Chapter 2 - THE LETTERS I NEVER RECEIVEDGarrett stared at Sally beneath the railroad overpass as trains groaned somewhere above them.
“I never received anything.”
Sally laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“I know that now.”
Emma looked nervously between them.
“Mommy?”
Sally immediately softened.
“It’s okay, baby.”
She handed Emma the bowl of stew.
“Go sit with Miss Nora for a minute.”
An older woman wrapped in two mismatched coats waited several yards away beside a shopping cart filled with blankets. Emma reluctantly walked toward her.
Before leaving, she looked back at Garrett.
That glance hurt more than any accusation Sally could have made.
Garrett lowered his voice.
“Start talking.”
Sally stiffened.
“You don’t get to command me.”
“You just told me that child is mine.”
“And you just humiliated me in a food line.”
Garrett flinched.
“You’re right.”
The apology surprised both of them.
He looked toward Emma.
“I shouldn’t have said it.”
“No.”
“I was angry.”
“You’ve been angry for four years.”
“And you disappeared.”
Sally’s jaw tightened.
“Because your mother told me you wanted nothing to do with me.”
Garrett stared.
“My mother?”
Sally reached into her coat and removed a battered plastic pouch.
Inside were several folded papers.
She handed one to him.
The paper had been folded so many times the seams were beginning to tear.
Garrett opened it.
His name appeared at the top in Sally’s handwriting.
Garrett, I know you hate me, but I am pregnant. The baby is yours. I need you to know the truth about Julian before you decide what happens next. Please call me.
Garrett looked at the bottom.
There was a date.
Four years and eleven months earlier.
Before Emma had been born.
His fingers trembled.
“I never saw this.”
“I sent the original to your mother’s house because you were deployed and she told me your military mail was being forwarded through her.”
“That wasn’t true.”
“I know.”
Garrett looked at the next sheet.
Another letter.
Then another.
Photocopies.
Certified-mail receipts.
One had been marked REFUSED BY RECIPIENT.
Garrett’s stomach tightened.
“I wasn’t even in the country when this was refused.”
Sally nodded.
“I sent six.”
“Why didn’t you contact my command?”
“I did.”
Garrett stared at her.
“My mother told them I was unstable.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It didn’t have to make sense. She had your power of attorney while you were overseas. She knew your schedule. She knew where everything went.”
Garrett’s mind raced backward.
His mother, Margaret Milford, had handled bills and legal correspondence during his deployment after his father’s death.
She had insisted it would reduce Garrett’s stress.
He had trusted her completely.
“Why would she do that?”
Sally’s expression became hollow.
“Because she hated me long before Julian ever appeared.”
Garrett remembered.
Margaret had never believed Sally belonged in their family.
Sally’s father had been a mechanic.
Her mother cleaned hotel rooms.
Garrett came from old Philadelphia money, or at least what remained of it.
Margaret spoke politely to Sally in public.
Privately, every compliment carried a blade.
Still, destroying a marriage was different.
“You said Julian,” Garrett said. “Explain him.”
Sally folded her arms tightly against the cold.
“He wasn’t my lover.”
Garrett almost laughed.
“I saw you leaving the Beaumont Hotel with him.”
“Yes.”
“I saw messages.”
“Yes.”
“You admitted you’d been meeting him.”
“Because I was.”
“Then what exactly am I supposed to believe?”
“That Julian Cross was helping me investigate your father’s company.”
Garrett’s anger vanished.
“My father’s company?”
“Milford Maritime.”
“My father had been dead eight months.”
“And somebody was stealing from the employee pension fund.”
Garrett stared.
“My mother told me the company was struggling because contracts had fallen.”
“That’s what she told everyone.”
“What does that have to do with you?”
Sally looked toward Emma.
“Your father called me two weeks before his heart attack.”
Garrett stopped breathing.
“He called you?”
“He asked me to meet him privately. He said he had discovered irregular transfers. He was afraid someone close to him had been moving money through shell companies.”
“Who?”
“He didn’t know yet.”
Garrett shook his head.
“No. My father would have told me.”
“You were preparing for deployment. He said he wanted proof first.”
“And Julian?”
“Financial investigator. Former federal auditor.”
Garrett remembered Julian.
Tailored suits.
Luxury car.
The photographs of Sally entering restaurants and hotels with him.
Everything had looked exactly like an affair.
“Why hide it from me?”
“Your father made me promise until he had evidence.”
“My father died.”
“Yes.”
“Then you could have told me.”
“I tried.”
Garrett remembered their last month together.
He had been raw from grief.
Exhausted.
Suspicious.
His mother had repeatedly hinted Sally was becoming distant.
Then photographs appeared anonymously in Garrett’s email.
Sally and Julian.
Sally touching Julian’s arm.
Julian opening a hotel door for her.
Garrett confronted her.
She refused to explain details because Julian believed their investigation had been compromised.
Garrett had thrown his wedding ring across the kitchen.
He had told Sally to get out.
His mother arrived thirty minutes later.
Garrett had left for base.
By the time he returned, Sally was gone.
Garrett looked at her.
“You were pregnant then?”
“I found out six days after you threw me out.”
His throat tightened.
“And you never came to me personally?”
“I drove to Norfolk.”
Garrett frowned.
“You were deployed.”
“Not yet. You were completing pre-deployment training.”
“How do you know?”
“I called your mother.”
Garrett closed his eyes.
Of course.
“She told me you had requested I not be allowed onto the base.”
“I never did.”
“She showed me an email.”
“From me?”
Sally nodded.
Garrett felt sick.
“What did it say?”
“That the child was probably Julian’s and if I contacted you again, you would file for a restraining order.”
Garrett looked toward Emma.
Four lost birthdays.
First steps.
First words.
Four Christmas mornings.
He had missed everything.
His hands curled into fists.
“I want to see the email.”
“I don’t have it anymore.”
“Why?”
“My phone and laptop disappeared after the shelter fire.”
Garrett frowned.
“What shelter fire?”
Sally hesitated.
“That’s why we’re on the street.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“You were living in a shelter?”
“For six months.”
Before Garrett could respond, Emma began coughing.
Not a small cough.
A deep, rattling cough.
Sally immediately hurried toward her.
Garrett followed.
Emma pressed one hand to her chest.
Sally crouched.
“Slow breaths, sweetheart.”
Garrett saw panic in Sally’s eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“She has asthma.”
“Does she have an inhaler?”
“The shelter lost her spare during the fire.”
“Where’s the other one?”
“Empty.”
Garrett stared at her.
“Why haven’t you replaced it?”
Sally looked at him with exhausted fury.
“Because it costs money, Garrett.”
Something inside him broke.
He had spent eight hundred dollars on a watch repair the previous month.
His daughter was rationing medicine.
“Give me your things.”
Sally stiffened.
“What?”
“We’re leaving.”
“No.”
“Sally—”
“We are not going home with you.”
“I didn’t say my home.”
“Then where?”
“Hospital first.”
“It’s not an emergency yet.”
“It becomes one if she can’t breathe.”
“I know how to manage her asthma.”
“I’m sure you do.”
His voice softened.
“But you don’t have to manage it alone tonight.”
Sally stared at him.
Garrett took his coat off.
“You’re going to freeze.”
“I’m wearing three layers.”
He wrapped the coat around Emma.
The child disappeared almost entirely inside the white wool.
She looked down at the gold trim.
“Are you a prince?”
Garrett blinked.
Sally almost smiled despite herself.
“No, sweetheart.”
Garrett crouched.
“I’m Navy.”
Emma considered that.
“Do you have a boat?”
“Sometimes.”
“A big one?”
“Very big.”
Her eyes brightened.
Then she coughed again.
Garrett’s smile disappeared.
He stood.
“We’re going.”
Sally looked torn.
Finally, she nodded.
“One night.”
Garrett glanced at her.
“One night?”
“A hospital, motel, whatever you’re planning. One night. Then we talk.”
“Fine.”
Garrett started walking toward the street.
Emma called after him.
“Mr. Navy?”
He turned.
She held up the bowl of stew.
“Can Miss Nora come too?”
Garrett looked at the older homeless woman.
Sally whispered, “She kept Emma safe while I was looking for work.”
Garrett nodded.
“Yes.”
Emma smiled.
“Thank you.”
Garrett looked away quickly because tears had suddenly filled his eyes.
Thirty minutes later, while Emma slept in a hospital bed under warm blankets, Garrett stood alone in the hallway staring at one of Sally’s copied letters.
His phone rang.
MOM.
He answered.
“Garrett, darling, Daniel told me you left the charity event unexpectedly. Is everything all right?”
Garrett looked through the glass at Emma.
Then at Sally sitting beside her.
“No,” he said.
His mother paused.
“What happened?”
Garrett folded the letter slowly.
“I found my daughter.”
Silence.
Not confusion.
Not surprise.
Silence.
May you like
And in that instant, Garrett knew.
His mother had always known.
Related Stories
