Sherry read the short letter over for the third time. Who was this guy she kept asking herself trying to think of anyone she might know or had come into contact with that could be the writer of the note she had been reading.
This was the fourth short letter she had received in the mail in the past two weeks. Had the first one been written differently than it was she might have contacted the police when she got the second one. The first note was in the form of a introduction and explanation as to why he was writing to her and why he chose to remain anonymous. There was nothing threatening in the note nor anything in it that caused her to worry that he might be some kind of nut case or stalker.
At first she thought it was some sick joke someone at work was playing on her. She knew what they thought of her at work and that had been her first reaction to who might be writing the notes she was getting.
Last year she had overheard two other female coworkers in the ladies bathroom at work. She had been in the last stall and just getting ready to reach for the stall lock to leave when she heard her name mentioned. There was a big shop New Year's party and everyone had been invited. They were saying that they hoped she didn't come as she would just put a damper on the party being the only one there without a date.
The small shop where Sherry worked only had 60 employees but all were married or in relationships, everyone except Sherry. She hadn't planned on going for just that reason but it still hurt to hear two of her coworkers talking about her that way.
She got her mind back on the letter she was holding in her hand. She still felt that it was some sick joke someone was pulling on her at work. Probably hoping she would call the cops and make a fool of herself is what she had been thinking since she had received the second one.
Now here she was with number four in her hand and beginning to think that maybe, just maybe it was not from someone at work after all. This letter went into more detail then any of the previous three had. She went into her living room and sat down on the end of her couch and began to read the letter over again.
He was telling her that he enjoyed music, mostly blues, rock, and some new country. He detested rap and hip hop music and days when he loved to listen to oldies when driving down the highway in the summer with the top down. He told her that he was between 45 and 55 but wouldn't describe himself more as she might figure out who he was and he was not ready for that yet. He explained he was still very shy as to introducing himself to her.
The letter went on to tell her his likes in movies, books, food and he professed to be a notch below what he considered a gourmet chef to be. He then went on to tell her that he had been divorced for six years and just getting the courage up to think of finding someone to bring into his life again.
He said the failure of his marriage was partially his fault. He said he spent to much time working and not enough with his family. In the end his wife had finally admitted she had been having an affair for two years and wanted a divorce to marry the other man. He had been deeply hurt when she told him and in a state of shock for a week before he could finally think rationally about the end of his marriage.
He went on to explain in the letter that had he really paid attention to his marriage he would have realized his wife was having an affair. Sherry read the next paragraph over twice and could almost feel the truth in what he was saying.
"Had I paid more attention to my wife and marriage I would have known she was no longer in love with me. All the signs were there, I just refused to see them or had blocked them out. Our sex life had been great up until a couple years prior. I made love to my wife everyday and looked forward to having her in my arms at night after a long day at work. It was gradual in the way she spurned my advances at night. Headaches, to tired, have to get up early etc."
Sherry felt that the writer really didn't have a clue then, according to his note. Then again this could all be false, or his way of trying to play on her feelings. She tucked the note into the drawer of the end table with the other three and tried to put it out of her mind for the rest of the evening.
Two days later she received another letter, this one longer than the last. She purposely waited until after she had eaten her dinner that evening before sitting down to read it.
"I've thought about you a lot these last two days. You invade my dreams at night and most of my thoughts during the day now. I so very much want to talk to you in some way and I've come up with a way to do so. I've rented a post office box that you can write to me at Sherry. I want so much to know what your thinking and yet I'm afraid that you will tell me to get lost and stop bothering you."
What could be the harm in writing him back she was thinking as she read his letter. Maybe she would be able to figure out who he was if she asked the right questions. She had found that she was paying more attention to any male she came into contact with outside of work, trying to see if he might be the one who was writing to her.
She had been jotting down names of all the men she came into contact with in the last week. There was Mr. Jennings, the postman, but she had a feeling it wasn't him when she first wrote his name on her list. Then there was the nice man down at the drug store who always said hi to her when she came in to buy her toiletries. What about the guy at the pet store where she bought her dog food for her spoiled black lab? She secretly hoped it wasn't him because he just had no personality at all.
Maybe it was the guy she always saw at the little restaurant where she ate three or four times a week when she didn't feel like cooking? He was between the age of 45 and 55 it could be him. It could be the guy three houses down, who she sometimes passed when she was out walking Boomer, he would know where she lived and that she was single.
That was another question that puzzled her, how did the guy get her address? It had to be someone that knew where she lived and that made her list shrink considerably when she thought about it.
Sherry went to her bedroom and slipped her long T-shirt on that she sometimes slept in and got out her stationary. She penned a short note to the author of the letters. In it she asked him how he came to know where she lived? Why was he so afraid to talk to her face to face? Then she asked him point blankly if this was a game put on by someone at work? If it was then she was going to file charges with the police department for harassment if she found out it was. She figured if she threatened police involvement and it was a joke it would make the sender stop writing.
