Mail Order Annie
Copyright© 2025 by DFL Runner
Chapter 6
Lydia found Annie in the dining room once more, today instructing Abigail on basic arithmetic. Abigail had been hesitant to seek Annie out, not wanting to confess her lack of education, but even though she wasn’t sure how to determine how much change she should receive from a transaction, she knew the owner of the dry goods store hadn’t been giving her enough. Her determination to reclaim a small bit of dignity for herself had won out over her pride, and now she was becoming more proficient in determining how much she should receive if she gave a half dollar coin for a 21-cent pair of stockings.
“So you see,” Annie was saying, “this is how you decide how much change you should get. You give Mr. Scholes 50 cents, and you subtract 21 cents like I showed you, and he should give you 29 cents back. But if you don’t have pen and paper, you just count it out. The stockings are 21 cents, and...”
Abigail recited the process Annie had taught her, then smiled, showing the dimple that made her a favorite of several clients. “He should give me four pennies, a nickel, and two dimes!”
Annie gleefully wrapped her arm around Abigail’s shoulder in a quick hug. “And if Mr. Scholes tries to cheat you again?”
“I’ll count it out in front of him – out loud! For everyone to hear!”
Lydia observed them at a distance, something she always enjoyed doing. Watching Annie teach reading or arithmetic lessons was like watching someone grow a sense of dignity in that moment – for both student and teacher.
Lydia then walked in, placing her hand between them on the table. “And if Mr. Scholes sees fit to try to cheat you again, send him to me. I know how to tell a man to mind his place!”
As Abigail stepped away to prepare for the evening’s visitors, Lydia sat in the chair Abigail had just vacated. Unknown to Annie, she had been going to the postal station every day. Her girls rarely received mail, but she had been waiting for one particular girl to receive one particular piece of mail. She wanted to see Annie’s face when she received it.
In truth, she also wanted to know what it said.
Holding Annie’s gaze, Lydia wordlessly laid an envelope on the table.
All propriety was disregarded as Annie grabbed the letter the way a hungry dog might grab a bone. Her hands trembled as she tore at the envelope. A corner of her mind warned her to be careful, lest she tear the paper inside as well.
Annie’s initial inclination was to read the letter as quickly as she could, as if it were nourishment to a body that had not eaten in a week. But her eyes ... her mind ... her heart all froze in the second paragraph.
” ... but whether I might be worthy of you.”
Genuine emotion, the first she had truly allowed herself to fully feel since that terrible day when... that man ... sullied her, overwhelmed Annie as tears threatened to spill out her eyes.
“Worthy of me?” she whispered to the paper, having forgotten Lydia was even in the room. “How could you think yourself unworthy of me?”
She continued reading: “ ... You are worthy of a man who will speak gently and honestly to you, and of you.”
A wet gasp came forth from her chest, and although she did not consciously realize it, her heart gave up the battle to hold back her tears.
” ... I find hope in a Creator who can see two wounded souls and bring them together to walk the same road and share the same burdens.”
With that, Annie pushed the paper slightly away from her, but kept the words in contact with her fingers as she lay her head on the table, weeping into her arms. Though she had wept often in the privacy of her room during these many months, they were tears of recrimination, of disgust, of despair.
These ... these were tears of hope. Even if nothing further came of their correspondence, she had this moment, when someone deemed her worthy. Worthy of being ... she hardly dared to even think the word ... his.
Somewhere beyond her own body, nearly beyond her own consciousness, she felt Lydia’s hand on her, gently caressing her back, whispering formless words of reassurance to her.
When she was ready, she lifted her head and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Then she re-read the letter. And then she slid the paper across the table to Lydia; she knew Lydia was nearly as anxious to read it as she had been.
Lydia’s smile was nearly as wide as her own when she looked up after she finished reading.
Even so, Annie pressed her palms to the table, grounding herself back to reality. Hope could be a dangerous thing, and she needed to ensure she was not blinded by it. Saying she was worthy was one thing. Showing it to her was quite another.
“What do I say in reply to him?” Annie asked.
Lydia straightened in her chair and paused for the briefest moment. “Say you want him to send for you.”
Annie stammered. “W-what?”
Lydia looked at her gently, carefully. “Do you want him to send for you?”
“Of course!” Annie was a bit embarrassed by how quickly that answer had come forth, though she had to admit, it was true. “But...”
Lydia placed a hand on Annie’s shoulder. “You have no secrets with him. He knows your situation, and he hardly seems scandalized by it. He does not seem like a man who would hold it against you. Either that, or he is an exceptionally good liar. I’ve met many men in this business, and very few of them can lie that well.”
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