Laura's Second Chance (Widows of Virginia Book #2)(2)

When the dark mahogany floor was once again clean, Laura went to her spinning wheel in the back room. She wished someone would come in and make an order, but business did not flourish. In fact in the recent months she’d mostly had commissions for repairing and stitching dresses and shirts by hand. And there was no point for her to spin another dress for the shop window… Her mind wandered back to the letters, to the women in the West Robert described. Only one person in the whole town had a spinning wheel! Everyone else did everything by hand.

Finally she settled behind a small desk by the window, picked up patches of cloth from the pile beside her, and began stitching. She preferred dressmaking to repairs, but the bills had to be paid and it provided a way to pass the time as she waited for a customer.

A few hours passed, yet no one came. Not even Mrs. Dunne.

*

Night had fallen by the time Laura got home. Susan had almost finished preparing their meal. Laura greeted her, but the smile on Susan’s face didn’t quite reach her eyes. She had loved her brother dearly…

“Samuel, not back yet?” Laura leaned in to check if Susan’s husband sat in his favorite armchair with the evening paper.

“Not yet. He’s working late tonight.”

“Need any help?” Laura asked.

“Oh, no.” Susan shook her head and stirred the pot with a ladle. “You go freshen up, dinner is almost ready.”

Laura nodded and turned to the hallway. Despite not being much older than Laura Susan had always been motherly towards her. On some days it made Laura want to rebel against being treated like a child, but on others she welcomed the affection.

She passed her old room, the one she used to share with Anton, and headed for the one beside it. She couldn’t sleep on that bed, now cold and empty. In that room she was constantly reminded that it was meant for two people. Laura found the small guest room a welcome respite from the memories of her late husband.

She sat in front of the dresser to unlock one of the drawers. The latest letter from Robert weighed heavy in her pocket. She hadn’t dared open it earlier – not knowing what he wrote she couldn’t risk someone seeing her reaction. Laura sighed and took out a roll of parchment and a quill. If her silence hadn’t deterred him it was probably time to respond.

I’ll thank him for everything that he has done. Tell him how blessed I was for receiving support from him after so many years. Maybe even mention how his poetry… No. Laura shook her head. I shouldn’t encourage him.

She looked up at Anton’s picture, and her heart swelled again. She took a deep breath and dipped the quill in the jar of ink.

The words did not pour easily out of her so Laura was relieved to hear Susan call her for dinner. She hid the letter inside the drawer before joining her friend - and only family - for the meal.

“You’re quiet today.” Susan took another sip of the stew while Laura stirred a spoon in her bowl. “You’ve barely touched your food.”

“Must be the weather…” Laura fished out a piece of potato and let it melt in her mouth. “The food is delicious, as always, it’s just-I’ve got a queasy stomach.”

Susan frowned, obviously not convinced that it was Laura’s stomach that was causing trouble. She probably thought it was Laura’s queasy heart…

But she did finish half the bowl before retiring to her room once again.

When morning came, Laura left for her shop as usual, but on the way she made a detour. She stopped by the postal office and as she stood in the queue her heart raced. Was everyone staring at her? Would they whisper about her letters by the late afternoon? Finally it was her turn. For a moment she hesitated before stepping forward. With a shaking hand she pulled out the envelope and handed it to the man on the other side of the counter.

She left the post office in a hurry and went straight to church. Had she made the right choice? His wise words had always given her strength before, still even writing that letter felt like a betrayal of Anton. Laura looked around the empty building save for the two people lighting candles near the dais. Glad for the privacy she slipped into one of the pews towards the back and prayed. Her hands trembled when she brought them together. The last time she was here, she was tempted to curse the Lord for her husband’s death. But now...

*

Laura bent down to pull a stubborn weed out of the ground. She liked to garden every Sunday morning. She would cultivate the vegetables that she and Susan grew at the back of the house and keep the beds free from weeds. Cleaning out the weeds helped her clean out her mind before going to church later in the day.

Three weeks had passed by without a word from Robert. Laura’s hope flickered like a candle in a strong storm, weak and about to go out any minute, the newfound vigor from before slowly left her.

Robert might have thought that she assumed too much. Maybe she sounded like a pathetic and needy woman. Her thoughts became more absurd by the day. What if he misinterpreted what she’d been trying to say? She just needed him to know how much she appreciated his letters and that his words encouraged her to find reasons to go on.

“Looks like Robert hadn’t thought of anything nice to write to you.”

Laura stood up to take a break and glanced over her shoulder at Susan sweeping dead leaves off the porch. “Huh?”

“Did you finally tell him to stop?” Susan continued. “I heard you went to the post office some weeks ago. Was the letter for him?”