Chapter Two

“Well, first off, you’re wrong. You’re not boring and that stuff is exactly what Jon wants to hear. He’s over there in another world, wishing he were home with you. He feels out of touch, disconnected, and if he’s anything like my Nick, probably a bit afraid that the separation will be too much for you and you’ll call it quits.”

“I love Jon. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this, somehow.” I hope, she added mentally.

“Yes, you will,” Lynette said cheerfully, “and I’m going to tell you how. First I need to know, what method of communication do you two use now?”

Evie frowned. “The usual, I guess. We email, Facebook, and Skype, although that’s more difficult because of the time difference and,” she sighed, “because I go to his parent’s home so he can check in with us all at the same time.”

Lynette pursed her lips. “So you don’t really have any privacy when you talk?”

“No, not that it matters. He’s so limited on what he can say. You know how it is. He can’t talk about his job, where he’s going or what he’s doing. That puts everything on me and as I said, my life’s simply not that interesting.” Evie chewed her bottom lip. “His family being there is actually a relief,” she admitted guiltily.

“You didn’t mention letters,” Lynette commented.

Evie’s brows furrowed. “Well, no. We email. It’s a lot faster.”

Lynette gave her a wicked grin. “Honey, it’s not about speed. It’s about communication. I’m going to tell you the secret that saved my marriage and probably the marriage of every woman in here.” She paused dramatically. “Write Jon a letter.”

Evie waited for the rest of it. Surely there was more. “That’s it? That’s your big secret? Write my husband a letter?”

Her hostess laughed. “It sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? But you have no idea how powerful the pen is. Did you ever have a diary as a child?”

“Well, yes.” Didn’t every girl? Evie wondered.

“And I’ll bet in it you wrote down all your secrets, your hopes, dreams and wishes. Things you wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing with anyone else?” Lynette said.

Since that’s exactly what she’d done, Evie nodded.

Lynette smiled. “That’s the power of ink and paper. Think about it, Evie. You said Jon’s a talker. Since opposites attracts, that means you’re the thinker, correct?”

Evie nodded.

“I’ll bet Jon’s already moved on to the next comment before you’ve gathered your thoughts enough to respond to the first.” Lynette’s gaze was knowing.

She gazed at the older woman a bit suspiciously. “Do you know Jon?”

Lynette laughed again. “No, honey, but I know men. My husband’s the same way. Now I want you to imagine this. It’s you and Jon, alone in your bedroom. You’re the focus of his complete attention. You can say anything you want to say to him, make any confession, and he can’t interrupt or get angry with you. What would you say?”

Evie thought about it, trying to imagine just such a scenario. “I don’t know.”

Lynette patted her on the knee. “Think about it. That’s the beauty of letters. In them you can write anything you want to say, be anyone you want to be.”

One of the other wives passing by overheard Lynette and stopped. “Is she giving you the letter speech? Listen to her. I thought it was stupid at first until I tried it. Charlie loved it. It really made a difference. In fact, he loved it so much, even when he’s home I slip little notes into his lunchbox or coat pocket. It really heated up our love life, let me tell you.”

Evie glanced back and forth between the women. “I don’t understand. How can a letter help your love life?”

The woman glanced at Lynette. “You didn’t tell her?”

Lynette shook her head. “No, hadn’t got to that part yet. Pauline, why don’t you explain?”

“Hold up. Let me grab a chair.” Pauline, a tall slender African-American woman with a gorgeous complexion, walked a short distance away and came back with one of the folding chairs. “Now, as I was saying, it’s not the letter itself but what you put in it that counts. In it I can be as sexy and daring as I like. Charlie really likes it when I write out these little sex fantasies I have with him as the hero. Even if we never act them out, he knows I’m thinking about him and sex, not some other man. And when he finally gets home…?” She took a napkin and fanned her face. Then she grinned and said, “Come to think of it, those letters might be why we have three kids.”

“Uh-huh, the letters got you pregnant,” Lynette said wryly and Pauline threw a grape at her.

“You know what I mean,” Pauline said as she laughed.