It's a gift. Don't open it now. Do it later, when you have a little quiet.
The envelope is white, a simple laser-cut lace pattern gracing the flap on the back. The front is completely plain, save for my name, written in Caleb's loopy penmanship.
bridget
This is new.
I nod and he gives me a hurried kiss on the forehead and a shove inside the opened back door, home. I tuck the envelope into the pocket of my skirt and forget all about it, sending it through the washing machine this morning. And then the dryer too.
I bring it to him just after lunch today as it is a hard little paper egg and I can't get it apart so I guess we have to start over. I doubt it was cash, he usually just scribbles a line or so to check my account or not even, sometimes he just lists a reason, and I have to embark on a financial scavenger hunt to find the actual 'gift'.
This is my fault, I shouldn't have asked you to wait. Just a moment. I'll make up another.
He disappears down the hall to his office. I follow.
Can't you just tell me what it says?
Honestly, Neamhchiontach, this gift is one that involves a rather large amount of humility on my part and I would rather not be present for any of it. I'm trying to do things I should have done a long time ago.
I frown. What are you talking about?
He takes a deep breath and lets it out. You'll understand shortly. Have Lochlan there when you open it, maybe. Yes. Make sure he's there and make sure he's with you when you go to collect. That part is very important. If he can't then you'll have to come back for me to go with you. Promise me.
I promise-
Now go. Another envelope, another shove and I'm left in yesterday again.
