Love at First Letter - 3

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Love at First Letter

Chapter Three

                Brett Tinsley,

                I regret to inform you that you wasted one of your questions. Asking me where I live, when you've written my address a few times, probably wasn't the smartest question. But that's alright. I'll tell you anyway. I live in South Carolina. I am twenty three years old. I am an author, I have written one book total so far, but I'm having a little trouble with book number two.

                You gave me two questions that I don't want to answer, and then tell me that I can only skip one. Clever Mr. Tinsley. I think I'll skip number five. Sergeant Tate is my uncle, he was my father's brother. That's how we know each other.

                So, here are your questions.

                How old are you?

                How many times have you been deployed?

                Where do you live?

                If you could have any other job what would pick?

                Do you ever wish you would have picked a different career?

 

                I know number four and number five kind of go hand in hand, but oh well. And I know that I repeated a few of your questions, but they're the questions you just want to know. You are welcome for the fifty dollars and make sure to savor the beer.

                I have decided that I will write back my uncle, but not because you asked me too. So don't get too big of a head, but my friends have been pestering me about it lately. And I've run out of excuses for them. It's just a coincidence that you would ask me the same thing.

                 And I have to admit, writing to you wouldn't be the worst thing ever. So I would like to continue this. Have a good day, Brett.

 

                Your pen pal,

                Hazel

 

 

It was hard to keep the smile off my face when I was writing to Brett. He seemed like a good man, and I could see us becoming good friends. Johanna was currently sitting on my couch flipping through the channels as I stared at the blank paper in front of me. Johanna had told me I wasn't allowed to leave the table until I had written both my uncle and Brett.

But not wanting to open any of my uncle's letters, I was just going to wing it. It seemed like the words just kept flowing onto the paper as soon as the pen hit it, and by the time I was done, I had a couple pages written to my uncle, and the tears were flowing down my face.

I never liked talking about my parents, but it just came out onto the page without me even thinking about it. And I didn't even notice when Johanna got up from the couch and wrapped her arms around my shaking shoulders. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose into a tissue she handed me and muttered, "thanks" before closing the envelope and pushing it away from me.

And just in that moment, Cara come in through the front doors holding take out. Her eyes flickered down towards the tissue and the tear that left my eye. "Are you okay?" She asked, walking into the kitchen and setting the bags down onto the counter top. "What's wrong."

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