Letters from Becca: A Contemporary Romance Fiction Novel by Margaret Ferguson

sadly.
    “Yeah, I got your letter when she died.  I’m very sorry.”
    “She would have been so proud,” she began, brushing his lapel as if to dust it off.
    “I’ll bet.  Marrying the mayor’s son and the quarterback.”
    “I was talking about you,” she smiled.  “She would have been so proud to see you now.  A pilot and an officer.”
    “Right,” John said, rolling his eyes.
    Becca narrowed her own.  “No matter what you think, she liked you.”
    John laughed.
    “Really.  She said leaving this town was the best thing you could have done.”
    “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
    Becca gripped his hand tighter.  “The best thing you could have done for yourself, ” she emphasized.  “No matter what you think, she thought the world of you.  It was your father she had the problem with.”
    “Guilty by association?” he asked.
    Becca added sadly, “Something like that.”
    John looked over her shoulder, watching David as he watched them.  David held up his flask to toast John again, and then took a swig.  John gave him a nod.
    “I was sorry to hear about your father,” Becca said.
    John looked around the room as they turned.  “That makes one of us.”
    “I thought you would be at his funeral.”
    “I’m sure the whole town turned out for that one,” he remarked sarcastically.
    Becca smiled.  “Maybe with time,” she began.
    “I don’t think so,” he said firmly.  His gaze turned back to her.  She was trying so hard.  He slowly looked her up and down and smiled.  “It is a beautiful dress.”
    Her smile grew.  “Do you believe in destiny?”
    John shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Maybe.”
    Becca saw David and she couldn’t help but smile.  She turned back to John.  “Everything is so perfect, John,” she said, looking him in the eyes.  “I’ve never been this happy.”
    John smiled as sincerely as he could and pulled her closer, spinning her slowly.
    “I am happy, John,” she said softly to his shoulder.  She leaned back just a bit, enough to look him in his eyes again.  “Please be happy for me,” she pleaded.  “I need you to be happy for me.”
    The song ended.  Everyone on the floor stopped and clapped.  When John turned, David was standing there waiting for them.  “There you are, monopolizing my bride.”  He took Becca’s hand and kissed it.  He turned to John.  “You do look good, flyboy.  So, when do you get out?”
    “Whenever they’ve had enough of me, I guess,” he chuckled.
    David laughed.  “That soon, huh?”
    One of her bridesmaids, dressed in baby-blue taffeta, caught Becca’s attention and smiled.  Becca motioned for her to come over to them.  John turned as she walked up.  Becca introduced her as Marissa—the name just vaguely familiar.  She blushed when John shook her hand.  She told him she had been in three of his classes his senior year.  He nodded politely though he couldn’t remember her.  David teased her about how she used to be plain and lanky and thin.  John looked her up and down.  She had filled out nicely.  She caught him looking at her.  Becca did, too.
    “You two should dance,” Becca said, pushing John toward Marissa.
    John didn’t want to offend two ladies at once.  He smiled and held out his hand.  Marissa took it and followed him to the dance floor.  They didn’t talk for most of the dance.  It was considerably uncomfortable for both of them.  Whenever they looked at each other, they smiled awkwardly.  She felt good in his arms—or was it just having a woman in his arms that felt good?
    “I can’t believe you don’t remember me,” she said softly.
    “I’m sorry,” he sighed.  “I tried to forget as much about this town as I could when I left.”
    “Yeah,” she rolled her head side to side.  “I can’t wait to get out of this town.  I’m going to Southwest Texas right now.  But that’s not far enough away for me,” she chattered on.
    “What are you