Dear Editor

Dear Editor


Emily Sharpe


Published by Blushing Books
An Imprint of
ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc.
A Virginia Corporation
977 Seminole Trail #233
Charlottesville, VA 22901
©2020
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The trademark Blushing Books is pending in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Emily Sharpe
Dear Editor
EBook ISBN: 978-1-64563-342-6
Print ISBN: 978-1-64563-355-6
Audio ISBN: 978-1-64563-356-3
v1
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.


Dedicated to my friends of the Use Your Words Writers' Group, at Inner Truth Project, in Port St. Lucie, Florida. Especially to the two Wendys, one of whom started it all, and the other, who kept it going.


Author’s Note
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental, but the author sincerely hopes that all of us find the kind of love and happiness that is possible. It's never too late!


Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Emily Sharpe
Blushing Books
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Chapter 1


Unsettled
Sitting on stools at the kitchen island, Carol Daniels poured a second glass of chardonnay for her daughter Jessica and then another for herself. As Jessica reached for hers and took a sip, Carol watched her. "Are you all right, honey?"
Jessica smiled. Her mother had an uncanny ability to read her. Maybe she should have gone straight home after work instead of stopping by her mom's place. She didn't want her mood to bring her mother down. In the year since her father had died, she had tried to at least touch base with her mother every day, even if it was just a quick text. She was there to comfort her, however, not the other way around. "I'm fine, Mom. New job, Eric…"
"To your dad," Carol held her glass up for a toast, "Gregory Edward Daniels; may he rest in peace." She took a sip. "And may you find true love and joy." Carol slid off the stool and stood.
Jessica frowned. "Eric and I are good, Mom. Mostly. I don't know why you don't like him. He's just a little…"
Jessica watched as Carol leaned against the kitchen counter and looked out the window. Her mom loved the changing colors this time of year. Soon October's vibrant leaves would fall, the snow would come and then spring again. What a glorious cycle. Her dad had loved the seasons as much as she did. A husband of forty years and a father had been taken too young, in the line of service. A hero, really.
Carol sighed and turned to her daughter. "I do like Eric. What's not to like? He's polite. He's easy on the eyes. He has a job. He's good at what he does. And after two years of me telling him to call me Carol, he still calls me Mrs. Daniels."
Jessica laughed. "He is a little on the formal side. Not quite Downton Abbey formal, but yes."
"Is he stiff in bed, too?" Carol threw back her head with her characteristic shriek of laughter. "That didn't come out right. I mean is he formal in bed?" Her eyes opened wide in mock apology. "Sorry! It's the wine talking. I just got a mental picture of him showing up at your bedside with a permission slip taped to his you-know-what. 'Eric may have sex today.'"
Jessica squirmed a bit inside despite the fact that she and Carol had always been able to talk frankly. She knew her parents had been disappointed the first time they had realized she was…active…but they had never said a disparaging word. They'd married so young. It was different now. Wasn't it? Jessica threw a napkin at her, but she was laughing as she did it. She loved to hear her mother laugh, especially these days. "Sorry is right! Eric is sweet. And yes, in bed, Mother." She only called her that when she was annoyed—or pretending to be. Carol always took the hint.
Carol set down her wine and then busied herself with something at the sink until Jessica was ready to continue the conversation. Every few seconds, though, she would chuckle again in spite of herself, and Jessica could imagine just what she was thinking. Stiff. Oh dear. It has been a while.
Jessica studied her mother, framed by the setting sun outside the window. Carol's chestnut hair now gleamed with strands of gray, but even from the back, she was attractive, curvy, womanly. Jessica ached for her loneliness. She left both stool and wine to lean her back against the kitchen counter beside her mother. "Eric said he'd go to Rita and Gary's Halloween party with me." Jessica chuckled. "Bit of a surprise, actually. He's not really the party type. I've had my costume for weeks, but all the store had left for him was Darth Vader or this slinky form-fitting superhero thing. I knew he'd never wear that."
"He'd look good in it; I'll give him that." Carol winked at her daughter.
"Mom!"
"What? Just because I'm a widow, I don't notice muscles anymore?" Carol shook her head. "Your dad died, honey. I didn't." She sighed. "Not all the way, anyway."
Jessica put her arms around her, and they stood together for a few moments, silent, remembering and aware of the hole in their hearts. When Jessica stepped back, she grabbed Carol's hands. "I know you miss him, Mom. But it has been a year. You're still—"
Carol stretched her head side to side, a familiar stress reducer Jessica had witnessed thousands of times during