First Love is Never Forgotten
- By Robert Faulkender ©
When Ted surfaced late morning of the second full day at home, he sat in the kitchen with a fresh brewed cup of coffee. As Mattie returned the pot to the stove, she pulled down a smudged envelope from the cup shelf. “This came for you about six weeks ago.” She slid the letter across the table then got busy with the kitchen.
Now who could possibly know I was ever coming home?
He picked up the envelope. The handwriting was neat, flowing, feminine, addressed to Edward Skillman; return address: Samuelson, Holliday Creek, Texas.
Instantly he tore off the end of the envelope, pulled the note and read:
Dear Sheriff Skillman,I had hoped that one day we would meet under different circumstances. I have rushed home from
St. Louis as Father has had a stroke. He is not doing well and indicated he would like to see you.
Should this note reach you, and you are so disposed, we would welcome your visit.
Fondly,
Leitha
Ted Skillman stared at the letter. Leitha Samuelson was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. His interest in becoming sheriff of Holliday Creek had definitely waned when Leitha moved to St. Louis.
Mattie sat down at the table, speaking softly, “When you leaving, son? ...Oh, don’t look so surprised; yes, I read it. You think you can go off for near ten years with nary a word; and then comes a letter to you, and I’m not going to read it?”
Ted swelled with excitement. Had he really buried memory of Leitha? He looked at his mother. “Would it be too upsetting if I left this afternoon?”
Mattie studied her hands. “Not upsetting at all, if there’s a possibility of grand children sometime.” She smiled and nervously wiped the corner of her eye.
“I can be out of here right after dinner.” He paused just long enough to acknowledge his mother’s sadness with a kiss on the cheek.
Thoughts of seeing Leitha again crowed out any genuine concerns he had for old man Samuelson.
Just the sight of Leitha's hand writing unlocked memories long seal away.
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