Smile Garden
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The day of the wedding finally arrived. The church was filled to capacity, and every seat in the sanctuary had been occupied by people from all walks of life. The bride wore a simple white dress with an intricate lace overlay that looked as if it were made for her.
She glowed under the attention she received; her eyes shone brightly as diamonds in the morning sun. Her smile seemed to stretch from ear to ear. It was clear to everyone that this young woman’s heart belonged solely to one man—and that man was standing next to her now.
He was dressed in a black suit that fit him perfectly. His hair was neatly combed back and his face clean shaven. He didn’t have time to shave before leaving on the trip to town so he’d left the house at dawn.
“I can’t believe I’m getting married,” said the bride. “It seems like only yesterday when I first laid eyes on you.”
“Well, there are two things about me that are true,” he replied. “First, I fell head over heels for your beauty, but second, it took a while before I realized I loved you more than my own life.”
“Oh, Ben! You’ve always been my hero!”
Ben placed his hand gently on her cheek. They stared into each other’s eyes as if they could read the future. After several minutes, they broke their gaze and smiled at one another.
He turned toward Reverend Evans and nodded politely. The reverend then stood up and gave the invocation. When he finished, he began the ceremony. There were many words spoken during the ceremony that both Ben and the bride found meaningful, but what meant most to them was that after almost thirty years together, they still felt the same way they did when they first met.
They weren’t strangers anymore; instead, they were husband and wife. And although Ben knew his wife would never leave him for another man, he also understood how much joy came from knowing someone else cared for her.
They walked out of the church holding hands and surrounded by friends and family. Many of these people who were present at the wedding had been part of their lives for decades. Their friendship and loyalty were something special and rare.
Even though they lived miles apart, they spent countless hours visiting each other on occasion. But even then, nothing beat being together. In fact, Ben sometimes wished that he hadn’t traveled so far away because he missed having someone close enough to visit. Now he had the chance to be near her again, but soon it would end.
After returning home, they held a reception in the backyard where food and refreshments were served. Ben’s mother had baked dozens of pies for the event, and Ben’s father manned the grill. Everyone ate and drank until late in the evening.
By the time darkness settled over the land, everyone was exhausted. Ben and Maryanne retired early. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day, so they needed to get some rest.
As Ben lay down on top of the bed, he heard a knock at the door. Thinking it might be someone from the community, he opened it slowly. Standing on the front porch was the sheriff.
“Sheriff?”
“Yes sir. Sorry to bother you, but we need to talk.”
“What is it?”
“Well, sir, I don’t know if you remember or not, but about five days ago, we got a report of a dead body floating in the river just below the dam. We sent men down there to search for evidence, and today, we discovered a shoe box containing letters and papers. Turns out the victim was murdered.”
“Who killed her? Was it the person who wrote those letters?” asked Ben.
“We’re working on that, sir.”
“But what does any of this have to do with us?”
“Well, sir, I thought maybe you might want to see if you recognize anything written on the paper.”
“All right, come inside. I’ll show you.”
Inside, Ben handed the letter to the sheriff. As the sheriff flipped through the pages, he stopped at one particular page and gasped. “Sir, I think you should take a look at this.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“You mean to tell me that this woman was writing love notes to someone who wasn’t me?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“How long has this been happening?”
“A couple weeks, sir.”
“So she didn’t write me any of those letters?”
The sheriff shook his head no. “No sir. That’s why we brought the matter to your attention. She seemed very fond of you, and we thought perhaps you could help identify her killer.”
“I see.”
“May I ask what happened between you two?”
“Not now, Sheriff. If you will excuse me—”
“Wait, sir! Just let me finish reading this note.”
When the sheriff finally finished reading the last sentence, he closed the book and looked directly at Ben. “Turns out the author of the letter was a lady named Amelia Freeman. She wrote all kinds of letters and poems to you—letters that she mailed to the post office every week.
It was quite obvious she was madly in love with you. I must say, sir, I never expected to find such a beautiful, young widow living alone in the wilderness. Who knows how long she’d been waiting for someone to notice her.”
“I’m sorry,” said Ben. He couldn’t believe he’d fallen for a trap like that. A few months ago, he probably would’ve taken her seriously, but now that he had Maryanne back, he knew there was the only room in his heart for one woman. Not another. “It appears as though Amelia Freeman died twenty-four years ago.”
“Do you mind telling me where you were born, sir?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because Amelia Freeman was from a small town called Mistletoe Falls. And you are from Mistletoe Falls also.”
Ben laughed. “Just coincidence.”
“Don’t try to fool me, Mr. Blake. I’ve worked with you too many times to fall for your tricks. You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
“Of course not!”
“Then I suggest you start packing because you’re leaving tomorrow morning.”
***
In less than an hour, Ben and Maryanne rode toward the train station in Mistletoe Falls. They shared a simple meal before boarding the train. The conductor told them their tickets were paid for by a man named Willy Longfellow, so they sat down and waited until they arrived at their destination.
They found a carriage waiting outside the depot and took it into town. When they reached their hotel, the desk clerk informed them that Mr. Longfellow had left instructions for him to send up the bill when they checked out.
Walking around town, Ben saw nothing but familiar faces. People stared at him curiously. Most people seemed relieved to see him return, and others looked disappointed. At least Maryanne hadn’t changed much over the past several years. Her hair was still black, and she wore a blue dress, which matched the color of her eyes perfectly.
He noticed something was missing, however. Where once there was a necklace, now hung a single diamond ring on her finger. But what really surprised Ben was the fact that he felt no jealousy. In fact, he realized he actually missed Maryanne’s absence.
Maybe that meant he did care after all. Or maybe it simply meant he was falling in love again. Whatever the case may be, he was ready to begin the rest of their lives together.
Maryanne smiled shyly and gave him a kiss.
As they walked away, the sheriff approached and placed his hat on his head.
“Good news,” said the sheriff. “Your wife is safe and sound.”
“Thank God,” replied Ben.
“And the person who kidnapped her turned himself in. We arrested him just yesterday. Turns out, he was the same man who stole Amelia’s body.”
“What?”
“Yes sir. He killed her and buried her in the forest, then came back to steal her remains. He wanted to use the bones to resurrect his dead wife, whom he believed to be Amelia.”
“Well, I guess he got more than he bargained for,” said Ben.
“I know, sir. I don’t want to alarm you or anything, but he confessed to killing two other women besides Amelia. One of them is from New York City. There was a big newspaper story about her disappearance, and she vanished right around the time Amelia went missing.
Seems the two victims had similar features. Both women were blond and slender, and both were wearing pearl necklaces. The only difference is, one of them was thirty-six and the other was thirty-three. Now I think I’ll go check on Mrs. Freeman.”
“Sheriff, wait!” Ben grabbed the sheriff’s sleeve. “Did you read that last line? ‘She’s in a better place.'”
The sheriff nodded. “That’s why I asked you if you mind telling me where you were born, Mr. Blake. I didn’t expect you to say you were raised in Mistletoe Falls. That explains everything.”
“You mean to tell me that the author of Amelia’s letters was actually Amelia herself?”
“Yes, sir. Only this time, she wasn’t trying to win you over; instead, she was looking for closure. After she learned the truth, she decided to take matters into her own hands and bring you back home to Mistletoe Falls.”
“So what happened to her body?”
“We cremated it.”
“Cremated it? What good does that do us? If we can’t find Amelia’s remains, how can we prove it wasn’t some sort of hoax?”
“Now I understand your concern,” said the sheriff. “But let me assure you that her ashes are already scattered across the hills of Mistletoe Falls. She will never be forgotten.”
Ben held Maryanne’s hand tightly. He felt as though he was being led through a maze, unable to get off course even when he tried. It was almost like the book was taking control of him, making sure he accomplished its goal of reuniting him with his wife.
“There’s something else,” the sheriff added. “A reporter from Chicago contacted our office earlier today. Apparently, someone in the city has written a book using your name, so we need to keep an eye on you.”
“Someone wrote a book about my life?”
“It’s true. And it seems the woman is writing another book now. A fictional account of how you fell in love with a beautiful widow named Maryanne Freeman.”
***
Back at their hotel room, they sat on the bed talking until late into the night. Neither spoke much about Amelia’s murder or the strange events surrounding it. Instead, they talked about family and friends, and of their future together.
When they finally drifted off to sleep, Maryanne dreamed of Amelia standing by a stream, dressed in white. The moonlight glowed down on her pale skin, and her long blonde hair streamed behind her like a waterfall.
“Amelia!” called Maryanne.
Her voice echoed throughout the valley, bouncing between the trees, then fading away into nothingness.
Maryanne opened her eyes. Her heart raced, and she realized that she still wore the pearl necklace Amelia left for her before going to New Orleans. With trembling fingers, Maryanne reached under the pillow and took up the box containing the letter. Then she remembered the note Amelia had written on the outside of the envelope.
My darling, please accept these pearls as my wedding gift. They’re yours forever—just as you are mine. May all your days be filled with joy and happiness. Forever yours… Amelia
Maryanne slipped off the bed and walked toward the window, then threw open the curtains and looked out at the darkening sky.
Then she saw it: a bright light shining down from above. The light grew larger and brighter until Maryanne could no longer look away from the sight. As the brightness grew, Maryanne recognized the shape of a ship coming straight at her, sailing right toward the house.
Maryanne gasped. It couldn’t be. Could it?
With her heart pounding in her ears, Maryanne stepped onto the balcony. She watched the lights grow bigger, until suddenly she heard a familiar cry, calling her name.
Maryanne turned to see the lighthouse flashing red. Was there a chance it really was Amelia coming back for her? Or perhaps she’d been mistaken and Amelia had come back to haunt her.
As the ship passed overhead, Maryanne stared intently at the figurehead, hoping against hope to recognize the face. But it was too far away, and the light dazzled her eyes. Still, Maryanne knew who she must have seen. Amelia.
And just like that, Maryanne woke up. She sat up quickly, but Maryanne’s head swam dizzily, causing her to fall back to the bed.
“What’s wrong, dear?” Maryanne heard a male voice say. “Are you all right?”
Maryanne looked around and found Ben sitting next to her. She smiled weakly.
“I’m fine,” she told him. “Just a little tired.”
He touched her cheek tenderly, then helped her sit upright. When he leaned forward to kiss her forehead, Maryanne pulled away.
“No,” she said quietly. “Let’s not go that far yet. We don’t know if this is real.”
“If it isn’t, why did you wake me up?”
“Because I wanted to make sure that the ship wasn’t coming after us.”
Ben stood and walked over to the door, leaving Maryanne alone on the bed. After several minutes, Maryanne heard the sound of running footsteps approaching the door.
“Is everything okay?” asked Ben.
Maryanne nodded. “Yes,” she replied. “Come here, honey.”
Ben bent down and kissed her on the lips. “I thought you were asleep.”
She smiled. “You should probably get back to the others,” she whispered.
“Oh, yes. Of course.”
They embraced one last time, then Ben left the room.
Maryanne lay back on the bed and closed her eyes, thinking about what happened during her dream. Had Amelia returned from beyond the grave? Was it possible that her mother was actually watching over them, making sure they never parted again?
In some ways, it seemed like it. That was how Maryanne felt about Amelia. Always present, always protecting, always caring.
Maryanne sighed deeply, then rolled over on her side. The soft sheets tickled her nose. For a moment, she wished she could stay awake forever, holding Amelia’s hand, sharing a quiet moment with her beloved mother.
But then Maryanne remembered Amelia’s words from the letter: Forever yours…
The words haunted Maryanne. Just as the letter haunted her, so did the promise she made to Amelia. Never let go, Maryanne promised her. No matter how hard things became, no matter what obstacles they faced.
That was why Maryanne chose to write books instead of following in Amelia’s footsteps. Why Maryanne chose to help people instead of becoming a doctor or an attorney.
Why Maryanne would never give up, no matter what life threw her way.
The End