Letters and Love

Chapter Five: Elizabeth

Waiting for letters had become my main occupation besides caring for Mother. I found myself taking notes of things I wanted to include in my next letter to Mr. Coleman. There were other letters I wrote, to my siblings, cousins, and some friends, but it was my letter to the man out west that I hadn't even met that occupied my mind.

Of course, there were some things that I didn't feel ready to tell him. What would he think of my sister-in-law? Would he be compassionate like Mother, or would he be as disgusted as I was by her behavior? I didn't want to give him a bad impression of my family, so I decided not to say anything about her.

For the first time in several months, I felt like I could leave my mother for a few hours for the Sunday service. It was a delight to see so many friends in one place and the majority of them asked after Mother's health.

At the very least, I could say that my impulse to respond to the advertisement had brought some good. If I hadn't done that one thing, I wouldn't have gone out looking for an answer and told Molly about Mother.

But, of course, I had seriously underestimated how much of an interest Molly would take in my life and how far she would go to help me. She was my closest friend, but her ideas of help differed from mine. Somehow, though, she always managed to persuade me to her way of thinking.

Which was how I found myself in my Sunday best in the middle of the week. I felt overdressed in the summer heat as I walked with Molly towards downtown. Mrs. Parker was with my mother, so I felt no guilt for the day's activity.

I'd never sat for a photograph before and didn't know what to expect. Molly, who'd had a family photograph taken when her younger sister died, told me there was nothing to it and that I'd likely find the whole process boring.

"You'll have to sit and not move," she told me as we made the walk into the town center. "It used to take a long time; I know someone who had to sit without moving for fifteen minutes! If you move, it ruins the picture and you have to start all over again."

"What if a fly lands on my nose or I have to sneeze?" I asked, wondering why I had let her talk me into this. It wasn't as though it was important Mr. Coleman knew what I looked like. His advertisement hadn't specified looks.

"What if the moon falls from the sky or a hurricane hits?" Molly responded cheerfully. "We could stand around all day and worry about all the 'what if's' that are possible. Don't you think this will be a nice gesture for Mr. Coleman?"

"Well, I suppose." And I only said that because I couldn't think of a reason why it wouldn't be a nice gesture. "But won't it cost more to send a photograph? Will he think I want one in return?"

Molly let out a laugh. "And what would be so bad about that? Wouldn't you like to know what Mr. Coleman looks like? After all, you don't want to travel thousands of miles to meet a mountain man with a beard and missing teeth, would you?"

I couldn't deny that I was curious and the picture Molly painted made my stomach clench with anxiety. But...on the other hand, would knowing what he looked like affect how I viewed him? Shouldn't the important thing be our personalities and an agreement of minds?

There seemed no clear answer as we approached the little shop. A sign proclaiming Davis Photgraphy hung over the windows. I didn't know anything about the man. My time had been taken up with Mother's care, so it had come as some surprise to know a photographer had set up a shop at all.

Who would have thought a photographer would find enough business in a town like Peru?

"I'm not sure that this is a good use for my allowance," I said. "Doesn't it caost up to six dollars?"