Sentimental Maiden

She still couldn't shake the previous night's dream. Fear gripped her. She was startled by a loud sound. Someone was knocking at the door. She jumped up, her heart racing, and clutched the knob. She peeked through the peephole. It was a courier, in his neatly pressed brown uniform, staring blankly down the dimly lit hall. Strange, she thought. She had not been expecting a letter.

She turned the knob and slowly opened the door.

"Special Delivery, Ma'am," spoke the courier, his rehearsed greeting revealing a deep kindness that momentarily pulled her out of her stupor.

"Thank you," she replied, hurriedly scratching her name on the notepad and reaching for the letter.

As the courier walked away, she noticed how sweet he smelled, like the Old Spice her daddy used to wear when he went to church.

Falling back into her semi-trance, she closed the door, and ripped the letter open, pushing her thumb into the envelope and tearing the flap haphazardly.

"Unbelievable," she thought. "This letter is from Aunt Louise in Baltimore." She wasn't a blood relative, and Mary hadn't heard from her since her uncle died three years ago. This was not a good sign. Aunt Louise was a little strange. She dyed her hair with real 'organic' henna, and always wore neatly pressed blue gingham blouses.

"That dream," Mary thought. "Why am I still frightened? Was it a sign?"

"'Greetings', blah, blah," she skimmed as she read. "Here it is: 'A new discovery,' blah, blah."

"Uncle Morris loved you dearly." A tear fell from Mary's eye.

"'And left a sealed envelope I recently found in the safe, shoved back in the far right corner, just under,' blah, blah....with Mary's name on it....'hadn't noticed it before.....and smelled just like his aftershave, you know the .....Don't know what's in it. You know how he loved secrets'...blah, blah..."

Mary looked inside the envelope. It contained a tiny packet with her name scribbled in cursive, messy like Uncle Morris used to write.

She carefully opened it. It contained a key labeled "Scott Valley Savings and Loan" and the number 444.

That was her favorite number. Hmmm...

She looked into the packet again. A tiny perfectly square piece of onion skin paper read, in carefully written block letters, "For Mary when I die. She knows what it is. Her sky and my sun."

Then Mary remembered. Tears overwhelmed her and poured uncontrollably from her face--that beautiful sapphire tie pin surrounded in fourteen karat filigree. He remembered. It was hers. She was loved. She hugged the letter. She hugged the key. She hugged the note. She even decided to love Aunt Louise, though still unsure of that unusual female.

She dressed quietly, washed her face, and slipped the letter and key into her purse. Driving to the bank was filled with nostalgia and grace, soft memory and gentle kisses on a little girl's forehead.

She pulled into the bank parking lot, and embarked on a new journey of reverie and wonder....