A Christmas Delivery
By: Paula Crofoot
Tags: Miracles, Loneliness, Christmas, Love, Short Story

Sheila walked down to the mailbox out of boredom more than anything. She wasn’t expecting anything, not even junk mail. Mail never came all the way out here to the lake unless you actually had friends and family that sent you something. Junk mail proprietors didn’t even care enough about this small area to waste postage.

But as she opened the mailbox, she was surprised to find an envelope. She pulled it out, the paper crinkling from age.

“Laura Jaspers? Who is that?”

She checked the address and it was her address but she didn’t know who Laura Jaspers was and this envelope was clearly very old. She decided to just toss the letter without opening it as it was none of her business. But as she carried it back to her small home by the lake, the envelope crackled open. She peered in and noticed that it was a Christmas card. She frowned, even if this letter was to the correct person, Christmas was still 6 weeks away. She turned the envelope over, peering at the date on the stamp.

Her jaw dropped; this postmark showed the letter had been mailed nearly 50 years ago. She’d heard of mail delay but never anything this severe.

She tried to stifle it but her curiosity got the better of her by the time she got home. She pulled the card out of the envelope, figuring that it wasn’t as if this Laura would be expecting a 50-year-old card anyway.

It was a nice card, angels on the front, with the words Seasons Greeting in silver script. She pried it open, the old paper protesting the movement.

“My dearest Laura,

I know it’s been a long time since I’ve written but I promise I have a good reason. I have been working very hard this year to move my business along so that your father may finally approve of our marriage. I understand his reasoning; he wants to ensure his daughter is taken care of and he wishes for you to have a loving marriage. I have bought a nice homestead on Lake Blackwell. It may not be large but it will be more than enough for us to start a family and have a happy marriage. If you accept, please write back. I look forward to hearing from you, my dearest.

Your suitor, Steven Mansell.”

Sheila stared down at the card, wondering if Steven and Laura had ever gotten together. She chewed her bottom lip in thought, Laura had clearly never received this card. Did Steven take it as a rejection or did he reach out again? She hoped they came together in the end considering the work he’d clearly put into it. She set the card aside, unable to bring herself to toss it just yet though she didn’t know what she’d do about it.

Sheila spent the next two weeks doing research on Laura Jaspers and Steven Mansell. This envelope she’d received in today’s mail contained the latest results. She’d discovered in public records that a Mason Jaspers had owned her home until 25 years before she bought it. There had been two other owners between her and the Jasper family. Steven Mansell still owned the property by the Blackwell Lake but she couldn’t find anything in the records of a marriage. She hoped that he and Laura had married but couldn’t find any signs of what had happened to Laura Jaspers. She’d written the town hall, hoping they may have answers. But now that the envelope is here, she was afraid her adventure might be close to over. She enjoyed her home and while she lived alone by choice, it did get a little lonely sometimes.

She tore the envelope open and found a letter from town hall. She frowned, the letter showed that while Steven Mansell had never married, Laura Jaspers was widowed with two children. She wondered if Laura Jaspers, now Laura Hawkins, had married someone her father chose since she never received Steven’s card. But that made her wonder why Steven had never followed up on his Christmas card. That certainly wasn’t a very steadfast suitor but maybe times had been different 50 years ago?

She decided the best way to find out would be to write to Steven Mansell.

A week later:

She had a letter back from Steven Mansell. He’d, naturally, expressed his confusion but had answered her question. He’d approached Laura after the new year when he’d never had an answer to his question only to find her engaged to Geoffrey Hawkins, a suitor chosen by her father. He wished he’d done differently, looking back but at that time, it was not proper to interrupt family matters.

Since she knew Laura was widowed, she decided to step in, wanting to give them both a happy ending. She did hope she wasn’t messing things up but they were both single and who knew how it might turn out. She forwarded Steven’s 50-year old card to Laura with a note as to what she had discovered.

A month later:

The doorbell rang, confusing Sheila as she wasn’t expecting company. In fact, no one ever visited, it was only ever her and Muffin, her Labrador.

She peered out the peephole, finding an older couple on her doorstep.

She opened the door, “Yes?”

“Sheila Winner?”

“That’s me. Can I help you?”

“Actually, we want to thank you. I’m Steven Mansell,” the older lady piped up, “and I’m Laura Hawkins, formerly known as Laura Jaspers.”

“Thanks to you, we’ve reconciled and are hoping for another several happy years together.”

Sheila smiled, “I’m glad to hear that.”

She wondered if she should perhaps offer some tea or something but she was out of habit with guests.

“We won’t stay long. We just thought if you perhaps weren’t busy, perhaps our grandson could take you to dinner.”

Sheila was surprised, “Oh, uh, I suppose.”

Laura spoke, “You’re not taken, are you? I wouldn’t be surprised, a pretty woman like you.”

Sheila blinked; she hadn’t been complimented in years.

“No, I’m not taken. But I haven’t been on a date in a long while.”

But she agreed to the date and their grandson, though she knew from the town hall records that he was really only Laura’s grandson, would pick her up that following Friday.

‘When that 50-year-old Christmas card finally arrived at its destination, I never realized my journey to reunite the parted lovers would land me with a potential partner of my own.’