Letters To My Soldier

Prologue

I raced down the steps on my front porch, my feet slipping and sliding in my haste. I was just so excited at the possibility that I received a reply.

I bounced on my feet trying to catch a glimpse down the street of the UPS mail truck. I fingered the colorful yarn of the scarf that Jess, my adoptive mother, and guardian, made for me. It was blue mixed with some red and green at the ends. Jess was more like a best friend or sister rather than a mother figure. Especially since my mother ruined my views of the whole idea of the maternal figure.

She and her husband, Dean, took me in when my mother died of a fatal stroke. My father left us when I was little so I don't remember him too well. The only thing I know about him is that he wasn't a stranger to the things you could inject into your body, and I'm sure that's one of the reasons he left us. And I certainly never did consider them my parents after I got to know Jess and Dean.

But I'm happy now. Jess and Dean make me feel like I'm part of a family. They welcomed me as a twelve-year-old girl, a stranger, into their home. They cared for me and showed me how to live and have fun. Now, as an eighteen-year-old senior in high school, with a 4.0 GPA and college applications already mailed out before deadlines, my life was good; if not relatively normal. Certainly nothing movie or publish-worthy.

That is, until a month ago.

It's what has kept me glued to my bedroom window, waiting for that UPS truck to pull up to our curb to deliver another one of those letters that immediately brightens my day, even though I've only received a few.

I could feel my hands become sweaty despite the snow falling. My stomach growled because I could still smell the cookies Jess was cooking in the kitchen and I longed for the UPS guy to hurry it the hell up so this anxiety would stop killing me. At this point, I was a few seconds from throwing up if he didn't hurry.

I just wanted to see if I got another letter, and if I did, I wanted to curl up by the fireplace to defrost my toes and fingers. With a glass of milk and a plate of Abby's snickerdoodle cookies, I would read the letter, analyzing it a hundred times until the paper wrinkled and tore at the corners.

I was so lost in the fantasy with a stupid grin on my face that I didn't notice the UPS guy pull up beside the curbside.

"Hey, Miss, are ya gonna take your mail or not? This freezing Connecticut weather is freezing my ass off over here!" he waved the stack of mail at me and my eyes widened in apprehension.

"Oh, right! Sorry!" I said, signing the dotted line for a small package for Dean from his parents-who insisted I call them Gran and Pappy.

I muttered a thank you to him and ran up the frozen steps, grinning at the haphazard that is Dean's attempt at putting up Christmas lights.

I opened the door quickly and blessed the wash of warmth that started to unfurl my toes. I rifled through the mail, discarding advertisements and Jess' yearly subscription to Home magazines.

But then an inch-thick letter appeared on top with about fifteen stamps on it, showing its travels across seas, countries, and states. Grinning widely, I did some sort of squeal/happy dance thing. Hands waving in the air and all.

"Something interesting comes in the mail?" Jess asked with her ankles crossed as she leaned on the archway that separated the kitchen and dining room with a smug look on her face, knowing very well what interesting mail I'd just received.

"I'm just gonna...take this into the living room," I said and arched a brow, her brow contracting upwards in mock imitation.

"Sure, kid...you do that," she snorts and rolls her eyes as I tip-toe away from her care with the letter held tightly to my chest.