Chapter 3: The First Letter

Melanie fortified herself with a small glass of white wine, and sat with her legs crossed at the ankles to read his letter.

Friday, January 20, 2023

Dear Melanie Geary,

Before anything else, I want to apologize for being secretive and contacting you in writing, instead of in person. I know that there are evil men in the world who are stalkers and dangerous, and a young single mother like yourself must be extra-cautious.

I hope I can reassure you that I am the opposite of a threat. I mean you no harm.

Disbelieve me? Then you can strike me down with that red marker. I will explain.

By way of introduction, this is what you should know about me.

You must already realize that I live very close to you, because of the mailbox access.

I am 28 years old, a college graduate (Bachelor’s), and I have some wealth and a good income. Actually, I have enough income from investments that I don’t need to work a regular job. Instead, I only have a volunteer commitment that runs about 16 hours per week.

I could pay the daycare fees for that entire class and not even notice it. Come to think of it, I could buy that entire daycare business for cash, without a second thought. This not to brag, simply to explain why, I hope, you should not be bothered over my paying Amy’s fees.

Wait a minute. I think he has misunderstood me completely. Am I supposed to think that I MUST be attracted to him, because he has lots of money?

I am renting here because this complex offers high-speed fiber connections to the internet. This access is important for my work.

“Average” describes me pretty well. Average height, weight, looks, etc. So far, nobody has shrieked and run away screaming when they see my face.

But here is my problem. I am catastrophically shy. It’s so bad, I consider it a disability. According to Doctor Internet, I have “SAD”—Social Anxiety Disorder. It has affected my life greatly.

I’m nervous about writing to you, but for me writing is miles easier than talking face-to-face.

I first noticed you and your daughter about a year ago, perhaps. You were out in the lobby, waiting for a delivery, maybe?

Amy has got to be the cutest and sweetest little girls I’ve ever seen. And her mother is exceptionally beautiful. More important, I can tell what a wonderful person you are, simply by seeing your daughter, and how she behaves.

The little playground area of the complex can be seen from my window, and I see you both out there on nice days.

I do also see the tiredness, the frustration, all the stress that you have in life. You’re a single mother, making do and raising her on an obviously limited income.

You must get zero help from Amy’s father.

But in all that tough living, you are always kind and loving to Amy. Obviously, SAD means I don’t have my own child, but I can imagine how exhausting raising one can be. But Amy proves, by her behavior, she has a loving home created by the strength and perseverance of her mother.

I cannot tell you how much this attracts me. My own youth was, well, it was difficult. It’s part of the reason I can’t talk to people in general, and grown women in particular.

Much as I want to, I can’t show myself to you yet. Please remember the red marker, the Sharpie.

Everything STOPS if you put a red “X” on the door of your mailbox, Melanie. I promise, if you mark the “X” then you will never hear from or see me again.

But I hope, desperately, that you do NOT use the Sharpie. I mean you no harm. I am struggling, trying to think of a way I can show you that I am no risk to you.

This is not going well. I don’t he has an understanding of how I want to be thought of by a man. Not as some kind of noble saint of motherhood.