July 30th, 1963
Sunlight caught the corner of my gold rimed sunglasses as I reached excitedly for the brass handle of the front door to the Post Office, whistling to myself. Today would be the day, I just had a feeling about it. Five days had gone by and nothing had been there. I had come by the Post Office each day after 5pm, so as to not be questioned when I slipped out of the house, hoping and praying that another ivory letter adorned with that beautiful sloping script would be waiting in the box for me. Each day I had been disappointed to see it empty.
But not today, today felt special.
I took a giddy breath as the smell of paper and stamp glue floated up to my nose. The postal clerk nodded her head to me politely as I entered, her eyes assessing me in the same curious way they always did.
"Afternoon, Miss Bell." She called, "Back again today are we?"
"Oh yes," I replied with an airy wave of my hand "Just waiting on a special package, I'm hoping it finally arrived."
The clerk nodded, a small furrow in her arched brows, but she said nothing more on the subject. I removed my shades, tucking them away as I reached into my pocket for the key to my box. My heeled sandals clicked softly against the marble floor as I approached #268 with silent anticipation. It has to be here today, I thought to myself, it just has to be. I had given it quite a bit of thought over the past few days, the timeline of his expected correspondence. It wasn't exactly a well kept secret that the president was an avid reader, so it couldn't possibly take him too long to read something like 1984. Even less time was needed to write a letter back in response. Perhaps I had been a little over zealous to return the day after had sent the book to him, but surely after five days...
"Everything ok Miss Bell?"
The clerk had approached behind me while I had been lost deep in my thoughts. I looked up sweetly, feigning an innocent look to mask the flush on my face.
"Oh yes, just swell. The heat's just gotten to me, I'm afraid." I lied easily, casting a concerned look to her "You really are something for enduring the heat in here all day, how do you keep your face looking so put together? Lord knows I can never figure it out."
Now it was her turn to blush.
"Oh it's nothing really, just a little extra powder here and there during the day." She smiled, her gaze less judgmental now as she looked me over again,"But I don't think you need to worry about that dear."
I looked down politely, willing that flush to seem polite as I played with my purse.
"Now I'm truly embarrassed." I said with a little laugh. "You're too kind."
"It's few and far between, so cherish it." She replied with wit, and I smiled genuinely at the remark. "Now go on, open it up."
I was honestly a bit surprised by my quick save, it was one of my more masterful displays of grace. I smiled smugly as I turned back around. Father would be proud.
I finally turned my attention back on the box. Excitement was filling my veins as I chased that feeling from that night five nights ago. The silver key shook in my hand slightly as I eased it into the lock, turning it softly until the old mechanism clicked to signal it was unlocked. I pulled gently, and the door to the box opened with a small creak.
Please be here, I begged to no one.
Finally I dared take a glance inside.
Empty.
The excitement quickly fizzled out, feeling a burning dry feeling in my throat. Empty again. I swallowed, willing a stinging well of tears to quell on my lower lids. The air I had been holding in exited my nose in disappointment.
"I'm sorry dear." The clerk said kindly, "Maybe tomorrow."
That's what I told myself yesterday, I thought glumly as I walked back home. I kicked a nearby rock, sending it hurtling into the bustling road. I don't know why I thought it would come so quickly, it was silly to be expecting it so early, but the lead down still hurt. I passed by a women's parlor, the women sitting inside yammering on underneath salon dryers with magazines in their manicured hands. A woman was sweeping up front, singing quietly to herself as she went.
♩Oh life could be a dream, If only all my precious plans would come true,
If you would let me spend my whole life loving you ... Life could be a dream, sweetheart ... ♩
I scoffed, shaking my head, and kept on walking down K street towards home.
By the time I got home, Evangeline was already heading out the door and there was no sign of life in the house.
"Elizabeth, I'm off to my bridge game!" She called to me as I entered the front hallway, "And please down forget to lock the door to the dog's room before you go to sleep, last time they got into my shoe closet and I cant afford to look another pair of loafers!"
"Good to see you too," I replied sarcastically, stomping up the stairs and winding through the upper corridor till I made it back to my bedroom.
I looked around when I entered, careful to ensure nothing had been disturbed in my absence. Ever since my correspondence with the President had become I had grown increasingly paranoid about the incriminating artifacts that were housed in my locked drawer. But every appeared to be in order, nothing was out of place. It was exactly how I had left it. I turn my things haphazardly on the floor, keenly aware of the emotions welling up in my chest as I flopped down on my bed. I sniffled, my hair ruffling as I buried my face in a pillow. It was a stupid thing to get so upset over, but I couldn't help it. The letters were the most exciting thing to happen in weeks, a small reprieve from the banality of life at home while I was away from my studies. They made me feel so awake, so alive, like I was soaring higher than I had ever dared fly.
It was the most blissful kind of joy, and I wanted more of it.
I had not remembered falling asleep. Hours had seemingly passed by as I lay in my melancholy state, and the the sun had long set in the sky. My room had grown dark, illuminated only by a sliver of moonlight. I sat up, my neck popping painfully as I craned to look at the small clock on my nightstand.
7:45PM
Jeez, had my family really let me sleep right through dinner? I sighed, swinging my legs out of my bed as I crossed my room towards the door. It creaked open as I poked my head out, peering around for other signs of life.
The hallway was silent.
The children's rooms were empty too upon further inspection, even Sasha's. I was truly alone. A part of me was glad. At least I wouldn't have to endure anymore noise for the remainder of the evening. My mind wandered to the library downstairs. It was never this quiet in the house, and I was painfully bored. A nice book might lighten my spirits.
I nodded, feeling slightly mollified as I made my way towards the stairs. At least there was one silver lining to this day, I was so wrapped up in my own dramas that I had completely forgotten that no one else would be home tonight.
My foot neared the first step, then the telephone rang.
"You have got to be kidding me," I muttered angrily, stalking back towards the wall where the phone hung "Who the hell is calling at an hour like this ..."
I yanked the plastic receiver off it's home, pressing it to my ear as I answered in an irked tone.
"Bruce Residence."
"Good evening, I'm looking for Miss Elizabeth Bruce."
It was a man's voice, and not one that I recognized. I frowned, my foot tapping against the carpeted floor as I looked longingly down the staircase towards the library.
"Yes, this is she," I rolled my eyes, letting out a huff of air 'I'm sorry but it's quiet late and I unfortunately don't have much time to chat, would you like to - "
"Are you alone, Miss Bruce?"
My voice faltered.
"I - Excuse me?" I asked incredulously.
What kind of person asked something like that over the phone, and at this hour? For a moment a movie came to mind, a thriller picture that I had seen with Judith. The killer had bided his time till the young woman was home alone before ringing her to tell her she had till midnight to live. Judith had called me the next night and play acted the Killer, resulted in both of us keeled over laughing next to the phone cords with tears in our eyes.
This did not illicit any laughter from me. An uncomfortable knot began to form in my stomach when no one answered.
"Hello?" I stuttered.
There was a silence, save the dull static of the telephone line buzzing, and my chest began to tighten more severely. Then, in a rather calculated sort of evenness as if he could not hear the clear panic building in my voice, repeated his question with the same monotoned voice.
"I'll need you to confirm it verbally, Ms. Bruce." The man said. "That there is no one else in the house. Are you alone?"
I gripped the plastic receiver in my hand tightly, looking around the hallway quickly. There was no one home, just me and the walls of the house that seemed to be condensing upon me with every passing second.
"Well I don't see why that's... who is this?" My voice trailed as I mustered a threatening tone. The hairs on my forearm began to stand up straight. "This is a diplomat's home, sir."
"Are. you. alone." The voice repeated, each word cutting shortly after the other into my ears. As if he were standing right behind me, looming over me in the darkness "Listen-"
That frightened chill within me was reaching a precipice. My back was to the wall, palm of one hand desperately trying to steady my shaking body against it, and breath was slowly leaving my lungs as I sank further into panic.
"No, you listen to me." I spat into the trembling receiver. "I don't have to confirm anything for you. If this is some brainiac's idea of a cute prank call, I'll have you know that can have this number traced and I'll make damn sure that my Father–"
I was cut off, however, across the line by sounds of muttering voices and what I thought was rough laughter. My eyebrows furrowed as my heartbeat slammed against my ribs. And then, as if the handset on the other line had been ripped from the man's hand and taken by another, the voice became muffled. Then a familiar, amused Boston accent filled my earpiece.
"Now there's no need for that, sweetheart."
I froze.
A breathe I had not realized I was holding left my lips, and the hand still gripping the plastic receiver loosened ever so slightly. The panicked pace of my heart was beating to a new rhythm of adrenaline, the same kind of rush it gave me that night on the yacht.
I swallowed, fingers pressed to my chest trying to steady myself and my brain filled with painful fuzz.
"I ... Mr. President, I - I'm so sorry, had I known ..."
"I thought I told you to call me Jack, Elizabeth." He replied smoothly.
"Oh Right, yes I remember ... I'm sorry Jack, I -" I fumbled as if I had forgotten how to speak. He was quick to save me again from my own words.
"Nothing to be sorry for, if anything I should be apologizing to you." He chuckled, his laugh making my body relax against the wall. "When I got your package I wanted to write back straight away, but it seems I've been tied up all weekend. Important tasks always tend to get away from me. You understand, of course."
"I - Yes of course, you must have a lot on your plate Sir." I said with a tremble still in my voice.
He had gotten my letter, he had been thinking about me all week. Was this real, or was I still dreaming?
"Did you enjoy the book?" I found myself asking sheepishly.
"I did, truly. I've been looking forward to ringing you since I finished it." He responded, "I'm ashamed I haven't read it before now, it's a masterpiece of fiction. I now see why your Father called you the intellectual of the family, you have marvelous taste in literature."
A bright blush bloomed across my face, and I picked at my nails nervously as I tried to surprise my growing pride.
"You're too kind, sir, really."
"I'm being serious," He continued with a little chuckle "and I'll admit be the first to admit that I was nervous about calling. I didn't want to find myself justifying a call to Mrs. Bruce. Hence why you're now acquainted with my friend Mr Hartford here. But perhaps the Ian Fleming-esque approach was not as effective as I imagined in my head."
The image of the President sitting next to telephone while his companion called for him, like an anxious school girl mustering up the courage to call her latest class crush, crossed my mind and a small laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
"I think Psycho might be a more appropriate comparison," I managed through a giggle. "given that I was preparing to be attacked by a murderer in my own home."
"Now let's not inflate Mr. Hartford's opinion of his own imagination" Jack responded jokingly, and I thought I detected a scoff on the other end of the line. "This was all my idea, I assure you."
"Hmph, at least now I know who to blame for my newfound migraine on then."
The witty retort left my mouth in a hurry before I had even thought it through. I instantly regretted it. I smacked the wall with my free hand as my face contorted in embarrassment. Way to kill the mood, you idiot.
Rather than be off put by it, the President seemed to be even more amused.
"My deepest apologies, that's not the effect I prefer to have on a lady." He laughed deeply, and my heart skipped yet another beat as it recovered from my previous blunder "Will you allow me the chance to redeem myself?"
"Depends," I said coyly, fingers toying with the cord of the phone excitedly "Will I greeted by Mr. Hartford again or a different murderer?"
"I'm afraid Mr. Hartford's duties will be taking him elsewhere," Jack replied with a mischievous tone "but I promise that I will not inflict anymore new characters on you, on my word as a gentleman."
I let the silence hang for a moment as I faked my own deliberation.
"Fine, you've persuaded me. And what exactly will this entail?"
"Ah ah, too many questions." Was his response, "Why don't you check your mailbox tomorrow, I'll sent you something related."
"So you're just going to leave me guessing till then?" I scoffed playfully, another grin spreading on my flushed cheeks.
"That's half the fun," Jack laughed, "but you can trust that more instructions will be coming. Sound fair to you?"
And I did trust him, nothing in the world could have brought me down from the cloud I was floating on. Life was a rosy haze in that moment, and his voice was like a lullaby drawing me further in. A door slammed down the hallway and my attention snapped back to the phone.
"I think need to go, someone's just got home." I said in a low voice, "but I promise I'll check it tomorrow."
"That's all I need to hear. Sweet Dreams, Elizabeth."
His end of the line hung up before I could respond. The air was still again, only the stark disconnect tone and my ragged breath filling the hallway as chittering voices approached in the distance.
"It's like I was telling you Charlotte, she - Egh! Elizabeth I told you to lock the door to the dog's room when I left!" Evangeline's shrill echoed down to me "My shoes! Oh Charlotte I'm so sorry about this... Lord help me Elizabeth! When your Father gets home tonight, I -"
I hung up the plastic receiver softly on its port, my hands feeling light as a feather as I glided back down the hall towards my bedroom where I could no longer hear Evangeline's shrill voice. I lay in bed staring up at the canopy in a state of utter bliss.
Nothing could compare to this.
I looked over at the clock on my nightstand. Barely an hour had passed since I had woken from my daze, yet so much had changed. I closed my eyes, my mind wandered to the image of him glittering by the river, the vision of perfection. Everything was perfect with him. Everything. I smiled, humming as I drifted off.
♩Oh Life could be a dream,
Sh-boom, if I could take you to a paradise up above
If you will tell me I'm the only one that you love
Life could be a dream, sweetheart,
Hello, hello again, and hopin' we'll meet again, Sh-boom! ♩
. ~ .
And we're back folks! Y'all asked for more and I have finally managed to deliver, sorry if there are typos but I wanted to get this published as soon as possible so bear with me. What do we think of this new development? As always, thank you for being so patient with me throughout this entire process, it's so painful to deal with writer's block especially when so many of y'all have kindly reached out expressing concerns about when I'd be updating this story. I appreciate all of the support and patience everyone has offered, and thank you for following me on this exciting journey. Let me know in the comments below what you think and make sure to vote for this chapter and follow my account ERFolsom for future updates and announcements!
Happy Reading,
-E.R