The Letter

"You're telling me that you didn't write this?"

Eric was beginning to grow agitated at the accusations from his co-worker Melissa and close friend. "No! I don't even know what you're talking about!"

Melissa held, in her hand, a hand-written letter anonymously left in her intern's in-box. The letter was very intimate, and expressed feelings for her that she had longed to experience since her last break up several years before. She had loved and adored Eric since they met as freshmen in college, because he was one of the few straight men who respected Melissa's sexuality for what it is, and didn't view her as a potential conquest. They remained friends through law school, and eventually ended up working at the same firm together.

"Eric, please quit screwing around. This isn't funny to me, and you of all people should understand why."

Eric bolted from his seat, adamant to prove his innocence, "Melissa, I didn't write the damn letter. If I did, I would tell you, but I didn't. I didn't, and I wouldn't. You're right – I do know what you've been through in the past, and I wouldn't use that to my advantage. Not now, not ever, and I also really don't appreciate being accused of this, either."

"Fine," Melissa barked, spinning and turning back to her office, unconvinced. Her summer intern, Tracey, had witnessed the heated exchange from just outside of Melissa's office, down the hall from Eric's. Melissa stormed into her office, not making eye contact with Tracey. Tracey waited a few minutes, then quietly crept into her office.

"Are you OK?"

"No." Melissa paused for a moment, not making eye contact. "Yes. I will be."

"Can I get you anything? Coffee?"

Melissa spun in her chair to look at Tracey, flipping her shoulder length blonde hair out of her face. "Black."

Tracey left to get her boss some coffee, while Melissa re-read the letter. The manner in which it was written was so heartfelt, so full of emotion, she couldn't help but to be moved by it. Whoever had written it seemed to know her well, as well as the things she'd been through the last several years. She mulled over the multiple pages of the letter, absorbing the words again. As she reached the bottom of the second page, Tracey returned with her coffee, setting it on her desk.

"Anything else?"

"No, thank you. Will you shut my door for me?" Melissa spun her chair back around, and refocused on the letter.

Tracey turned and walked from Melissa's office, closing the door behind her. Tracey returned to her desk, continuing to clean up her workspace. It was her last day, and she was returning to college the following week. She took an office job to earn money, and to gain experience over the summer, and felt fortunate to be able to work for Melissa. She found her to be a good mentor, even though Melissa often seemed cold and distant from her.

The afternoon passed by, and as most people were leaving the office for the weekend, Eric approached Tracey's desk. Tracey's long, black hair was pulled back behind her head as she cleaned out her desk for the final time.

"Today's your last day, huh?"

"Yeah. I'm going to miss it here."

"We'll miss you, too. Tracey, you really did a great job this summer. I don't know how much you heard that, but as far as I'm concerned, it wasn't enough."

Tracey smiled at Eric. "Thank you. That's nice to know. Really."

"If you ask me, you'll have a job here next summer if you want it, and even when you graduate in a few years. We'd love to have you as part of our team."

"I just hope Melissa feels the same way."

"I know she does." Eric paused. "How's she doing?"

"I haven't seen her since early this afternoon, right after you guys..." Tracey's voice trailed off.

"Right. I wanted to speak to her before I left for the weekend."

"Eric...I feel awkward even asking this, because I don't know you that well, but did you write the letter?"

Eric's response was instantaneous, and also convincing. "NO! I didn't even know what she was talking about when she first came to me. Whatever it was must have hit close to the bone, though, because she was pretty upset about the whole thing."

"Do you think it hurt her?"

"I wouldn't say that. I'd say that some of her wounds haven't quite healed yet." Eric paused, looked around, and lowered his voice. "Maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but I will anyway. A few years ago, Melissa was dating a woman named Lisa. Nice girl, attractive. They had great chemistry. Lisa took care of Melissa when she had her surgery. She was fantastic. They'd dated for a while, then Lisa suddenly dumped her; totally out of the blue. It crushed Melissa. No one saw it coming, especially Mel. She was devastated. Lisa quickly wound up with someone else, and Mel is still seeking closure from that relationship. She tells me a lot, but there are things that I think she holds back. Maybe she thinks I'll judge her. She's wrong."

"Wow," Tracey began, looking away. "I didn't know all of that."

"Yeah. Keep that under your hat, though. I don't know how much Mel would want you to know about."

"I swear. Not a word."

"OK," Eric said with a deep breath. "Here goes nothing." He turned, and began walking toward Melissa's office. He stopped at the door, leaned in to listen inside, and heard nothing. He looked back at Tracey, who was watching him, and turned back to knock on the door.

No answer.

He knocked again, slowly opening the door in front of him. Melissa sat staring out of her office window, heels off, music quietly playing from a radio. She held the letter in her hand as she gazed outside. She saw Eric's reflection in the window.

"What do you want?" Her voice was emotionless, and it was clear that she'd been crying.

"I wanted to see how you were doing."

"Much better before this," she replied, holding the letter up in the air. Her stare never left the window.

"Mel, will you tell me what the letter says?"

"You wrote it, Eric. You tell me."

"Don't start..."

Melissa replied sternly, "Start what?

Nobody

knows all the details of my life that are in this letter, except you. How many nights did you and I stay here talking about Lisa? How many nights did we stay here talking about lots of things? I never expected you to..." Melissa stopped herself, because she couldn't bring herself to complete the sentence.

"To what?"

"To fall..." Melissa sighed. "To fall in love with me."

"WHOA! Hold on. Melissa, I am crazy about you, and I would do anything for you. But I am NOT in love with you, and I did NOT write that letter."

"Get out."

Eric couldn't believe what was happening. "What?"

"Eric, just please leave. I don't need this. I didn't need this from, of all people, you. I thought we were OK, but this...I don't need it."

Angry, Eric turned and started out. He stopped as he was headed out, and turned back to face Melissa, who still had not made eye contact with him. "Melissa, I didn't write that letter. You need to believe that. You also need to believe that you can love, and can be loved. Lisa wasn't the end of the world. "

Melissa had heard enough. "Oh, God, won't you PLEASE LEAVE!?!" She was on the verge of more tears.

Eric stormed out of the office, looking at Tracey as he began to head for the elevator. "Stay in touch, OK? Good luck in school, and good luck with..." He began jerking his thumb toward Melissa's office, intentionally omitting Melissa's name.

Tracey watched in silence as he stormed out, offering a hand wave that he never saw. Eric stomped to the elevator, enraged of the lack of faith from his friend, followed by her continued disbelief of him. He was angry that they'd earned each other's trust over the years of knowing each other, and of her waiving of that trust now. The elevator arrived, and Eric boarded it, pressing the button for the lobby.

Tracey slowly made her way to Melissa's office door, still agape from Eric's exit. Melissa began to tear up again, watching dark clouds roll in from the west side of town.

"Looks like rain," she said. Tracey didn't feel as if the words were necessarily intended for her, but for anyone within earshot.

"Yeah."

Tracey looked at Melissa for a moment, unsure of what to say. Many things came to her head, but she cowered from all of them.

Finally, after what had been a seemingly endless length of time, Melissa turned away from the window, and made eye contact with Tracey.

"Are you ready to go back to school?"

"Yes and no. I miss my friends there, but I'll miss working for you."

Melissa smiled for the first time in hours, albeit faintly. "I'll miss you, too. You're really a cut above. Not just as an intern, but in every other way, too."

Tracey smiled. "Thank you. You don't know how much I wanted to hear that."

"I'm sorry you had to see all of that between Eric and me today. I know you've been here enough late nights to know that it's not always like that. In fact...we never fight. We fought once before in college and it was over something petty - so petty, in fact, that I don't even remember what it was now. "

"Melissa, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Tracey collected herself, and asked. "Do you really think that Eric wrote the letter?"

Melissa looked down at the letter, still in her hand. "I don't know who else would have. There's a lot in here that only he would know. It's a beautiful letter, though. Whoever wrote it...well...they know how to get someone. They got me." She swallowed hard as she finished her comment.

"Listen, Tracey, if you ever need anything, you call me, you understand? If you ever want to come by to say hello, here or at home, do it. You remember where I live, right? From the 4th of July party?"

"I do. Thank you, Melissa. It means so much to me."

Tracey wanted to say something else, but was unsure of what to say. Melissa was such a strong personality, and their fifteen-year age difference always put Tracey off, somewhat. Melissa sensed Tracey's uneasiness, and as she had always attempted to do in similar situations, tried to take control of the situation.

"Come on. I'll walk to the parking garage with you. Let's go before the rain starts."

Melissa gathered her purse, and coffee mug. She straightened out her Prada business suit, and wiped her face. Looking outside, she wished she'd had an umbrella, as well. Tracey picked up a box full of her things, and began walking out with Melissa. They took the elevator down, and walked out to the garage. They'd parked fairly close to one another that morning, and in walking, reached Tracey's car first. Tracey unlocked the car, and placed the box in the backseat.

"The weather's gonna get nasty, so I should let you go," Melissa said. "Come here."

Tracey moved in to hug Melissa goodbye. She began to fight back tears, as she was afraid that she might never see her mentor again. She desperately searched for the words to say, but nothing sounded right. Finally, she settled on three words.

"Don't forget me."

They were said quietly, and if Melissa hadn't been hugging her, they might have been inaudible. Melissa tightened her grip around Tracey. "I won't."

They ended their embrace as a thunderclap broke the awkward silence. "Bye, Melissa."

"I hope to see you again soon, Tracey. Good luck, and take care."

Tracey got inside her car, and watched Melissa walk to hers. Melissa got in her car, started it, and backed out, never looking back at Tracey. She pulled away before Tracey had even backed out of her spot. Finally, Tracey pulled out, and left the garage.

The evening rain began to pound on the roof of Melissa's house. She'd made it home before the real downpour began, and after making dinner, she sat on her couch with a glass of wine, and began to re-read the letter for what seemed like the thousandth time. She slowly flipped through the multiple pages, re-absorbing the words that cut through her like a knife. The author spoke to her directly, talking of her beauty, her intelligence, her kindness, her gentle nature, and of a fierce love for her that was buried deeply inside, afraid of allowing it to surface because of the consequences. It spoke of Melissa's last relationship, and how abruptly and horribly it ended, and the devastation that Melissa carried with her even now, not allowing herself to move on from that part of her life. She read the letter an additional three times sitting on her couch after settling in, and finally she flung the letter in anger. The pages ripped through the air, scattering all about her living room. She watched the pages fall to the floor, listening to the echoes of the sound of the paper. She took a sip from her wine, staring at nothing in particular. She began to seethe, thinking of Eric. She'd known him for years, and he was her most trusted male friend. She had told him details of her life she'd never told any other man. Much of her trust came from the establishing of their ground rules that he would never become attracted to her. Now, she thought, all of that is gone. She had felt like she had lost the two people closest to her, Lisa and now Eric, within a span of a couple of years. She couldn't maintain a friendship with someone who was attracted to her. Her past simply wouldn't allow her to.

Melissa looked out her window as an earsplitting thunderclap struck outside the moment she lit the first of two scented candles. The downpour outside began to intensify as Melissa took another sip of her wine. At that moment, someone outside knocked on her door.

Who the hell is out in this kind of weather, Melissa thought to herself, as she stood up to answer. She arrived at the door, and peered through the peephole. She saw her surprise visitor standing outside, pulled her head back involuntarily, stood in shock for a moment, and then opened the door.

Outside drenched from the rain and holding a bouquet of roses was Tracey. She was trembling, and had clearly been crying.

"I wrote the letter," she said apprehensively.

Melissa stood in disbelief, staring at her now-former intern. Tracey was standing outside, visibly upset. and had just uttered four words that she didn't expect to hear from anyone other than Eric. She was still trying to process the words when she told Tracey, "Come in."

Tracey began sobbing as she entered Melissa's home. With only nervous crying, she offered the roses to Melissa. "What are these for?"

"Because I'm in love with you." Tracey's voice was very nasally, but her eyes best communicated her sincerity.

"Oh my God..." Melissa was unsure of what to say. She wasn't prepared for this tonight, and felt like the emotional roller coaster she'd been on today had just taken another sharp turn. "You're soaked. Do you want to change into something dry?"

Tracey nodded her head timidly. Melissa led her to her bedroom, and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt. "These should fit you OK. Change, then come back in the living room. Sounds like we need to talk."

Melissa returned to the kitchen to place the flowers in a vase of water. She then poured Tracey a glass of wine, and refreshed her own glass. She sighed deeply, unsure of how to deal with this new twist. She did find Tracey very attractive, many things concerned her, not the least of which was the age difference between them, and Melissa's own demons. The door to Melissa's bedroom opened, and Tracey emerged wearing a pink tee shirt, and gray sweatpants. Her long, wavy black hair was still very wet, and to be dressed so casually, looked quite alluring. Her nubile body filled out the borrowed clothes quite nicely. She had stopped crying, but was still clearly nervous.

"Want a towel for your hair?"

"Yes, please." Melissa led Tracey to her bathroom, while she admired her former boss. She pulled a fresh towel out from the closet, and handed it to Tracey. They made their way back into the living room, where their wineglasses waited for them. They each sat down on the couch, on either end, and picked up their glasses. They each took a sip, as Melissa waited for Tracey to begin.

"I hope you don't think I'm a stalker or something," Tracey said. "I needed to do this tonight, while I had the courage. Just like the letter today."

Melissa stared at her, unsure of what to say. "I guess I should tell you that the letter was beautifully written. You really moved me, although I'm curious to know how you knew so much detail about my past."

Tracey smiled. "All those late nights I worked, and was just outside of your office, when you and Eric were inside talking, sometimes laughing, and sometimes crying - I paid attention to you. Melissa...I'm fascinated by you. You're strong, you're smart, you're funny...you're beautiful. You also seem unafraid."

Melissa scoffed slightly at the final comment. "I don't know about that. I think I'm as big of a chicken as there is."

Tracey continued. "Being around you made me less afraid. While I was intimidated by your position in the office, at times, other times you were such a great role model to me. Times that I wanted to...you know...come out."

"I didn't even know you were a..."

Tracey cut her off. "Lesbian? To be honest, neither did I. I've been with men, but never enjoyed it the way I thought I should, or was supposed to. I had an experience two semesters ago with a girl I met at a party. We were both pretty drunk, but I remember loving it. I remember questioning myself, wondering if I liked it because I was so drunk, or if it was something more. That night, despite being inebriated, something inside me woke up. Something I never knew was there. It's undeniable. While I find some men attractive, by and large I find myself attracted to women. Beautiful women, smart women, funny women...women like you."

Melissa gazed at Tracey. "I don't know what to say."

"I'd really like it if you would say what you're thinking." There was a pause between them. "Please?"

Melissa sighed. "Tracey, I'd be lying if I said I didn't find you attractive, but I have to be honest – you don't want to get involved with me."

"Why? It's my age, right?"

"That's a part of it, but not that big of a part. It's a concern. I'm 35, and you're 20. There's a lot of difference in our lives. I'm settled into making my mark in the world, you're still chiseling out your spot. There are maturity issues. You should still be meeting people, having fun, being carefree. I've passed that stage of my life."

"You said that wasn't the biggest part."

Melissa looked away for a moment, and then began to speak. "I got hurt a few years ago, as you seem to know. It destroyed me, Tracey. A part of me died, when that happened - a part of me that will never live again. I don't know that I even want to love again. I'm only now getting to the point where I can even talk about Lisa without breaking down and crying."

Tracey took Melissa's hand. She loved the feel of her skin, and now that she had revealed her secret, she had an entirely new appreciation for her touch. She had hugged her hours earlier, and yet the feeling she felt now was multiplied by a thousand. Melissa couldn't deny to herself that she enjoyed the touch of another woman for the first time in quite a while, and there was an attraction she felt to Tracey. Her fear gripped her, however.

"I lost my heart then, Tracey. I can't lose it again."

Tracey inched closer to Melissa for the first time, their hands still locked. "Melissa, I can't promise you it would be a bed of roses. I can't even promise you it would be forever. What I can promise you," she said, moving her face slowly closer to Melissa's, their eyes interlocked, "is that you can trust me."

Trembling, Melissa's voice turned to a whisper. "I'm afraid."

Tracey shifted her voice to a whisper, as well. "Believe in me."

With that, Tracey moved to kiss Melissa's mouth. Her guard dropped, Melissa began to return her kiss, and clenching Tracey's hand tightly as Melissa's other hand began to caress Tracey's cheek. Their tongues probed each other's mouths as they began to drink in the scents and presence of one another. Melissa's breath accelerated as she began to feel things she hadn't felt for some time. She moved her hand to touch Tracey's stomach and side, as Tracey maneuvered herself to give Melissa all the access to her body that she wanted.