Page 46 of Postmarked December

Chapter Nineteen

It was Christmas morning and, surprisingly, Heather had slept until after nine. It had been a long time since she’d stayed in bed that long. Even though she’d slept really deeply, a part of her remembered feeling during the night as if she were closer to Toby. Perhaps that was why she felt so rested this morning.

And she’d nearly made it through the holiday—stronger than she’d imagined she’d be, but still dealing with the haunting loss of her old life and the man she loved. She had to admit that all the notes had helped her through the season. Before them, she’d been binging her wedding video and sobbing into balled-up tissues. But as Toby had suggested, she got out, pushed herself into the world on a personal level, rather than just going to work, and she’d even met someone who had given her hope.

Although Nick still hadn’t called or texted. And by this point, it seemed he wasn’t going to. Had he panicked and changed his mind about her? Had she somehow come on too strong? Perhaps she shouldn’t have shared anything personal with him. Had she crossed some kind of early dating line? She didn’t know how to date anymore, and she didn’t want to play games. After all she’d shared with Nick, he could at least have had the decency to respond to her.

But it was the holiday, and he did have a life outside of his phone. It still didn’t make his silence right. And she couldn’t really explain away his behavior. But now wasn’t the time to ponder it.

There was something about Christmas morning that lifted her mood. It didn’t matter that she was by herself or still figuring out her life. This morning always brought with it a kind of hope that she couldn’t harness at any other time of the year.

Her thick, woolly socks and fluffy bathrobe kept her warm as she padded downstairs to throw a couple more logs into the fireplace to heat up the living area for the day. She lit the fire with a match from a dish next to the pile of kindling on the hearth and warmed her hands.

After a few poker stokes of the fire to really get it going, she went into the kitchen and made some coffee. The hearty aroma filled the air, giving the morning a nostalgic feel. Growing up, that scent had been present all the Christmases she’d come running down the stairs to unwrap presents.

Regardless of whether she’d ever get to the bottom of Nick’s silence, after a good cry and a sound night’s sleep, this Christmas might feel less like a gap between her two lives and instead more like a bookend. While Toby might have planned these letters, certainly, he hadn’t planned them to continue forever, and this holiday would probably be his final goodbye, which was bittersweet. His notes had been enough to get her through and, in a strange way, they’d helped her see that when she was ready, she could step into her future. While she wasn’t entirely healed, she’d proven to herself she could manage.

The coffee finished brewing, so she made herself a cup with cream and sugar and took it into the living room, stopping to admire the view through the sliding glass doors. A cardinal rested on a nearby branch, its red coloring standing out against the gray sky. The view of the rounded mountains, the snow piled on the branches of the trees, and the ripples on the lake below, made her feel cocooned from the world.

She sat next to the fire and opened her novel, losing herself in the story and letting go of time for a little while. The morning stretched on while she settled into the comfort of her surroundings, warmed by the fire.

Pages and pages later, after she’d finally gotten up to make herself some breakfast and a second cup of coffee, she faced the tree. It was still lit. She hadn’t had the heart to turn it off when she went to bed. The warm golden lights had made her feel less alone.

Underneath sat the three presents, wrapped in white paper with red bows. There was a time not long ago when she would’ve crumbled at the thought of receiving surprise presents from Toby, but now she felt an incredible bond with him because of his gifts. While she still missed him and mourned the future they wouldn’t have together, it was as if they were still in this thing called life by each other’s side, just in a form they didn’t expect. She was actually itching to know what he could’ve possibly dreamed up to give her this day.

Heather sat cross-legged on the floor, set down her coffee beside her, and reached in for the first gift. Slowly, she untied the ribbon. Then she slipped her finger under the tape on one end, pulling the paper loose. She ripped the rest, revealing a box with no logos or printing of any kind. When she shimmied off the lid, inside was a folder and another red-and-white envelope. She opened the note and began to read.

This folder holds new songs you’ve never heard before. I thought about sharing it with you while I was sick, but figured I’d hold out and do it in the grandest way I could think of. They’re entirely yours now. I sent this to my publisher as well, so they’ve got them. I already fulfilled my contract, but I know they’re interested if you want to release more of my music. Do whatever you want with them, with my blessing.

Merry Christmas.

With tears in her eyes, she thumbed through the handwritten sheets of notebook paper, none of them familiar: “Into the Night,” “That Thing You Do,” “Highway 40,” “The Happy One,” “The Place I Call Home,” “If You Don’t”… His music was his entire world, and he kept a lot of his songs under wraps until he was done with them, so by reading these words, she was able to get a little more of him—the version of Toby who strummed for hours on the sofa, scratching down phrases and ideas. This Christmas, he’d managed to give her his heart—all of him.

Above the lyrics, he’d penciled in music notes. She not only had the words, but if she could get someone to read the notes and play them for her, she had the tune as well. Not to mention she had an entire album’s worth, maybe more. While Toby couldn’t cut another album, his talent might be able to live on in other artists.

She held the folder to her chest. Incredible.

Taking her time, she leafed through the pages and sipped her coffee. Surrounded by the rustic cabin and roaring fire, she felt that Christmas hope grow a little bigger.

Thank you for all this, Toby. She sent the thought into the air, blinking away tears, her heart full.

She gazed at the other presents. Toby had already given her enough. What else could she possibly get to top this?

She opened the second gift—a binder and another note. Before looking inside the binder, she read his letter.

In a way, all this was for me too, because I got to plan one more Christmas for you. Seeing you light up was worth all the planning every year. But this time, I’ll need your help. This notebook has all my recipes in it—the ones I used to make for Christmas. The meatloaf is, of course, included…

She laughed, more tears welling up, her heart so full it felt as if it would burst. She finished the letter.

I’ve stocked the cabin with the supplies you need to make whatever you want to bake from these recipes. Choose your favorites. I’ll be right there beside you.

She put her hands over her lips, tears now streaming down her cheeks. All she had left to open was the final gift, and she couldn’t help but feel it could be Toby’s last message to her.

Wanting to stretch the moment, she decided to leave it where it was.

She took the recipes and her mug of coffee into the kitchen and opened to the first page.

Toby’s Sugar Cookies