Letters on Fire

Lily

It took Ronald more than three weeks to get back to her, but he did.

A smug little smile was playing on Lily's lips since last night when her phone rang and Ron's voice asked her to meet him.

"So," he began in an uncertain voice, "is your offer still valid? Do you think you could come over to my place tomorrow and then we could go for a drink or a meal somewhere?"

"Sure, that would be great," Lily replied happily. "I'll come straight after work, shall I?"

"Fine, perfect. So I'll see you at around eight o'clock tomorrow night?" His voice sounded a lot more optimistic now.

"Yes, defitinely. See you tomorrow then," she said, hanging up.

Lily was really glad that he called. She always liked Ronald and hated seeing him so down, sad and desperate for all those past years. Lily kept trying her luck, to pull him out of his misery but to no effect. Ronald wouldn't listen. Finally, surprisingly, he resolved to give a chance to reason.

Lily parked her small car at the bottom of Ronald's drive. The late summer evening was warm and she was early. She would walk from here to the house. Lily picked up her handbag, locked the car and looked around.

The long, gravel drive was lined with ancient trees on both sides. A gentle summer breeze was caressing their branches, chasing after some fallen dry leaves. First sign of the approaching autumn. The little stones of the drive were making a pleasant sound under her feet. It was such a breathtakingly peaceful place. After the crowded, lively atmosphere of her little cafè, it seemed to her as if the time and place here wasn't the same. It was like a different century on a distant planet. The place felt enchanted.

In front of her, Lily could already see the house, its many windows, white walls and the front steps, the large porch lined with white columns. Lily reached it unnoticed and paused quietly in the shadows of the last trees.

Ronald was sitting on the top of the stairs, completely absorbed in writing something on his laptop.
He was still dressed in his work-out clothes, his brown hair in a neat disorder around his friendly, handsome face.

She had never really noticed before how good he looked.

"Lily!" Ronald stopped writing as he noticed her standing there, observing him in such a quiet and thoughtful manner. "You are early. Or am I late? Sorry, I always loose any idea of time when I'm writing..." The apologetic look in his profoundly blue eyes was accompanied by a boyish smile on his full lips.

"Come in, please, I'll show you around," he begged her, standing up and walking towards the door.

"Do not apologize Ron, it's me, I just didn't feel like staying till the end today. They can close the cafè without me for once, they know what to do," Lily explained, pushing some loose strands of her long, copper hair away from her grey eyes.

The wind was picking up now, as it did on most evenings at the end of the summer.

They entered. The interior seemed dark and cool, compared to the bright, sunlit evening outside.

"Have I just disturbed you from working on your new book?" she enquiered curiously, while taking in every detail of the large room.

Tall bookshelves full of books were lining the walls. More books were piled around on the floor. A large wooden box containing some tubes of paints and brushes was placed on top of a coffee table. An empty canvas waiting to be filled, sitting on an easel by the window. A small, comfortable sofa facing a huge fireplace... all so artisticly messy, but very clean at the same time. She liked it.

"Well, not really, it's just an idea so far, not a book yet," Ronald called from somewhere inside the house.
"Can I get you something to drink? I'll just take a quick shower and then we can go."

"Don't worry Ron, just go get ready. I'm fine," Lily responded, making her way among the piles of books scattered on the floor.
She just noticed a cluster of framed photographs on the mantelpiece.

"I won't be long," she heard Ronald's voice as he disappeared into the bathroom.

There were at least ten pictures showing Ron, Rose and some of their friends, all young, happy people. Not even one photo was from the years following her sister's death.

On one, there were Ron and Rose on a skiing trip, somewhere in snowy mountains. The next one, Lily realised with a surprise, was of herself, a lanky, tall teenager, hugging her beautiful sister. Rose must have given it to him. Then she noticed a smaller picture, completely hidden behind the others, of Ronald and... was it Jake? Yes, it definitely was him.

Jake, Ron's best friend, Lily's first crush. Her infatuation didn't last very long because she realised that Jake, like Ron, loved her sister.
'Did Ronald ever notice Jake's feelings towards Rose?' She wondered silently.

Unexpectedly, Lily thought of something. A missing piece of puzzle falling in its place.
Jake. The letters.

Standing there with the picture in her hand, absorbed in her spinning thoughts, she hasn't noticed Ron watching her from across the room.

He stood there quite still, motionless, dressed and ready to go. Looking at Lily, the beautiful, confident young woman who has never given up on him, standing by his fireflace.
Tall, slim and elegant, a few strands of her straight, red hair falling in her face, coming loose from her ponytail. Gorgeous in her own way, so immensly different from her sister.

As she turned round her silver grey eyes bore into his.

"Ron, I was thinking about the letters you keep receiving. Do you have any idea who sends them to you?" Her gentle voice brought him back to the reality of his life.

"No, Lily, I don't and I don't even want to. If someone has a need to send them, then let them do it. I'm fine."

"No, you are not. Those letters are so cruel and unfair, we must stop them. Have you seen Jake lately?" She blurted out.

"Jake? No, why? I have never met any of my old friends since the accident. Just you. Please leave it, don't worry. I'm ready, shall we go? A dinner, a drink or both?" He asked, desperate to change the subject.

Lily didn't have the heart to pursue the matter further. She decided that she would find Jake and talk to him. She would make him stop sending the letters if it was him.

Lily put the picture carefully back in its place above the fireplace and followed Ron out of the room, the hem of her knee-length dress brushing over the books piled on the floor as she walked.