We were constant sidekicks, LJ and I. Single parents of young sons that were near in age, we had been raised with similar values and those two facts gave us much in common. At the time, we lived about a mile apart, driveway to driveway, in a rural area. Our sons went to the local tiny-town school, so we participated in many of the same activities. Life was slow as was the drawl and cadence of speech. People were kind and trustworthy, deep country in the best sort of way. Jim ran the corner store/gas station. Betty ran the bait and tackle store down the road, and was the expert on the hot bait-of-the-week. Jack was a welder and was an expert at iron rail fences. The mailman was notably kind and friendly, as regular on his route as the school bus. I knew him and his sweet wife from my couple’s bowling league. They were just about the nicest people anyone could meet. That was back in the day when people felt comfortable leaving money for stamps and other items for the postman in their mailboxes.
LJ had been in a long and cumbersome break-up with her ex-husband, Billy. The mental separation and interaction took much longer than the actual divorce. They were both having “letting go” issues for their own personal and opposite reasons. As a result, havoc ensued, and I had developed a strong dislike for this guy. He is the type that admits to no wrong. My opinion of him took on a whole new brand after he left their son waiting and watching out the window for his expected arrival on Christmas Eve…. Frankly, I had always envisioned taking him down with a nice right hook.
LJ and her son had moved houses a couple of times, albeit within a few miles of each other, hoping Billy would lose track of her physical location and she wouldn’t feel stalked. There was nothing intimidating about him or his demeanor. In fact, he was more like an annoying child who knew no boundaries. After an acquaintance inquired about a greeting card she had sent a week earlier, LJ realized Billy was pilfering through her mail and taking anything personal. What irritated her as much as anything was the idea that he thought his actions were going undetected, so she devised a “catch the rat” plan. Continue reading “Dear Billy,”
