[Finding Emma 01.5] Dear Jack by Steena Holmes Page B

make anything special, just shepherd’s pie, but the man seemed starving. Like normal. So I sent him home with the leftovers. It’s the least I could do. But why is it I have a feeling I’ll be seeing more of him than normal?
     
    I love you Jack.
     
     

 
    Jack,
     
    There was a reason I never wanted to be a widow, a single parent, solely responsible for raising our daughter. I need you home and I need you home now.
    Notice I didn’t start this letter off with Dear ? Right now I have less than loving feelings towards you. Today was not a good day, Jack. Not a good day at all.
    It started with Mary waking up on the wrong side of the bed. Or maybe it started with me not having much sleep since all Mary could do was cry last night. Yes, cry. All. Night. Long. No, I’m not being overly dramatic, trust me on this. She hasn’t been feeling well, just a summer cold, but she’s only a little thing and she doesn’t handle being sick very well. Reminds me of someone else I know. Her whole body ached so I made a nice warm bath for her, but it didn’t seem to help much. I swear she’s going through a growth spurt at the same time, I had to rub her legs for hours just to help ease the aching. The warm compress I made only worked for so long. I even tried that trick of yours, placing a hot bowl of water beneath the bed, but it didn’t work. It only works when Daddy puts it there. Daddy has the magic touch. Daddy only knows how to make me feel better. I want my Daddy.
    Honestly, I love you Jack. I love Mary. But I’m not sure how much more of this I can take. You were the one to always comfort her when she was sick. You were the one she wanted, not me. Even now, when you’re not here, you’re the one she wants. Right now, she’s calling for you. It’s almost ten o’clock at night, she should be sound asleep but she fights it and is fighting me. I had to finally leave her side and come down here to make a cup of tea. Will she ever stop crying? I hope so. I can feel your displeasure with me. I know, I know…suck it up buttercup, right? Life isn’t always going the way we planned, but it’s how we handle it that matters. All right, Jack. I hear you. Maybe another warm bath will help her fall asleep…
     
    ~~~
     
    Mary is in bed now, fast asleep. Finally. The warm bath seemed to help. We also wrote you a little story. I’ll post it tomorrow in the mail for you. I’m sure you’d love to receive it. When I suggested to Mary that we write stories every week for you, she calmed down. Why didn’t I think of this earlier?
    This hasn’t been all that easy for me. I’m sorry if it seems like I’m just complaining. Well, I’m not really all that sorry, because I am complaining. But you’re the only one who will listen — you really don’t have a choice. Trying to be both mother and father, homemaker and provider — it’s all tiresome.
    I was so tired today that I burned the bread I made, dropped our last container of milk all over the kitchen floor and threatened Mary within an inch of her life if she didn’t stop crying.
    I’m not the best mother out there. I’ll be the first to admit that. But yelling at her while she’s not feeling well? I felt horrible. It reminded me of my own mother. How hard and unyielding she was. I’m turning into my mother and I hate it. Jack, I’m not as strong as you thought I was. I’m sorry.
    Mary is finally asleep. I cuddled with her and read her a story tonight. She’s wearing one of your shirts to bed, it seemed to help calm her down. She’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep.
    A cheque arrived today. Thank you for having a portion sent home. I hope you made arrangements to keep some with you. I know things aren’t a bed of roses there. The little bit you sent home is enough to help out. Please don’t worry about us, you know we are fine, especially compared to most people. I was able to sell another quilt, and I have orders for a few more. I heard today on