THE MUSIC OF MY HEART - (the short story)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
A devoted, loving couple. A mysterious love letter.
Love in bloom... Now and Forever.

Submitted: February 13, 2008

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Submitted: February 13, 2008

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The Music of My Heart

 

by Gerard Lebel

 

 

It was a bright and brisk late March morning as Art scurried along the edge of the driveway to the mailbox to pick up yesterdays mail and the morning paper. The wind was swirling in loops, blowing a battered, empty metal trash can alongside the broken curbstone, nestled between the road and the old, bumpy sidewalk, gnarled with thick roots from an old oak, tree stump. The deafening, grinding noise of the rubbish truck had awakened Art and Maddy earlier than planned as they were attempting to get some extra shuteye. They had been away visiting relatives the day before and then to a late night screening of “The Little Foxes” starring Bette Davis at the old Pilgrim Theatre in bustling, downtown Clover, New Hampshire. Population 2,822.

Although they had the new, posh Freedom Trail Mall only a few miles away that housed eleven cinemas inside, they loved going to the Pilgrim on Friday nights with its quaint charm . From the long, uphill foyer with its many classic movie posters and elegant 1930’s atmosphere, to the mammoth crystal chandeliers hanging from the gun-metal gray tin ceiling above, the Pilgrim was a true movie buff’s delight. It was open Thursday through Sunday and showed only those wonderful, classic movies from the 30’s and 40’s which they both treasured.

Art and Maddy had met at the Franklin Pierce High School in nearby Plainville three summers before, both attending an evening class at a Granite State Community College creative writing workshop and it was love at first sight. With his initial glance at Maddy’s soft, shiny, chestnut curls framing a porcelain face and the sparkle of her large, aquamarine eyes, Arthur Ross realized he was hooked. They were assigned as writing partners that first night and at Art’s urgent prodding, she agreed to join him for a cocktail after class. And when

Maddy ordered an extra dry Bombay Sapphire martini, straight up, dirty rocks side with an olive at the Roadside Café on the old Route One, that sealed the deal and Art knew there and then that this was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life adoring.

Wrapped in an oh so comfortable, snowy white and warm terry robe with deep, luxurious pockets and clutching the Morning Telegraph News, Art entered the back door of their new home leading into the kitchen.

“I’m going to make a pot of coffee, Maddy,” yelled Art in the direction of the staircase which led to the second floor bedrooms.

“Okay Hon… I’ll be down shortly,” replied Maddy. “I just want to rest here a few more minutes.”

Art tossed the newspaper and the mail on the counter. Three of the envelopes slid across the countertop and did a nose dive, landing on the floor. As he bent down to pick them up and place them back on the counter, he couldn’t help but notice that one of the envelopes was adorned with tiny little red hearts, accented with piercing arrows and was addressed to April Bourgeois, who was the previous owner from whom Art and Maddy had purchased the house just two months prior.

“Hmm,” Art thought to himself as he proceeded to make the coffee, “The mailman must have been in a hurry this morning not to notice April’s name.”

Art pushed the ‘on’ button of the coffeemaker to start the drip process and reached below for a pen in the kitchen junk drawer. He was about to write on the envelope, ‘Return to Sender’, when he suddenly noticed that there was no return address on the envelope. Torn between the actualities that he had no idea where April Bourgeois was now living, his extreme curiosity and the fact that perhaps a returnable address could be found inside the envelope, Art wrestled with the idea of opening the letter. He thought about it long and hard… about ten seconds to be exact ! He opened the envelope and removed two folded sheets of paper, one of which had written on it, ‘OPEN ME FIRST,’ and so Art did.

*******************

My Dearest and Most Precious April,

It’s been a year since we last saw each other. For me, a year of tears and sorrow and heartache. A year of longing and emptiness. A year without any meaning or purpose. I have known no happiness. My life has never been the same without you.

I need you now more than ever, my love. I cannot and will not live another year without you in my life. I don’t want to live another day without you! Please… please give us another chance, April, to love unconditionally.

Enclosed you will find a poem I have written for you. Only for you, my angel. I have desperately tried to reveal my heart and soul to you in these words. I’m still living in the same old apartment in the South End with the same phone number. If my words mean anything to you at all, please call me. I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the night… just call me.

 

With all my love… and all my heart… forever,

Christopher

**************

 

Art, fighting back a single teardrop from his right eye, folded the letter and placed it back inside the heart covered envelope, feeling very awkward and voyeuristic for having read such a personal letter. It was then that he noticed the blue and white letter paper with the blue flower edging which contained the poem. Picking it up to place back in the envelope, he stopped and slowly unfolded it to reveal its contents.

 

*********************

The Music of My Heart

For April,

My love always and only for you.

 

***

You strummed

my heartstrings

knowing unequivocally

how easily

they can be broken,

encouraging

our new love song

to be born.

 

I lingered,

listening to the music

of my heart,

wrapping

you in its melody

once again,

yearning

for your whispers of love

long past the moment of no return.

 

 

***************************

 

Placing the poem back inside the envelope alongside the letter, Art listened as the coffeemaker buzzed to let him know it had finished brewing. Still clinging to the beauty of the words that he had just read and knowing how much he loved Maddy and couldn’t imagine his life with out her, he placed the envelope in his bathrobe pocket for safe keeping. The thought occurred to him that the Realtor may have April’s current address and perhaps he could get it to her that way. All Art knew was that if he had written that love letter and poem for Maddy, he would hope that somebody, somewhere would find a way to do the same for him and get the letter to her somehow.

Feeling his deep love for Maddy more than ever this morning, he turned and without the blink of an eye bellowed up the stairs;

“Hey Maddy, how about breakfast in bed this morning, my love?”

 

© Copyright 2008 Gerard Lebel
All rights reserved

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


© Copyright 2017 gerabel. All rights reserved.

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