How They Emailed
Stirring the sugar in her coffee on a rainy afternoon, Anna let out a long sigh of relief as she cracked her neck. It was her first day off in nine days; she exhausted beyond belief after picking up extra shifts to cover some nurses who had come down with the flu. She had returned in the early morning hours, just before dawn, and caught up on some much needed rest. But dreams roused her from the restless slumber and it hadn’t been long before she found herself stumbling into the kitchen for a dose of caffeine. She peered outside to watch the rain pour down and held onto her mug as she took a cautious sip, a content smile tilting her lips at the comforting pitter patter sound.
Without any warning, her mind went to him.
Anna found herself doing this on and off when she was home and sometimes when it was quiet at the hospital, unable to control it. It had been eleven days since the event and she had yet to hear from Harry. She almost felt foolish, having believed he would contact her. She had thought he felt the same connection as she had, even going as far as saying she was confident there would be some type of contact from him.
Anna tried to shrug it off, because although she was disappointed, relief seemed to still wash over her. He was a soldier. A risk she wasn’t sure her heart was willing to take.
Shaking away unnecessary thoughts, she blew out a dramatic breath and made her way into the living room, turning her attention to the laptop that rested on the coffee table. The Skype program instantly came to life after she woke the sleeping machine up, and she smiled brightly when her oldest brother’s husband and one of her dear friends appeared on the screen.
“Helloooo, my darling.” Gabriel grinned, causing her to snort in reply. He never failed to greet her with his posh – and very fake – British accent.
Anna set her mug down and pulled her curls back into a messy ponytail. “Hi! Are you ever going to give that up? You realize I’ve been here for years now.”
He dismissed her, gaping at her instead. “What in the bloody hell are you wearing?!” Anna glanced down at herself and snickered. Wearing black boy shorts and an oversized sweater was her normal attire while relaxing at home, Gabe knew this, but it never ceased his brotherly teasing.
“Shut up, fashionista. It’s been a long couple of weeks,” Anna pouted. Wiggling her toes inside her long knitted socks, a smile curved the roundness of her cheeks. Her crazy nana had given them to her last Christmas, wrapping them up with a ten dollar bill she had to convert to euros, and Anna recalled the note that had been pinned to keep them together.
Stockings to keep your big feet warm and money to keep your kitchen stocked with spices. Buon Natale. All my love, Nana
“Everything okay, love?”
Anna was pulled back from the memory by the concerned lines adorning Gabriel’s forehead. She was amazed at how quickly he transitioned from mocking her choice of wear to being worried of her well being –albeit it was something she had grown accustomed to, being the only girl in her family resulting in everyone treating her as if she were fragile, she hated it.
“I’m fine; don’t worry about me. I mean it.” She rolled her eyes when his frown never faltered, even with her reassurance. “Aren’t you going to ask me about the gala? I bet you’re dying to hear-”
Gabe’s face lit up like a Christmas. “The gala! Oh, please, please, please tell me there were two goddesses wearing the same dress.”
Anna giggled. “Not just two… but three.”
“No shit! Let’s play who wore it best! We haven’t in ages.”
After they gossiped about the fashion and the great cause that were dear to their hearts, the pair shifted the topic to what was happening in Gabe’s life back in New York City. He talked animatedly about his newly opened restaurant that had raging reviews in the NY most prestige’s magazines. “Carrick Marshall said my Filet Mignon was superb! Do you know how hard it is to please that snooty bastard?”
They giggled together, swapped corny jokes at the expense of her brothers when she asked how they were doing, and for the next half hour, Anna felt she was back home with them again.
It was no secret that she missed them immensely. She hadn’t spoken to them in almost a month now, and after their Skype session ended, Anna felt the pang of guilt in her chest grow with intensity.
The Caros were a loony, over the top bunch – full of annoying habits that never died with age. But that’s what made them her family. She missed the way her brother Danny would call her his honeybee; the way her brother Luke and his wife Kathie would bicker as if she wasn’t there. She missed teasing Finn, the middle child out of the five of them, whenever one of his many lady ‘friends’ would answer her call angrily before she could explain she was just his sister. (Okay, so maybe there was more than one incident where she let them to believe she wasn’t his sister to bust his chops for being such a manwhore.)
Pulling the top of her computer down, Anna’s lips turned down to a frown. There was that feeling again, swirling around her belly, tears formulating in her eyes.
Homesickness.
Doing the only thing she knew to do in an attempt to distract herself from falling back into the deep hole, Anna picked up her guitar that was casually thrown at the end of the couch and strummed a few notes. While taking the time to tune the instrument, her thoughts ran wild and her throat threatened to close up.
She couldn’t decide which one of her parents she missed the most.
There was her sweet mama who she was convinced was a saint. Lucille had dedicated her whole adult life to being a military wife and a loving mother, a hero in the eyes of all of her children who adored her; she had been a chef, a maid, a taxi driver for the five of them for years. And with the amount of times they moved, sometimes several times a year, the short and lively woman was determined to build each new house and each new surroundings as their home.
Then there was her courageous daddy. Nobody loved her like her daddy did. He was her king, her hero, and the only man she trusted with her heart – a true definition of a daddy’s girl. Being a marine since he was eighteen years of age, Marco was as strict as one could imagine, but he had been been the only one that never pushed her in any direction. He believed in her, had undying faith in her, and was the single person she had turned to the day of her brother’s funeral.
After the melancholy song drifted to an end, Anna sighed deeply, choking back the sadness. Her glossy eyes shifted around the cozy living area, trying to find another distraction – anything that would keep her afloat. Books were tossed carelessly at the far end corner of the room where the TV was situated. She looked over to a side table and cringed at the sight of all the DVD box sets of series Kathie had shipped over. Deciding that was the best way to go about the rest of the day, she got up from her wallowing state and ventured to the kitchenette to work on the popcorn.
——–
Well into that evening, when Anna was engrossed in the middle of the first season of New Girl, the unexpected happened.
The familiar sound of a new message from her email program echoed through the laptop speakers, startling her out of the trance she found herself in whenever she was deep into a series. She had forgotten to lower the volume and shut the machine down after talking to Gabriel, but even so, she wasn’t really expecting something to come through on her private account this late.
Her first thought was of Kathie, a stay-at-home mom who had a tendency of sending her the updated post on her parenting blog whilst mothering her niece and nephew. She especially contacted her if a few hours had gone by without a single comment from Anna.
Anna wondered how she could find the time to keep the blog alive and active between her obnoxious brother and the two monsters they had created wreaking havoc around the house.
At the first glance at the unfamiliar email address, she didn’t think much of it. Just when she was about to send the message to spam, something unknown told her to take another look. Immediately, her breathing accelerated in pattern and her stomach flipflopped.
“Oh my god, it’s him. It’s him.”
Frantically, she clicked to open the message, desperation and nervousness sparking out of the finger that kept tapping obsessively on the pad. She let out an inhuman growl from behind her lips when pop up after pop up appeared on the screen – none of them his message.
“Comeon, you son of a..”
Her heart stopped first, then the air rushed out of her lungs; there, right in front of her eyes, was an image of a peach colored rose bouquet, resting in a glass vase.
Anna’s mouth dropped open in shock. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her.
From: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
To: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
Annalisa,
Thank you for your involvement with the gala the other night. All of the attendees raved about the well coordinated event. Your support is tremendously appreciated.
My favorite part? The surprise musical guest. You have a very beautiful voice.
These reminded me of you. 🙂
Harry
Oh, he knew what he was doing. Her panties were most definitely gone – never to return again. She fought the strong desire to respond with goodbye panties or please take me now, and settled for something a little less mortifying.
From: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
To: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
Prince Charming,
Thank you for the beautiful flowers. I bet they smell lovely… Do you reckon they are bathed with soap?
I apologize for the constant interruption the other night. Regardless, I had a great time. And thank you for the sweet words. 🙂
Anna
Anna chewed on her bottom lip and counted the minutes it took for his reply to come through, growing impatient once again until the ding echoed from the speakers.
From: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
To: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
Peaches,
Paul seems to have impeccable timing, the twat. I’ll be sure to thank him for that next time.
RE: the flowers. If they do, I bet they don’t smell half as lovely as you. I would have sent them to your flat but I don’t know where that is… and I didn’t want you to think I was some creeper asking Paul for your address.
I enjoyed our brief time together and I would really like to talk to you again…if that’s alright with you, of course.
Prince Charming (Ha!)
Anna giggled as she pounded the keys with her quick response. She didn’t care how eager she looked, desperate even; he had that effect on her.
From: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
To: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
PC (now Prince Creeper),
Because sending a photo of flowers to my email address that I do not recall handing to you doesn’t make you a creeper?
Peaches (Seriously, no.)
From: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
To: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
Peaches (Seriously, yes)
Was that too weird? I scared ya off already, didn’t I? I’ll try to tone down the stalker. Promise.
PC (I’m not picky, I’ll take either one)
God, what was he doing to her? The fluttering in her stomach became stronger with every message, as did her self-assurance. Where did this new confidence come from? She had never been able to talk to a guy so easily before – definitely not one as handsome and important as him.
From: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
To: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
Prince Not-so-Charming,
Peaches? Really?! You’re already so annoying.
All joking aside, thank you for the flowers. They really are beautiful and they will brighten my place right up. Serious question: do they require any special care?
Anna.
From: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
To: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
Water.
Prince Always-Charming
Moments later, across town from her, Harry barked out a laugh when her cheeky reply found its way in his inbox. It consisted of a single picture. A cup of water.
——
The following day, Anna and Harry exchanged emails back and forth, Harry in his office working through a stack of papers that required his attention, and Anna getting to her neglected chores around the apartment. Their friendship had formed overnight, both falling into easy conversation over the computer. They had learned about each other, discussing how unlike their upbringing had been.
After Harry had made a brief mention of a late 80’s rock band, the question of the basics rose up, such as her age.
From: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
To: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
Irrelevant.
From: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
To: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
It is when you call me old!! Spill, Miss Caro.
From: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
To: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
GRRRRRRR!! 16th September 1984
Harry choked on his sip of Coke.
From: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
To: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
Look who’s talking, granny. I’m exactly one day older than you. How bizzare.
Is it ok to say I’m completely stunned by your accurate positioning of the date?
Anna snorted, jutting her chin out while retorting that he was still older and explaining that she may be from America, but she had lived in the UK long enough to know how anal the Brits got about their formats.
From: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
To: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
Ha ha ha ha (please take note of the sarcasm behind that)
From: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
To: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
🙂
By the end of the day, Harry had learned a great deal of information about the woman in the red dress to know he would not be able to let her slip away. She was quick to reply, normally causing a red flag to go up for him, but with her he couldn’t stop tapping his pen against the unread forms that lay before him, anxious to see what else would come out of her mouth – or fingertips?
Damn, did she make him laugh – a simple act that he felt like he hadn’t done much of lately, the type that made tears roll down his cheeks, anyway.
From: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
To: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
Orlando, Florida holds a special place in my heart.
From: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
To: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
When you wish upon a staaar…makes no difference who you aaaare….
From: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
To: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT.
I should probably admit that I haven’t been to the States all that much… not like a military rat as yourself. So tell me, favorite city? Greatest SECOND place on Earth? Cities you’d never go to again? Top ten recommended foods, music, communities?
From: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
To: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
Are you sure you’re ready for this?
From: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
To: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
……….yes?……..
From: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
To: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
Okaaaay….give me 10 min
Puzzled, Harry waited…and waited…and waited… Thirteen minutes ticked by by the time his inbox notified him of a new message. It was well worth the wait.
He doubled clicked on the attachment after his eyes scanned her typed apologies for the delay. As soon as the PowerPoint presentation took over the full screen, he threw his upper body back and nearly fell out of his chair as he erupted into hysterics.
This woman was something else.
———
The next morning, Harry woke up to the soft morning glow filtering through the windows of his bedroom. His first thought was to check the laptop that rested beside him on the bed. After leaving his office, the two had continued conversing through emails when he got home. He had eaten a late dinner, then slipped under the cool sheets of his bed, all the while keeping a deep conversation about anything and everything with the most fascinating woman to waltz into his life.
Shortly before passing out from exhaustion, they had bid each other a good night, promises to stay in contact not needed to be said aloud.
Harry stretched as the machine powered on, yawning loudly. When he opened up the email program, he hadn’t expected to see Anna had already beaten him to a good morning message that he had intended to send first.
He couldn’t help but to allow the grin spread wide on his face.
From: Annalisa.Caro@gmail.com
To: britarmyhw@yahoo.com
Good morning, Captain Wales
I hope you slept well. I write to inform you the flowers are on day 3 and happen to still look as gorgeous as ever. It seems the water you recommended so wisely is working. Who knew you were such a genius?
Have a great day 🙂
Anna
That was the best start to his day – hands down.
Wild Winter's Day 