Penned Read Free

post office before they closed.
     
    I hope he gets it in time, and this whole charade will end .
     
    But her heart made a queer tumble at that notion.
     
     
     
                                                                                        * * * *
     

The answering missive came Monday when Pam checked the mailbox after work.
     
    Her exhaustion from the long day fell away.
     
    “That was fast.” She didn't bother getting inside before tearing into the letter as she strode up the walkway toward her house.
     
    Dear Pam,
     
                  I think you are the one I'm looking for. I'll see you at seven, and we can find out.
     
                                                                         R
     
    “Oh, my God.” She let herself into the house, her breath whooshing out.
     
    He still wants to see me.
     
    She took her cell phone from her purse and punched in Janey's number.
     
    After too many rings, her friend picked up, breathless.
     
    “Janey, I need your advice.”
     
    “It's kind of a bad time.”
     
    She swallowed hard. “I'm sorry, but I just need a minute.”
     
    Janey sighed. “Okay. I can tell you do. What's up?” A voice whispered in the background, and Janey giggled.
     
    Pam rolled her eyes.
     
    “It's the letters. ‘R’ isn't Ross. At least, I'm not sure if he is.”
     
    Janey laughed. “Well, why didn't you ask him in your last letter or just pick up the phone and call him? Are you afraid to find out?”
     
    “Not really. He had an unlisted number and then when cell phones became popular, he used his as a main phone and cut his landline, oh, God, seven years ago now, I guess. He was always changing numbers and plans. It's a thing with him. He's isn't in the book.”
     
    “So. What are you going to do?”
     
    Pam bit her lip. “I don't know.”
     
    “Going to meet him somewhere? Isn't that how these torrid, blind love affairs usually go?” Janey snorted.
     
    “Yes, I am, or I wrote him that I would. I'm just not sure I should go.”
     
    “Live a little woman, and have your cell phone in hand to call the cops if it's not Ross, and you need help.”
     
    “Janey.” She groaned and giggled.
     
    “I mean it. Gotta run. I want to hear all about it after it goes down.”
     
    “Maybe. Bye.” Pam clicked “end” and stood there for a long moment.
     
    “I have a date for the first time in over a year, and it's with a total stranger who might be a psycho, for all I know,” she whispered.
     
    Pure terror stole over her, turning her icy cold.
     
    “Shake it off, Pam.” She picked the letter up and read through it again. All the compliments warmed her.
     
    He can't be all bad if he can write like that.
     
                                                                                        * * * *
     
    She heard nothing else from “R”, and by the next Thursday evening, Pam was a ball of nerves.
     
    Before bed, she tore through her closet, looking for the right outfit.
     
    “Something sexy. It's going to be bad enough when he takes one look at me and tells me to leave.” Tears brimmed in her eyes at the thought.
     
    Dammit. Why do I care? It was just a stupid bunch of letters to the wrong person, most likely.
     
    There was still a little hope it had been Ross but not much.
     
    He's not a “change” person—other than with his stupid cell phone, which he was always changing plans for a cheaper one. He wouldn't have moved from the nice place he already had.
     
    Pam stood before her full-length mirror, the one that had been more unkind to her as the years passed. She squinted, gazing at herself without flinching.
     
    Her long, ash blonde hair was shiny, her facial structure strong for a woman of forty—no sagging or