Letters in Time, Reiss Susan [read me a book TXT] 📗

the man Mr. Saffire had hired to help with things around Uncle Jack’s Cottage. “Then you must be Mr. T. J. Dorset.”

“It’s TJ,” he said gently.

“What?” I asked.

“I go by TJ as if it’s one word, not T. J. with periods and all. I like to keep it simple.”

I was too tired to play games. “Well, TJ without periods, thank you for coming by, but I have everything under control here.”

“Then I’ll say good afternoon.” He nodded as he backed away. “Come on, boy.” The Labrador retriever, with fur the color of snow, bounced up and stood next to him.

TJ touched the brim of his ball cap and was about to leave when my cell phone rang. Boss took my crutches making it easier for me to work the phone out of my pocket. I groaned when I read the caller ID: Lawyer-Heinrick.

“Great, just what I need. If you could give me a minute…” I took a deep breath and was determined to sound friendly as I touched Accept.  “Hello, is that you, Mr. Heinrick?”

“Of course, it is, Ms. Chase. Who else would it be?” he said with a bit of a sniff.

“Well, sometimes it’s your secretary.” I didn’t add, poor woman. “What can I do for you today?”

“It’s more like what could you do for me…days ago. I sent an email, an important one. You have yet to respond.”

Great, I thought, an attorney and a disciplinarian, all in one package.

“Ms. Chase, I was given to understand that you preferred email, but I must have your prompt reply. Without it, how I am to do my job and represent you properly is beyond me.”

I looked down at my leg and wished I didn’t need representation. I remembered running barefoot here at the Cottage. Running with Uncle Jack’s Labrador retriever Prince. Running to climb in Uncle Jack’s boat to go crabbing. Running after fireflies. The doctors still weren’t sure I’d be able to walk normally again, let alone run.

“Ms. Chase?  Are you there?”

“Yes, yes, Mr. Heinrick,” I said quickly. “You are absolutely right.”

“Well…” he said with a huff of self-satisfaction. “I’m glad to hear you say that. I’m not used to being ignored, Ms. Chase.”

“Oh, I certainly wasn’t ignoring you.” If the man hadn’t come so highly recommended as the best personal injury lawyer in Philadelphia, I would have fired him long ago for his condescending and controlling attitude. “I’ve been having some trouble with my email account, but I can assure you that I will respond soon.”

TJ walked into my line of sight and gave me a quizzical look that bordered on comical. I waved him off, afraid I’d laugh.

“See that you do, Ms. Chase. I can’t have my work undermined—”

“Oh, I’d never do that.” I hoped he wouldn’t notice my supercilious attitude. “I will be in touch soon.”

“See that you do.” And with a click, he disconnected the call.

I looked at my phone in surprise. Did the man act like a dictator with all his clients or was there something special about me? Well, this was not the time to figure it out. I put my phone back in my pocket and stretched a little. My body ached. The day’s activities were taking a toll. I wasn’t as strong as I’d hoped, but if I let it show, everyone would bustle around, making me feel even more like an invalid. Invalid. A horrible word. Pronounced differently it meant the same thing: Invalid. Null. Void.

Worthless.

I caught sight of TJ giving me a cockeyed smile. I didn’t want him to read my deepest thoughts. The last thing I needed was pity. “What’s so funny?” I barked. I closed my eyes wishing I could take back my harsh words. I didn’t mean to take out my frustration on this well-meaning stranger, but I couldn’t let him or anyone else see how defenseless I was. And he was such a convenient target.

He jerked back.  “Nothing, ma’am. I was just surprised that you got cell service and held it long enough to complete a call.”

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head slowly, his hazel eyes smiling. “We don’t have good cell coverage down here. The phone companies won’t put up more towers. Guess some big ole cloud bounced the signal for you this time. Don’t depend on it, is all I’m saying.”

As he walked away followed by his dog, I noticed a small magazine sticking out of his back pocket. I wondered what he was reading. “I’ll check on you tomorrow,” he said.

Before I could tell him that it wasn’t necessary, he’d slipped away.

It took Boss and his helper less than an hour to swap things around and move the desk out of the garage in the woods and into my writing room. Wait, I decided to call it my writing den to remember Uncle Jack who loved his den. Virginia Woolf said it was important for a writer to have a special place to work and now, I did.

Seeing the desk nestled in the corner by the window, I felt a strong sense of accomplishment. Not that I’d done anything really, but I did make the decision to move it into the Cottage. After everything that had happened in the past months, with all decisions taken out of my hands, I felt like I’d taken another step forward. This desk would inspire my book, I just knew it. I hoped that the decision to come to the Shore was another positive one.

By the time the moving truck crunched over the gravel driveway out to the main road, the sun was dipping toward the horizon. The water in the creek that ran by the Cottage barely rippled as if it was