Now, however, curiosity propelled her across the room and she took out the letters. She decided to start with the newest, thinking it would give her a clear picture of Thaddeus Whitcomb now. It took some maneuvering, but she managed to get the envelope open and the paper out.
My Darling Daughter,
I have not given up hope that I will one day hold you in my arms again. I hope this letter reaches you and finds you well. Know that I have never stopped trying to find you and will always love you. Please feel free to contact me or visit whenever you like.
Dad
He had included his address and telephone number. Tears misted her eyes. She laid it aside and picked up one that had been written twenty-eight years ago, when she was two. He had been stationed in Germany and included a picture of himself wearing his army uniform. Faith studied his handsome dark features and realized she looked a lot like him. For a while, she read more letters. In each, he always described the place and what was going on. She smiled at his sense of humor. All of the letters ended with him telling her how much he loved her and couldn’t wait to see her. Swiping at her tears, Faith became angry with her mother all over again. Her mother made it seem as though her father had come back as some sort of a monster, yet Faith only saw a man who had been denied the privilege of knowing his daughter. While she acknowledged that she didn’t know a lot about PTSD, by the tone of his letters, it seemed like her father had learned to cope well.
She picked up the picture of him holding her again and felt her emotions rising. Growing up, whenever she’d asked her mother about her father, she’d received the same answer each time—he’d died when she was two and no, there were no pictures. The pain in her heart swelled and she put the letters aside and went back to lie down. She tried listening to music and reading at first, but it didn’t help. Finally, she turned on the television and surfed through the channels, looking for anything that would take her mind off the myriad feelings bombarding her. In the end, she gave up. Her head hurt, the pain in her shoulder increased and she was starving.
Faith ate a handful of almonds, drank more water and snacked on a few grapes, but she needed something of substance. She thought about going out briefly before remembering she didn’t have a car. She didn’t have time for this. Her cell rang, interrupting her mental tirade.
“Hello.”
“Hey, girlfriend. Are you home yet?”
“Hey, Kathi. Yeah, I got home about three hours ago.”
“Glad to hear it. I get in tomorrow at noon and I’m staying until Monday. What’s the name of the hotel where you’re staying? I need to book a room.”
“No need. I have an extra bed.” She gave Kathi her room number and the hotel’s address.
“Even better. That way I can keep an eye on you. Do I need to stop and pick up groceries and stuff before I get there?”
“I have some food here.” Faith opened her mouth to say that she couldn’t cook with one arm, but decided against it. Kathi would change her flight in a heartbeat and be on the next plane out. “But we can go shopping for whatever you need once you arrive. There’s a grocery store a few miles away.”
“Okay. Is there anything you want from your place?” Faith had asked Kathi to check on her house until Faith returned.
“I don’t think so, but if I think of something later tonight, I’ll text you.”
“All right. See you tomorrow and make sure you rest.”
Faith laughed softly. “Yes, Mother.” They talked a minute longer and hung up.
Faith’s stomach growled. Back to the task of finding food. Determined to make it work, she pulled out a small skillet, butter and an egg. How hard could it be to scramble an egg with one hand? Five minutes later, she had her answer. She could stir the egg in the pan, but had difficulty scooping it out. As a result, she ended up burning most of it. Faith stared at the hard, brown bits on her plate and frowned. Sighing heavily, she dumped the inedible mess down the garbage disposal, set the pan in the sink and trudged back to the bedroom.
An hour later, a knock sounded. The clock on the nightstand read eight o’clock. Maybe housekeeping. She sat up gingerly, scooted off the bed and walked out to the front. She looked through the peephole and was surprised to see Brandon standing there. She quickly undid the locks and opened the door. “Brandon, hey. What are you doing here?” He had on a pair of basketball shorts and T-shirt that outlined his muscular chest and washboard abs.
He unleashed that mesmerizing smile and held up a white bag. “Thought you’d might have some trouble cooking.”
Faith sighed in relief. “Bless you. Come in.”
Brandon chuckled. “Sounds like you’re happy to see me.”
“You have no idea. Please tell me that what you have in that bag doesn’t require me to use a spoon and I’ll name my firstborn after you.”
His laughter filled the room. “Brandon is a nice name.” He carried the bag over to the table, took out a disposable container and opened it. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I took a chance on a club sandwich and French fries. Hope that’s okay.”
She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. “More than okay. Thank you.”
He sniffed and surveyed the room. “Were you trying to cook?”
“Yeah. I thought it would be easy to scramble an egg. It was. But by the time I could get it out of the pan with my left hand, it no longer resembled something edible.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You haven’t eaten anything since I left you?”
“I had a slice of cheese, five crackers, a handful of almonds and some grapes.” She shrugged. “It was the best I could do.”
“Then I’m glad I stopped by.”
“Me, too.” They fell silent.
“Well, I only came to drop off the food, so...and I really wanted to see you again.”
His soft confession made her pulse skip. And, truthfully, she had wanted to see him, too. Before she could talk herself out of all the reasons it would be a bad idea to spend more with him, she said, “Then why don’t you stay and keep me company.”
Brandon smiled. “I’d love to.” He seated her and took the adjacent chair.
Faith recited a quick blessing and started in on the sandwich. She was so hungry she devoured the first half in a matter of a few bites. She lifted her head and saw Brandon staring at her with faint amusement. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want some?”
“No, thank you. I’ve already eaten. I’m just glad you’re enjoying my selections.” He leaned forward and braced his arm on the table. “What else do you enjoy?”
She paused with a fry halfway to her mouth. “I like reading, shopping and designing websites.”
“Quite an eclectic mix,” he said with a laugh.
“Hey, what can I say?” She ate another fry. Belatedly, she remembered she hadn’t gotten anything to drink. When she made a move to stand, Brandon jumped to his feet to help her.
“Do you need something?”
“I was just going to get some water or juice.”
“Sit down. I’ll get it.”
Her brow lifted and she lowered herself back down. “Kind of bossy, aren’t you?”
“One of my more stellar traits, I’m afraid.” Brandon retrieved a glass from the cabinet. “Which one, water or juice?”
“I’ll take the juice, please.” Faith continued to eat and thanked him when he placed the glass in front of her. Silence rose between