Dear Desmond (Love Letters 4)

Now, I’m waiting w

ith baited breath for it to come.

I don’t know if Desmond is coming home. I realize it’s likely too late for his next letter to arrive before mail delivery today, so I won’t know until I wake up alone on Christmas morning. Just in case, I bought him a couple gifts while I was out. I hope he likes at least one.

Since being here for nearly three weeks, I’ve learned quite a bit about him. He has a love for fighter jets. The ones you can build and paint, and hang on the roof or display on a shelf. He has, at least, a dozen around his apartment. One I didn’t see was an older model Storm Bird. By the skin of my teeth, I was able to find one in a hobby shop, alongside a World War II battleship.

“Oh my damn!” I gasp as I see a large pickup truck slowly making its way down the road with my tree strapped to the bed and cascading over the roof.

It’s…everything.

Sinfully gorgeous.

Slipping into my runners, I make quick work of jumping in the elevator and heading for the lobby. As soon as the doors open on the main floor, my heart stops as I watch the two men carrying it through the doors.

“Well, Miss Williams, what do you think?” Andy, the doorman/security guard/my hero, asks, and I just can’t form words.

The colors, the beauty, the sheer size of it is overwhelming.

“It’s wonderful,” I finally whisper.

“Let’s get her up there, then.” The man who brought it from the tree farm smiles as they walk closer.

Leading them up the elevator and into Desmond’s large living room, they place the exquisite tree in front of the window I’d been staring out of earlier. Once it’s settled, they leave, and the quiet surrounds me again.

Admiring the beast of a spruce before me, I smile into the night. I’ve always loved watching the snow fall. Enjoyed it more when it was enveloped in silence. Tonight, though, anticipation fills me. I’m excited about Christmas tomorrow. Even if Des won’t be here, I’m still happy.

Pulling out the decorations I’d found in a thrift store, this tree is going to shine with the most mismatched ornaments in the city.

I found white and pink lights that I drape the branches with first, followed by bright green and red garland in a messy array. Next are the cute handmade elves with letters on each of them, and I imagine they were made for a family. I found the cutest set of snowman globes I plan to put on the mantel over the fireplace, too.

After spraying the fake snow on a few branches, the tree is finished, and I love how it looks. Soft, elegant, not cluttered but full of life. My mother used to muddle up the tree with an overabundance of ornaments. She was always so happy while doing it, so no one complained, but I always thought it was over the top.

All that’s left to do is hang the stockings and put the small treats I found at the grocery store in them and then wrap the few presents I bought. Grabbing the red and green paper with reindeer on it, I begin cutting and taping. Three paper cuts later, a balled-up roll that refused to be folded, and Desmond’s presents are under the tree.

Satisfied, I yawn as I note the late hour. With one last look out the window, I say a quick prayer for Des as I head to bed. Even knowing he’s not in battle, I appreciate the danger is still there, and I worry constantly.

Surrounding myself in his bed after stealing another of his shirts, I dream of my soldier. Of all that I want us to be when he returns.

I dream of the strength in which he’ll hold me while I sleep. Of the way he’ll protect me from the outside world when I feel my worst.

I dream of a love so grand it steals my breath.

Three a.m. and the snow is only now beginning to slow its descent as I approach my condo building. Andy—I swear the man never sleeps—holds open the door for me. “Officer Rowe, glad to have you home again.”

“Thank you, Andy. Is she still here?” My weary stare strays to the elevator. The last obstacle before I have North in my arms for the first time.

“Yes, sir. She hardly leaves.”

I look to him then. “Hardly? It has been nearly a month.”

“She went shopping a couple times, had a big ol’ tree brought in tonight. Though, that was more my doing than hers. But she doesn’t leave too often.”

Interesting. I figured she was a bit of a loner from her letters, but I thought here she would get out some. Explore the city. “Merry Christmas, Andy.”

“You as well, sir.”

I can hardly stand still as the elevator ascends the few floors to my condo. Once the ding announces the arrival, I’m off and through the door in seconds. The fresh smell of pine and cinnamon greets me as I put my bags down and lock the front door once again.