Sealed by Infinity

Ruth's day had been rotten.

Point of fact, she was closer to tears by the time she had got to her doorstep, than she had ever been in public - at least since she was a kid.

The shame and pain had her hand shaking when she went to unlock the door. Australians are supposed to be tough. We never let the world in on just how crap we might be doing.

The door opened easily, and as it did, a letter that had been jammed in, and Ruth had been too preoccupied to notice, shot straight into her face. Causing her to yell, step backwards, miss the step, and fall onto her rump.

Ruth grimaced, feeling it smart, before snatching up the offending letter and heading inside. Her house keys fell to the nearby bench, and the letter into the bowlful of bills waiting for her attention.

Not that she was particularly poor. Sort of. The house had no mortgage, and wasn't a rental. Her father had gifted it to her, when her grandmother had passed it to him during the dull pain of inheritance legalities.

She'd spent her childhood here, grinning at grandma whilst covered in mud from the backyard, and asking if she might be allowed another cookie.

Never a last cookie.

Ruth stopped by one of the photos on the wall, and smiled up at it. She was right in the middle, kneeling on the floor with a cookie in her mouth, and a brand-new brand-name doll between her hands. Behind her was her grandma, with that same family grin, hands on Ruth's shoulders.

Her grandpa was in the photo, to the left of grandma. His arms were crossed, and he was making it plain and obvious that he did not want to be a single part of this thing.

To the right was her grandma's best friend. Ruth had always called her Aunty Shirley, even though she wasn't an aunt. That woman had an arm around her grandma's waist, and an even bigger smile on her face. If Ruth remembered rightly, the gift had been Shirley's. She was just back from America, or something.

She travelled a lot.

Ruth frowned for a moment, she couldn't remember when she'd stopped seeing Shirley. She was just gone, by the time Ruth had reached high school. She knew the woman was probably dead by now, or close to it. She wouldn't have minded telling that woman how much she'd meant to her, one last time. And that she was worth more than a cookie.

The terrors of the day started to fade as Ruth flicked the switch on the coffee machine. An actual coffee machine, which boiled its own water, and then cooled it just a little, before pouring into the ground beans she prepped before heading off to work.

Another gift from her dad. The man knew her.

She was still absolutely furious about what had happened that morning. The pain was beginning to fade, but not the anger. She wasn't entirely sure how she was going to work underneath her boss, after what he'd done, today.

The day was ending, and everyone was stretching and beginning to fetch their things, when Ruth had got up the courage, and approached Sara. The girl had been her Christmas Santa a couple of times, and they'd done a few projects together, but Ruth had done her best not to even hint.

A professional relationship should be professional. That was something she was raised to think. Her grandma had certainly said it a few times to Shirley.

Ruth had stammered when she'd asked Sara if she wanted to get a cup of coffee one weekend, together. The other woman had asked if there was a project that the two were going to be working on, that she'd forgotten about.

She had nearly given up and walked away, right then. Sara didn't see the chance. Ruth didn't even know if Sara liked more than just men. Herself, until high school she'd thought she'd only liked women. Then she'd learnt rather quickly she twisted both ways. High school was hell.

Ruth had stared at her feet, blushed, and stammered out that it'd just be the two of them. Not exactly what Sara had asked, but she was panicking.

Before Sara could answer, beyond more than a small laugh, their boss had suddenly stormed over. He was shouting and Ruth was staring and just about having a panic attack, before she realised that he was shouting about how it was fine if she was gay, but she needed to keep it out of the damn workplace.

Ruth had... Lost her temper.

She shouted right back, and he shouted she didn't need to come back on Monday. So she'd stormed out of the building before the tears had a chance to fall.

Ruth picked up her coffee and sipped at it, trying to focus on relaxing, when she realised she hadn't actually looked at the letter, before assuming it was a bill.

Walking back to it, and glancing at the slightly creme-coloured envelope, it really didn't actually look like a bill. It wasn't addressed to her, particularly. Just the address on the front, no name.

Turning it over, there wasn't a sending address. Instead, the envelope was sealed with wax, which was a bit weird, and that was sealed with the icon of infinity.

Flipping back to the front, the postage stamps, they were for five cents each. Depicting the queen on a blue background, and a whole heap of them. It really felt like some kind of antique.

Ruth frowned.

It really didn't feel like it was for her. This felt like the post office had lost a letter for someone else, and in the post-COVID shakeup, had found it and sent it out.

Opening a letter intended for somebody else was a crime. Not that she would tell anybody that she had, but it wasn't something she was supposed to do, and she was very good at staying inside the lines.

It didn't have a name though, which probably made it okay for the house owner to open it.

No one she knew would ever seal a letter with wax.

With a guilty feeling pushing onto the pit of her stomach, Ruth took her coffee and letter over to her couch. She sat down, and then cracked the wax seal, breaking the infinity in two, and slid it open.

Inside she found a delicate and thin sheet of paper, that somehow also felt expensive. Pulling it out, she began to read it.

---

My dearest, my sweet little peanut,

I do hope that this letter finds you well. I know that you might well burn it, without reading it. You don't want to hear from me, peanut, but... I needed to try one last time.

If these words do find your eyes, then please, indulge me a little. Let me tell you all about everything, before I dare to dip my toe into a pool that you swore I should never bathe in, again. Please, if not for love, then for old times sake.

I beg you, peanut.

As you may or may not know, I'm writing to you from the land of so-called opportunity. I'm with my cousin, in New York City. Place is full of people too stuck up their own noses to look where they're walking, but they do have a good heart. Just the American attitude on things.

The apartments here, make the apartments back there feel like mansions. All the same, the views are utterly stunning. Twinkling starlight all around from every building, as you wonder if you can fall asleep in the soft and warm glow.

Times Square, that you always wanted to visit, is so much noisier than I expected. My own fault, I suppose. All the same, an amazing place. The My Fair Lady marquee is something to see.

Though, as you would undoubtedly guess, I had my purse pinched. Place is a thriving something, with all the topless bars, adult theatres and yes... Pickpockets.

I guess I have to confess it. I did go to some of those bars, and even to one of the theatres. Never going back to one of those. That was... Beyond ick. Horrifying, truly.

Speaking of seedy things, how is Paul? I know you say that you love him... But I've seen the way you look at him. I know you, better than so many people around you. Did your father guess what you are? Did your mother?

I walked right up to you, and asked you. I knew you.

I never did understand why you were interested in New York style pizza. I mean, pizza is pizza, right? I have to say, though, that it isn't. I've had it now, from that place you said you always wanted to visit. I went there, wishing you were on my wrist.

And, on my wrist.

There's still all that rampant hatred over here. There are so many people who will call the cops if they figure you to be a dyke. Yet... There's gay bars. There's gays being paraded in Hollywood. We're on the edge of something here, peanut, the edge of being free to be who we are.

Speaking of diving off into dreams, I have finally tried sushi. It is every bit what I imagined it to be. Melbourne has to get in gear, peanut. They really need to invest in Japanese cuisine, or Sydney will do it first.

Can't let NSW beat us to it.

I... I'm sorry.

The last conversation we had, where you weren't ready to come forward, come out... I didn't listen to you. I took it as an insult to me, thinking you weren't willing to take the risk for me, that I was for you. I ruined us.

Despite it all... Ruth... I love you.

I know the world over there is shouting that I shouldn't. I know that you're so very scared of what might happen if anybody finds out. Terrified of what Paul might do, if he gets even an inkling that you aren't his to own and have.

That fear... That's wrong, peanut.

That you are afraid, tells me that the life you have, isn't what it should be. You deserve more than that. I do not know if what I can give you, will ever be close to what you deserve.

But I wanted... Just one last time... To tell you, that you deserve it all.

A wedding, on a beach. The sun setting, as two brides kiss each other. Their fathers freely, happily, giving them both away. A garden nearby to dance the night away.

A hotel overlooking the beach for us both to scurry off to. A place where we could turn the whispers of our love into something bigger. Where I can say 'I love you', and make damn sure everyone hears it.

A place where we could have the first best day of our lives, to be followed by so many more.

I love you, peanut,

Shirley.

---

Ruth sat on the couch, sniffling, as she finished reading the love letter sent to her grandma, by her sweet Aunt Shirley. It was a tragedy that this hadn't arrived, and it was a tragedy that the two women had gone their separate ways.

She couldn't help but see all the parallels to her own life. Her parents had done right by naming her after her grandma.

She nearly leapt out of her chair when her phone buzzed. She pulled the darn thing out, before her heart just about tried to climb out of her throat.

The text was from Sara.