon.

Lily is all done up in black, going through some wierd goth stage, and mom the psychologist says that she should be able to express herself as she wishes... even if we all have to suffer through her screamo music and black lipstick and Wednesday Addams frown 24/7. Sigh. We go through the whole bit, "How was your day?" " Do anything exciting?" "Learn anything new?" and since we had the day off school- because we dont usually get this much snow and the plows werent expecting it- nothing "new" or "exciting happened today, so our conversation boiled down to pretty much nothing.

But then i remember the letter from New York...


"Yes, hun?" she doesnt even look up from the cross word she has started, I mentally sigh and move on,

"Who do we know from New York?"

"Grandma Jo lives in New York, You know that silly girl," she laughs, My mother still talks to us like we are two, not exactly sure why. Maybe it's part of her psychologistness coming home with her, or maybe she just doesn't want us to grow up? who knows, maybe it's just a mom thing.

"I know that but we got a letter from New York today and I was just wondering who it could be from, grandma Jo doesnt usually send letters,"

"That is wierd, I'll check that later. Maybe its something she wanted to send in writing?" she says offhandedly, "Do you know who the fourteenth president was? hmm..." She is still going at the cross word, probably doesnt even know what we are talking about. Great.

"Can I please be excused?" I ask, i'll just go check it myself.

"Yes you may sweet heart, please put your plate in the dishwasher!" she calls as I walk through the house. In the kitchen I put the plate on the counter and pick up the envelope. First I examine the outside, the writing is loopier than grandma's, more slanty and cursivey. Hmmm, I open it slowly and inside is a piece of notebook paper. The letter was not from my grandma at all, but someone i had never heard of... It is signed by Jamie Harris. I check the front of the envelope to make sure it's meant for us, and it has our right address and my moms correct naming, Dr. Jane Thomas. But I had never heard of a Jamie Harris... so I continue to investigate by proceeding to read the letter.

And my heart nearly stops when I see what it has to say.

The End

7 comments about this story Feed