Sophie Was Blamed for Ruining Christmas — Then the Living Room Camera Showed the Real Culprit Had Four Paws
Chapter 7 — The Letter Thomas Never Sent
Elena found something else among Thomas’s belongings.
A letter addressed to Richard.
Never mailed.
Written in 2004.
Thomas began:
Rich, I’ve rewritten this letter enough times to know the problem isn’t the wording.
Richard read slowly.
Thomas admitted the song hurt him.
Not because Richard became successful.
Not because Thomas wanted money.
But because hearing it made him feel as though the best part of their friendship had happened without him.
Then came a line Richard had to read twice.
I was waiting for you to call, while convincing myself I would reject you if you did.
Michael looked at his father.
Richard laughed bitterly.
“I was doing the same thing.”
Richard had almost contacted Thomas several times.
In 1987.
1996.
Again after his own wife died.
Each time, he stopped.
Too embarrassed.
Too proud.
Too afraid of hearing:
“You waited too long.”
Thomas’s letter ended differently.
If we never fix this, I hope somebody someday understands that Winter Morning belonged to the two boys we were, even if the men we became couldn’t figure out how to share it.
Richard put the letter down.
Sophie climbed beside him.
“Are you sad?”
Richard nodded.
“A little.”
“Because Thomas died?”
“Yes.”
Then Richard looked toward the matching ornaments.
“And because we had a very long time to talk before he did.”
