Read One Lavender Ribbon for Free Online Page B

reach into my soul without destroying my spirit.”
    Sammie rested her chin on her palm. “Sweetheart, if you find Mr. Gentle Hero, let me know. In fact, sign me up for two.”
    “ ‘Where have all the poets gone?’ ” Adrienne wondered aloud.
    “What?”
    “It’s from my favorite poem. ‘Where have all the poets gone? Rhyme with passion left unsung, Even now my heart it yearns, Until my poet prince returns.’ ”
    “That’s beautiful.” Sammie’s gaze drifted slowly down to the table. “Your heart wants a soulmate. Hold out for it. Can I ask you a question, Chicago?”
    Adrienne ran her fingertip along the rim of her empty latte mug. “Sure.”
    “Why did you come here?”
    “The coffee shop?”
    Sammie cast her eyes heavenward. “No. Here.”
    “Oh, you mean why did I go to a town I’ve never been and buy a two-story, dilapidated handyman’s special? Key word being handy man’s special?”
    Sammie chuckled. “Yeah.”
    Adrienne pulled a deep breath. If anyone could understand the need for independence, it was Sammie, a woman who seemed to live by her own set of rules. “I needed to know I could do something on my own, something out of the ordinary.”
    “Why else?”
    Adrienne dug a little deeper into her heart. “For once in my life, I didn’t want to do what everyone expected of me. Eric expected me to stay in Chicago. Mom expected me to move home to Missouri.”
    “Bingo.” Sammie pointed an index finger at her. “Good girl syndrome. You needed to prove yourself on your terms in your way. And do you know why?”
    Adrienne shook her head.
    “Because you’re sick of doing what’s safe. You wanted to do something dangerous. Unexpected. Something with as much likelihood of failing as succeeding. You’re challenging yourself to be a better woman. Way to go, Chicago.”
    Sammie was right. From the time she was a little girl, Adrienne had been taught to play it safe. First by her mother, who could find the danger in a marshmallow— Don’t ride your bike by the road. Don’t cross the street alone. Don’t play too close to the picture window. Then Eric, with a whole new set of rules: Don’t laugh so loud ; you sound like a horse. Don’t smile so big ; it makes you look fake. Don’t stand like that ; you look like an old woman.
    Oh, she’d been trained to be the perfect daughter, then the perfect wife. It was time to take some risks.
    She pushed Eric from her thoughts because he didn’t deserve any more of her time. Instead, she stared at the photo, thought about William—risk taker extraordinaire—and tried to imagine him as an eighty-year-old man. Time would have changed his looks, but what about the tender heart and his gift for words? Maybe he’d laugh at the letters, remembering the passion, intensity, and fragility, like spun sugar of young love. Or perhaps his eyes would fill with tears, remembering death and war and pain. She had no way of knowing.
    “You thinking about the letters?”
    Adrienne crossed her arms in front of her on the table. “Am I that easy to read?”
    Sammie tilted her head from side to side. “Pretty much. Which one is your favorite?”
    “All the ones I’ve read.” Adrienne rolled her eyes. “But there is one that’s particularly haunting.” She reached into her jacket pocket.
    “You brought it?”
    Adrienne’s head bobbed up and down. “Thought you might like to hear one. Have you ever heard of Bastogne? William doesn’t mention the exact location, but a bit of digging online confirmed that’s where his unit would have been.”
    Sammie’s gaze narrowed. “Maybe in high school history class, but that was a long time ago. Battle of the Bulge, right?”
    “Listen to this . . . ”
     
December 1944
Dear Gracie,
     
I am cold. I miss the warmth of your smile and your gentle touch. This is a desolate place. All is silent except for a chilling wind that moans above us. It is a ghost voice taunting us, telling us we will not survive. We