A reply to: A letter from Mel
First, an apology. I am sorry I haven’t written sooner. I wanted to write to tell you the good news, but life got busy.
In your last letter, you wrote:
“I see that you now refer to Aari as your stepdaughter. Is it what I believe it means, or would my celebration be premature?”
Well, truth is, in my last letter, I referred to her that way as a type of short-hand. Or maybe it was wishful thinking. Or maybe, some combination of both.
But by now, and this is part of the reason for me writing so late, she is, officially, my stepdaughter.
Yup, her mom and I got married.
And, your premature celebration was right on time! You always have been good luck for me. Thank you, Mel.
It was a real wedding, with Ira looking story-book, and all our friends and family in attendance. Well, almost all. My uncle Jasper was coming down with a flu and didn’t want to spread the germs, so he stayed home.
Everybody there had a great time. Everyone except my sister, that is.
She wore her grumpiest face throughout the ceremony and even during the party after.
Ira said she cornered her before the reception to ask philosophical questions about the institution of marriage, like, “Isn’t it a patriarchal relic?” And how does she reconcile it with her feminism?
But Ira was too happy to let Meadow’s cultural analysis stifle her mood.
We danced til dark.
After all the guests left, Ira insisted on doing the clean-up herself.
“We can hire someone to do this tomorrow,” I said.
But she wouldn’t hear of it.
“But is this how you want to spend your wedding night?” I asked.
“I want to get us off on the right start,” she insisted, “and leave nothing undone. Besides, this won’t be how I spend the whole night. This is just the opener.”
I never saw a more glorious dishwasher. Of course, I stayed up with her to dry and put the dishes away.
I’ve seen her face first thing when I wake for many a morning. But now, it feels different. It feels permanent, somehow, and like maybe, it’s a step towards undoing–or at least getting past–all the bad things that happened to her and all the lonely selfish days of my own youth. We’re a couple now, official-like.
I was happy to hear about your horse. I hope both your boys are healthy and that Gari’s ear infection cleared up OK.
In other news, the family business is going well. We’ve got more investors than we need now. I guess solar energy is all the rage these days, and I’m busy. All the staff we kept are working hard, and we’re even hiring new folks. We are, even after our previous set-back, ahead of schedule.
I got a lot to be thankful for, Mel. Sometimes, I stop and think about who I was when we first started writing–a lonely guy, struggling with my business, struggling to find connections, struggling to do right.
Now, I’ve got the business on track, in good shape financially and, more important to me, in line with my environmental ethics. No more windmill raptor deaths in the Windenburg hills! Solar power firing up our town.
My home life is on track, too, more full than I ever imagined it could be.
I’m not sure how much time I’ll have for writing in the busy future. Each day seems more full than the next. Aari has said that she would like to write to you, so if you’re able to write back, maybe you would have the patience to read a letter from her. Or maybe she could write to your boys, and you could read over their shoulder to learn what’s up with us.
I don’t suppose I’ll ever know how to thank you for being a friend and bringing me good fortune. But I bet that you can see into my heart, so look close. All this shining rose color? That’s for you. Thank you.
Wishing you lasting happiness, good health to you, your boys, and your horse, and…