Mysteries of the Heart

I shrugged my blue jacket on and turned the collar up against the cold. The jacket was old. It had frayed edges, and the zipper didn't always work, but it was the warmest one I owned. When I paired it with my fleece hoodie, I could pretend I couldn't feel the winter chill - almost.

The money in my apron pocket was heavy with coins and not enough bills. My boss, Eddy, kept tight control over our tips. He always took a percentage off the top for his share. It varied according to his mood, which was usually surly.

My favorite customer hadn't been in for several weeks. I was beginning to worry about him. Mr. Sterling was a very kind man who could have easily dined at the fanciest restaurants in town every night but chose to frequent our diner every so often. He insisted I call him Ian and always asked after my son and me. His very generous tips were several times the cost of his meals. They left me with enough extra cash after Eddy took his share that I could buy what Alex needed and sometimes a few things he didn't. Even if Mr. Sterling hadn't tipped at all, I would have liked him better than some of our customers who could be rude or, at the very least self-involved.

Ian was an enigma. Although he had been living in Bradford since before I was born, no one knew much about him. Ian had been an actor in his early days and started a local theater group. Outside of that, he kept to himself. Very few of the actors associated with him outside of the theater. No one knew if he had a spouse or children. It wasn't even certain where his fortune came from.

I grabbed the to-go container and headed out the back door, shivering as the frigid air hit my legs. It would be nice if Eddy allowed the waitresses to wear slacks. The diner had a fifties theme, and he expected us to dress appropriately. I was pretty sure Eddy paid us fifties equivalent wages. I needed to find a better job, but I had married right out of high school and never went to college. Bradford was a small town. There weren't a ton of jobs available outside of the newly built corporate headquarters for Pickering Industries. They had brought several employees with them from the nearby city of Ashton. I figured any positions they had open for a person without a college degree wouldn't pay much more than the diner, and the hours might be more difficult to manage.

I was lucky that Maggie, the retired woman who lived in the apartment next to mine, had volunteered to get Alex ready for school and drop him off. Having to be at work by six a.m. made it impossible to do it myself. Maggie would also pick him up if I had to work a double shift and watch him on his days off. The only payment she would take was a weekly supply of whatever I was baking.

I hadn't seen Daniel for a while. I hoped he had found somewhere warm to stay for the winter. The cold could be brutal for someone living on the streets. Maybe he had moved on again. He wasn't originally from Bradford. He told me he was a wanderer and was just passing through. Daniel said his time in the military caused PTSD that left him unable to hold down a job. It cost him the love of his life. So he traveled, never staying anywhere long. It was surprising he had remained in Bradford for the last several months. Daniel wasn't out there every day, but I always brought a hearty meal for him just in case. If nothing else, it would add to my dinner table.

That was another thing that reduced my tips. Eddy didn't allow free meals for his employees. He expected us to pay full price for anything we consumed. I generally only managed to wolf down a piece of toast on my way out the door in the morning and skipped lunch unless I had something from home I could bring. I saw no reason to give Eddy any more of my hard-earned money.

Once I met Daniel, that changed. As tight as my finances were, some people had even less. If I could help someone in need, I would. So I began to purchase meals on my way out of work.

Daniel had such kind eyes. They reminded me of someone, but I couldn't place my finger on who. I waited a few minutes to see if he would show up, then hurried to get to Alex’s school before dismissal.

I loved that Alex still liked to hold my hand even though he was eleven and would soon be taller than me. He told me about his day with great enthusiasm. I was happy Alex liked school so much. I wished he had friends to play with, but he had never been very social. It was a small school, and Alex was different. Some of the kids made fun of him, so he avoided them as much as possible. One of his teachers had suggested that he could be autistic. I could see her point but chose not to have him tested. Bradford didn't have any resources to help with the therapies he needed. Instead of dragging Alex to Ashton every week, I did what I could for him at home.

I smiled at Alex as he told me everything there was to know about George Washington. He looked so much like his father that it made my heart hurt. I still deeply missed Mateo. The deployments had been difficult enough. After Alex was born, at least, I wasn't alone. The day the Marines arrived at my door, bringing the news that Mateo had died, was the worst day of my life. Alex was only four. He didn't understand why I was sobbing inconsolably. He didn't understand why his daddy wasn't coming back. I could barely comprehend it myself.

A strange buzzing sound pulled me out of my melancholy thoughts. Alex stopped in his tracks and stared at the sky. I looked up to see several dark objects flying above us. My heart leaped into my throat as I wrapped my arms around Alex in a futile effort to protect him. Too many nights watching paranormal shows had me thinking we were under alien attack.

I laughed in relief when I realized they were drones. You might see one in Bradford now and then. It was weird to see so many at once. It was even stranger once I saw that every one of them was carrying a package. Maybe Pickering Industries was trying out a new delivery method.

“What are they doing, Mom?” Alex asked.

I hugged his shoulders and directed him to keep walking. “I don't know, honey, but I have laundry waiting for me, and you have homework to do.”

“What are we having for dinner?” he asked, eyeing the bag in my hand.

“Pot roast,” I said with a smile, knowing his lack of desire to eat more than a few select foods.

Alex side-eyed me. “But I don't like pot roast.”

“You might if you tried it,” I replied.

“No thanks. I’ll have grilled cheese,” he announced.

“Of course. I wouldn't expect anything else.” I said.

When we arrived at our apartment, I was shocked to find a package in front of the door. It was wrapped in plain brown paper and had nothing on it to indicate where it had come from, only my name, Noelle Delgado, scrawled in flowing handwriting.

“Is that for me?” Alex asked.

“No, it's for me,” I replied, looking around. There was a similar package at Maggie's door.

“What’s in it?” he pressed.

I picked it up. It wasn't large or particularly heavy. “I don't know. Come on. Let's get inside. It's cold out here.”

Once we hung up our jackets, I got Alex settled at the table with his homework and a snack. I changed out of the awful polyester uniform the got the laundry going.

The box was still sitting on the kitchen counter. I gasped when I opened the package. Inside the box was a beautiful periwinkle down coat. It was lightweight but looked much warmer than my jacket/hoodie combination. It came almost to my ankles. One pocket held a pair of insulated gloves. The other hid a strapped pack of hundred-dollar bills. I fell to my knees. Who in the world sent me ten thousand dollars?

There was a knock on the door. I shoved the money into one of the cupboards before answering it. Maggie stood there with a quizzical look.

“I was going to ask if you had received a random package, but I believe that coat answers that question,” she said.

I stood aside to let her in. “Yes. I saw you got one too.”

Maggie nodded. “A top-of-the-line laptop so I can continue writing my short stories. It's one of those that are good for computer graphics. It came with a subscription to the Adobe suite I’ve been wanting but haven't been willing to pay for.”

“Do you have any idea where it came from?” I asked.

Maggie shook her head. “Not a clue.”

“The only thing I know is that drones delivered them. There were tons of them flying around town when Alex and I were coming home.” I said.

That night I had trouble sleeping. How many other people had received gifts from Bradford’s mysterious benefactor? And why were they sent?

I yawned as I kissed Alex goodbye the next morning. He was still sound asleep, which was good. He often woke up in the wee hours of the morning. Maggie waved groggily at me from the table, clutching her first of many coffees. I had a feeling she had been up all night exploring that computer. I shrugged on my new coat and slipped on the gloves before walking out the door.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so warm walking to work in the winter. I was still trying to figure out what to do with the cash, now safely stowed in a shoebox in my closet. I was worried that someone would question where it had come from if I tried to deposit it in my bank account.

Marcy and Paula were talking animatedly behind the counter when I walked in.

“Look at you in that nice new coat,” Marcy said. “I guess I don’t have to ask if the package fairy visited you.”

I nodded. “You too?”

Paula held out her arm to display a pretty garnet bracelet. “I’ve been eyeing this over at Groverton’s Jewelry for ages.”

Marcy smiled. “I got two tickets for that Alaskan cruise I’ve been begging John to take me on.”

Eddy staggered in before I could respond. I scurried to the back to hang my coat up to avoid his wrath for not being ready to go before the diner opened. Eddy ignored me as I came back out. He seemed oddly nervous, looking up frantically whenever a customer walked through the door.

The diner was extraordinarily busy for a weekday morning. No one complained if their food didn't arrive in a timely fashion. They were too busy discussing the mysterious delivery the day before. From what I overheard as I rushed between the tables, it was a mixed bag between them receiving desired gifts and things that left the recipients feeling less than happy.

Everything came to a grinding halt when the local sheriff and two deputies came in looking for my boss. Eddy tried to run as soon as he saw them but got tripped up. It turned out he had a warrant for his arrest. He had been hiding out in Bradford using a false identity.

Later that day, Marcy found an article in the newspaper calling out a local businessman for infidelity. I wasn't completely surprised, despite how much he tried to convince everyone that he was in a loving marriage. There were too many incidents of him attempting to put his hand up our skirts when he ate at the diner. He had always given me bad vibes.

The diner was closed for several days before Eddy’s lawyer called us together. She handed us a document he had signed, turning the business over to be jointly owned by the employees he had been taking advantage of.

At that point, I was determined to find out who had turned Bradford upside down. It had to be someone who knew us well. It would have taken a vast fortune to pull it off. Only one person in town had anywhere near that kind of money. No one I asked had seen Ian Sterling in quite a while, not even at the theater.

I wanted to do more research before I went to his estate on the edge of town to confront him. What I found had me in tears. Forty years earlier, Ian had been in a horrific car accident that took the lives of his wife and two children. The speculation was that he had been driving drunk and was responsible for the crash. Ian ended his acting career and disappeared from the public eye.

I took a deep breath before ringing the bell. I felt like I was invading Ian’s privacy. But I knew the crushing pain of losing someone I loved.

The woman who answered the door wore a cardigan set and dress skirt. In my jeans and worn sweater, I felt vastly underdressed in her presence.

“Hello, Noelle,” she said in a subdued greeting. “I was wondering how soon you’d visit. I assume you figured out we sent the drone deliveries. Come in.”

“What? How do you know who I am?” I asked.

She took my coat and draped it over a chair. “Mr. Sterling told me all about you. I am Grace, Ian’s personal assistant.” She buzzed an intercom and asked for a tea service. After we were seated in cozy armchairs before a blazing fire, Grace reached out and touched my hand. “I will answer all of your questions, but I must tell you, Ian passed the day before we released the drones.”

Tears sprung to my eyes. “Oh no. What happened?”

“Cancer. His last wish was to deliver his gifts to Bradford. Ian held out until he was sure everything was in place.”

“But why?” I asked, trying not to sniffle.

Grace smiled gently. “He grew to love Bradford and the people here. Well, most of them. I don't necessarily approve of his desire to punish those who he felt were unworthy. I think it came from his need to punish himself. You know about the accident?”

I nodded.

“And you are aware that he came from a very wealthy family? The acting was merely for his enjoyment.” Grace continued.

I had read that in my research. “Yes.”

Grace pulled a manilla envelope out of an end table drawer and handed it to me. Inside were several papers. The top sheet was labeled The Last Will and Testament of Ian Daniel Sterling.

I didn't know why she gave it to me. It took a moment before it hit me. That's why his eyes were so familiar. “Daniel?”

She nodded. “Yes, Ian played the role of Daniel.” I must have looked as confused as I felt because she answered my unasked question. “It was a test, not just for you. It's not uncommon for people to treat the rich with respect but the destitute with disdain. Go on, read it.”

I scanned through the legalese until I found the reason Grace had given me the will. “He left everything to me? Why?”

“Ian had no heirs. I’m not sure there will ever be a right time to tell you this, but he fell in love with you. There are so many reasons why he didn’t feel he could tell you. Ian wouldn’t allow himself to love again after the accident, and he knew he was dying. He refused to make you a widow again.” Grace explained. “If he had proposed and you had accepted, this would have been yours anyway.”

I didn’t know what to do. I considered Ian to be a good friend. I didn’t know if I loved him. I couldn’t let Mateo go any more than Ian could let his family go. My mind felt like it was spinning. I signed, whatever papers Grace put in front of me in a daze.

That night, Maggie and I sat in my living room drinking hot chocolate. She listened as I explained everything. Maggie helped me brainstorm what to do.

In the end, I decided not to move into the estate. It was far too big for Alex and me. With help from Maggie and Grace, we transformed it into a retreat for writers, artists, and entertainers. In time, we would build a new theater on the land, so the local thespians didn’t need to use the high school auditorium for their performances.

I signed my portion of the diner over to the others and bought a cozy house. There was a small backyard that I equipped with a fire pit for me and a cocoon swing for Alex. Maggie and I spent many pleasant evenings talking around the fire while Alex curled up in the swing.

With the money left to me, I no longer needed to fight for every penny. I used a portion of the money to start a charity to help those less fortunate. Then I began homeschooling Alex.

In some ways, despite Ian trying to protect me from it, losing him was like losing Mateo all over again. But in a strange way, it allowed me to be free of my grief and go on again.