Chapter 32: Secrets Revealed?

“Oh my God!” Rachel screamed at the top of her voice, “It’s gone! It’s gone!”

She bounded down the stairs and headed for the kitchen.

“Beatrice, Beatrice, it’s gone! What am I going to do?”

“Calm down, Dear. I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Now breathe. What’s gone?”

“My letter in the envelope on the desk. I wrote a letter...a very important private letter and it’s gone. Oh my God! What am I going to do?”

“It probably just fell into the trash bin and has been thrown out. All is well.”

“No. NO, all is not well. What if Arthur read it? I’m dead. He read it and he hates me again. I cannot bear going through that anymore. What am I going to do?”

“Well. We can get to the bottom of this when he gets home from the library. You two did not carpool again today?”

“No. We didn’t.”

“You need to get a hold of yourself. I’ll make you some tea and we’ll get to the bottom of this. Then everything will be as right as rain. Okay. Have a seat at the table, please Dear.”

Beatrice turned her back to Rachel to get the water started for tea. She gave her a questioning look and then turned around to see if she had calmed down any.

The tea was exactly what the doctor ordered. As Rachel sipped, she breathed calmer breaths. As she became calmer, she was more rational and willing to listen to Beatrice.

“Now, slowly, please tell me what you are worried about,” she said, sitting across from Rachel at the kitchen table and patting her hand in an attempt to comfort her.

“I wrote a letter that I put in an addressed envelope. But it was a rough draft, just notes, really, and I was not ready to send it as is. I left it on top of the desk in my room. Now it isn’t there anymore.”

“Ok. That’s better. Did you do a thorough search of the room?”

“Yes. It was nowhere to be found. I’m afraid Arthur might have gotten it and read it.”

“I can tell you that he has not been here since he left for the library this morning. Is he in the habit of going into your room?”

“Uh...”

“Right. That’s none of my business. But he is not a concern. Does that make you feel better, Dear?”

“Somewhat. What about the bin being emptied? Do you have a cleaning person who might have been in my room.”

“I do. I’m getting too old to keep things clean and tidy around here, so I have hired a cleaning service that cleans up for me. I doubt you noticed it before, because they just started cleaning your room. They were not aware that anyone was renting the room, so prior to today they left it alone. I meant to mention it to you, but I guess it just slipped my mind.’’

“Oh.”

“Is that an “oh” of relief or an “oh” of worry?”

“Maybe a little of both, Beatrice.”

They stopped talking and sipped their tea.

“They are very trustworthy and would never take anything...”

“Or take it upon themselves to mail a letter that was left on a table?”

“Not at all. I think you are letting your worries from whatever you wrote get to you, Dear. Maybe it is a blessing in disguise.”

“How so,” Rachel said, unable to imagine this situation having a good outcome.

“Well, you said it was a draft of notes...ideas more than a finished letter, right?”

“Right.”

“Maybe the time was not right for mailing it the way that it was. Perhaps it was more of an exercise to get your ideas out for the sake of release and not to send and share.”

“Hmmm....”

“Yes, maybe that’s it indeed. It probably did just fall into the bin while they were dusting and tidying. You can put your worries to rest. It was not the time to release your letter, so the universe made it so it would literally be thrown away. This is why it could be a blessing in disguise.”

“I still would like to have it,” she concluded, with her fears struggling to remain hidden at the back of her mind.

“I can understand that, Dear. Tear it into pieces in your mind and start over or give it a few days before you approach setting your ideas down with pen and paper again. You’ll see. You’ll probably have more clarity this time, if you choose to do so.”

It made sense. Maybe the letter the way she phrased things would have caused her trouble and made it easier to track her down. Maybe it would have made her father even angrier. She tried to embrace Beatrice’s world view.

“I think you’re right, Beatrice. It did feel good to get those ideas and feelings out, you know? Even if my intended recipient never receives it, it helps me to forgive and forget and release all of the emotions surrounding the ideas and feelings I opened up, just to be able to say that I was right and they were wrong.”

“That’s the spirit. Look at it as a blessing that protected you from who knows what.”

“How did you get to be so wise, Beatrice?”

“Years of life experience and lots of opportunities practicing what I learned from those experiences. Now how about another cup of tea, Dear?”

“Thank you, Beatrice.”

“Oh it’s nothing.”

“No. You calmed me down, listened to me, and gave me advice that spoke to my anxieties. I value that. And you did not have to bother yourself with my problems, but you did and I feel much better thanks to you,”

“You’ve brought life back in this house and I feel a kinship with you. You remind me a lot of myself at your age. But I would not go back to my twenties if I had the chance. My seventies suit me just fine.”

Both women laughed, recognizing the merit in the other’s perspective. And then, like clockwork, Arthur walked through the door.

“What has you two ladies in such a good mood, anyway?” He said, kissing each on the cheek in greeting.

“We just finished solving all of the world’s problems. That’s the power of tea and conversation, grandson.”

“Well maybe I ought to join you; maybe you could bring some light to a couple of challenging legal principles I struggled with today.”

“No thanks, Arthur. Sorry, but I think we are just about maxed out for the day. You’ll have to make an appointment for next time, right, Beatrice?”

“Absolutely!”

The evening ended just fine, with all of them having a really nice time together, the closest to family that Rachel had ever had. But even though Beatrice’s kind and wise words had put her in a calmer state, Rachel couldn’t help but feel nervous every time she thought about the letter.