The Ghost Of Willow’s Past-5
449 Words
Amy had left his bed reluctantly this morning and returned to her own apartment to face cleaning out her mother’s life. Knowing she was dying, her mother had dealt with most of it, but what remained was still too much. Amy had never felt so helpless.
Half an hour later Dusty had arrived bearing a dozen red roses under one arm, and boxes and garbage bags under the other. He didn’t go until all that remained was the cleaning and deciding where to store her own meager belongings. They were all hers now. Maybe she’d ship them to Fort Campbell for lack of anywhere better.
Amy knocked on Dusty’s door and waited, ignoring the pleasant tingle running up and down her nerves.
Dusty’s invitation hadn’t been a casual, “Hey, want to come over for dinner?”
Instead, as he left, he’d slipped a card among the roses. The note had read: “Master Sergeant Dustin James hopes that Master Sergeant Amelia Patterson will join him for a casual Christmas Eve dinner this evening at six.” Dustin? Odd that she felt so close to him, had slept with him, and hadn’t even known his full name.
The invitation didn’t leave her a lot of choice, unless she really wanted to disappoint him. She considered that and decided she didn’t want any other choice anyway.
He’d said casual, so, after trying on three different dresses she’d selected dark green slacks and a red silk top. Her hair was too short for her to do anything other than wash it, and she’d never been a fan of makeup. Casual he asked for, casual he’d get.
When he opened the door, she simply stepped into his arms. He turned her just enough to close the door and held her tight. Had she ever found a place she’d been happier than in Dustin’s arms? Not a one that she could think of as she breathed in the wonderful smell of him. Man and…
“Is that roast beef?”
“Not mine, though I can cook a mean one. I went down to Elephant Deli. Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, and a treat for dessert. I did make the peas with those little onions myself.”
“From frozen.”
“Only the best for Amy.”
She laughed and slid back into his arms.
“So, tell me more about your parents’ son, Dustin. He strikes me as an interesting chap.”
“Well, there was a young boy named Dusty. He had a silent father who loved three things in life: his wife, his son, and his garden.” Dusty led her toward the table in the living room. It was now cozy and friendly. While she’d been cleaning her mother’s place, he must have been hauling everything out. “And Dusty had a mother who loved laughing.”
7
Willow waited. For almost a hundred years, every Christmas Eve someone had come. Willow waited, hoping. Old roots full of broken dreams could do no more.
- Writer
