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❄The Christmas Card Lost to Time❄
emorrill
Posts: 8,121 Member
Debut November 25th, 2019
Hello my friends...
It is with great pleasure and excitement that I present my 2019 Sims Christmas story: The Christmas Card Lost to Time for your reading enjoyment this Holiday season. ❄ With it being finished I honestly couldn't wait another week, like I planned, to debut it!
And it kinda makes sense I post it a little early since the story begins around Thanksgiving. 
I will admit that this story is not as Christmasy as my last one, but there is for sure enough Christmas in it to call it a Christmas story. This story is filled with mystery, family history, love, joy and sadness. There's so many different messages you can take away from this story and that's why I hold it so near and dear to my heart and number it among one of the best stories I have written in my lifetime. 
I wanted to give a special thanks, and credit, to @Pary who came up with the basic story line for this story and told it to me in a PM after I did that poll asking all of you what kind of Christmas story theme you would be interested in reading about. Her idea was epic and brilliant - as I was struggling to find just the right story to tell with the winning poll answer: A 50 year old Christmas Card that shows up in the mail. I wish to give her this credit, of course, for the story idea. Then I went and expounded upon it all, adding in some original ideas I had and letting my imagination go wild 
, turning it into this beautiful finished product. Pary, I hope you love it. 
I'm chuckling at the moment thinking about how I've incorporated a few things from my personal life within this story and those of you who know me pretty well will surely be able to pick up on them.
(Feel free to point those out to me. ) But let's face it, I kinda do that sometimes when writing my stories anyway.
Another thanks to a fellow simmer will be given in the chapters to come. And naturally I will be sharing specific songs at the end of some chapters that I feel relate to what happened in the said chapter. Because you know me, I love music, and relate it to everything!
Two to three chapters will be posted each week leading up to Christmas.
There are 9 total and a couple of them are pretty long so I will most likely have to divide them up into two posts.
So with that being said, and I'm sure y'all want me to quit gabbing, I present this Christmas story to you my dear friends. I want it to feel like you're watching a Hallmark Christmas movie while reading it. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did writing it and taking the pictures for it. Without you - and your support - I wouldn't be writing like this and finding so much joy in it so I thank you from the bottom of my heart for that.
Enjoy!
Hello my friends...
It is with great pleasure and excitement that I present my 2019 Sims Christmas story: The Christmas Card Lost to Time for your reading enjoyment this Holiday season. ❄ With it being finished I honestly couldn't wait another week, like I planned, to debut it!
And it kinda makes sense I post it a little early since the story begins around Thanksgiving. I will admit that this story is not as Christmasy as my last one, but there is for sure enough Christmas in it to call it a Christmas story.
This story is filled with mystery, family history, love, joy and sadness. There's so many different messages you can take away from this story and that's why I hold it so near and dear to my heart and number it among one of the best stories I have written in my lifetime. I wanted to give a special thanks, and credit, to @Pary who came up with the basic story line for this story and told it to me in a PM after I did that poll asking all of you what kind of Christmas story theme you would be interested in reading about. Her idea was epic and brilliant - as I was struggling to find just the right story to tell with the winning poll answer: A 50 year old Christmas Card that shows up in the mail.
I wish to give her this credit, of course, for the story idea. Then I went and expounded upon it all, adding in some original ideas I had and letting my imagination go wild , turning it into this beautiful finished product. Pary, I hope you love it. I'm chuckling at the moment thinking about how I've incorporated a few things from my personal life within this story and those of you who know me pretty well will surely be able to pick up on them.
(Feel free to point those out to me. ) But let's face it, I kinda do that sometimes when writing my stories anyway. Another thanks to a fellow simmer will be given in the chapters to come.
And naturally I will be sharing specific songs at the end of some chapters that I feel relate to what happened in the said chapter. Because you know me, I love music, and relate it to everything! Two to three chapters will be posted each week leading up to Christmas.
There are 9 total and a couple of them are pretty long so I will most likely have to divide them up into two posts.So with that being said, and I'm sure y'all want me to quit gabbing, I present this Christmas story to you my dear friends. I want it to feel like you're watching a Hallmark Christmas movie while reading it.
I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did writing it and taking the pictures for it. Without you - and your support - I wouldn't be writing like this and finding so much joy in it so I thank you from the bottom of my heart for that. Enjoy!
Post edited by EA_Cade on
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It was a mid Fall evening, the air becoming colder and colder from the gradually setting sun. Two weakened postal workers stepped back into the Post Office from the rear of the building wiping the cold sweat from their brows. They didn’t even bother waving goodbye to the truck driver as they just had to sit down!
“Whew!” one of them began, promptly closing the back door behind him and his co-worker. “That was the heaviest thing I have ever carried in my life!”
“Same!” the other agreed, while they both plopped themselves down onto folding metal chairs.
“Why the heck did they feel the need to replace a perfectly good mail sorter with a brand new one when there was nothing wrong with it?”
The co-worker shrugged. “Getting with the times I guess. We certainly need one that runs faster.”
“Yeah, but ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it right?’ I mean they’re always pushing for ways to cut costs so how is buying a brand new $30,000 sorting machine helping with that hmm?”
“Hey man, don’t ask me. It’s all a bunch of bureaucratic crap that we postal workers in the trenches don’t have any business knowing.” He rolled his eyes.
“Oh well,” the man sighed, glancing over at the now empty spot where the old mail sorter once sat, making the room feel a little bigger. “Guess we better sweep up before the new one--” he stopped, peering at something resting on the floor in its place, surrounded by dust bunnies. He stood up from his chair and went over to get a closer look.
“What?” his co-worker asked.
Crouching down to pick the item up, the man found it to be an old card and gently wiped away the dust to read what was on it. The ink had faded a bit, but it was still mostly legible, except for the date the letter was posted. It was addressed to a woman and at the top left corner the Sender only wrote their initials above a rather odd address. Below that was a circular stamp that read, “Department of the Army.”
“Wow!” the man whispered.
“What?” his co-worker asked again, coming to his side.
The man stood, studying the card intently, front and back, for a few seconds. “Just found a pretty old card. I know because stamps sure aren’t that cheap anymore!”
“Was that underneath the old machine?”
“Yeah…”
Silence ensued between the two as they handed the card back and forth to each other, feeling it, studying it, and thinking about who sent it and when.
“This had to have been from a soldier, possibly in the great world war,” the man who discovered the card deduced. “The penmanship fits the time and it looks like a Christmas card because of the holly stamp on the back.”
“Wow!” the co-worker breathed. “How unfortunate it got lost under that machine all these years. What if that lady was expecting it? And what do you suppose it says?”
“I dunno,” the man shook his head, “but this is a local address and as postal workers it is our duty to deliver this. Even if it is...quite possibly fifty years overdue. Hopefully this woman is still alive and lives in the same house. If not,” he met with his friend’s gaze, “I guess it’s up to the current resident to decide what they want to do with it.”
The Christmas season was inching closer and closer and Maureen Young couldn’t wait! The spirit that always came with it made magical things happen that could never be made possible otherwise. Lives and hearts change every year for the better through all the kindness, giving, and love. The problems of the world are forgotten and humanity is reminded of all the good that is still out there. That is why Christmas...is her favorite time of the year.
She’d feel guilty for nearly forgetting about Thanksgiving every year - which was a week away - in her anticipated excitement for the holidays, but thankfully her parents were always right on top with planning the big dinner and she loved that that tradition in her life has never changed. This year it was her job to provide the cranberry sauce and green bean casserole, it’d actually been that way for the past two years since her Grandmother’s passing and the food assignments changed a little. Her Grandmother Maureen, whom she was named after, was a beautiful soul. A woman full of life, wisdom, and grace. Maureen greatly relished all the moments she spent with her Grandma when she moved into her little Victorian cottage, that was once Maureen senior's childhood home, to help care for her as her health began to decline. Oh the stories Grandma Maureen would tell her...what a wonderful day and age she lived in. She felt like she knew everything about her Grandma and it was fantastic! They were alike in so many ways, and the years they spent together created a bond between them that seems so lacking in Grandmothers and Grandchildren today. Maureen felt truly blessed.
It took quite a while for her to get over her Grandmother’s passing, partly because the cottage just didn’t feel the same without her. That’s why when an injured cat - whose leg got nicked by a car wheel as it was crossing the road - was brought into the Veterinary clinic she works at a year ago, Maureen took the poor cat in to have as a companion in her lonely home and also because no one came to claim her. Maureen named her Maya, as her coloring and markings reminded her of the intricate style and color of ancient Mayan statues. Maya was truly a sweet and well behaved cat which always made Maureen wonder why no one claimed her. “Well...their loss, my gain,” she would always say to herself with a smile. And what a gain she was.
For the past few years friends and co-workers would always tease Maureen about when she was going to find a man to fill the lonely void in her life, to which she would reply, “I just spent six years in Veterinary school and am finally getting established as a Veterinarian. I won’t let all those years, and my career, go to waste!” In other words, she was more focused on her career at this point in her life. It’s not that she didn’t want to eventually find a good man and settle down, she just had other priorities at the moment and, in all actuality, the right man just hadn’t presented himself yet. As a pretty brown haired, blue eyed girl, she’d gone on a few dates in her 28 years of life, even had a serious boyfriend from Estonia of all places, but none of them seemed to connect to the puzzle piece that is Maureen Young. Sure it would bring her down at times, but her Grandmother advised her to “just pursue your dreams and everything will fall into place.” It seemed that nothing ever went wrong in Grandma Maureen’s life, probably because she followed that very advice. That gave Maureen the strength to carry on.
It was a sunny and crisp Fall morning in the town of Evansville, perfect for a day off from work which Maureen hadn’t taken since...her very first day of work! She certainly earned it! The beautifully auburn colored trees in the groves just outside of town were about to lose all their leaves for the season and she wanted to head over and bask in them before it was too late.
Before leaving her house though, she wrote down a reminder to pick up the food she was to bring for Thanksgiving on a sticky note and pressed it on the corner of the kitchen counter.
Just as she was about to say goodbye to Maya, a car horn sounded a few times from just outside. She peeked out the window and saw that it was the mailman.
“Since when does he honk for me?” Maureen asked herself as she opened the front door and waved at the mailman in acknowledgement. The man waved back with a smile and then drove away. Maureen stood in confusion. “Okaaaay,” she said, stepping off the deck and heading for the mailbox.
“I guess he delivered something important?” She shuddered to think there was a "Past Due" bill in there or something. At least she didn’t have a mortgage payment to worry about since her Grandma willed her the cottage and it’d been paid off for many years. That was a big plus in her young life.
Maureen found herself carefully opening the door of the mailbox and peeking in.
She was expecting at least 3 pieces of mail in there, but no...there was just one. She reached for the parchment like envelope and the size and weight of it told her it was a card. But this didn’t look like any usual card she’d ever received. There was a hint of an antique smell coming from it and the penmanship thereon was quite fine.
“Miss Maureen Baker,” she read aloud, her brows then furrowing for a moment. “Well they got the Maureen part right, but...wait,” she froze. Why did that last name sound familiar? It didn’t take long for it to register. Her Grandmother’s name for many years was Maureen Cuthburt, naturally since marrying her Grandfather Richard Cuthburt, but her maiden last name was Baker. This had just become intriguing...
Maureen promptly glanced over at the name of the Sender. There was no name, only initials above an address she didn’t recognize. The “Department of the Army,” stamp stuck out like a sore thumb. “What?” she whispered, turning the card over. A faint stamp of holly leaves with berries “sealed” the envelope. “Why would someone from the Army send a card to Grandma?” Her heart and mind began to race in curiosity and question. She studied the card again, even sniffed it. Yup, it definitely smelled like something from an antique shop. “How old is this card?” she asked in wonder. In an instant she raced back inside the house to open it and find out!
Plopping herself down onto her Grandma’s old, fancy sofa, she was just about to rip open the envelope when suddenly, she was stopped by some unknown force. The card now seemed to her a sacred thing, a piece of her family history, and she felt inclined to treat it as such. Carefully she carried it into the kitchen where her letter opener was, and returned with both items to the sofa.
It was the strangest feeling, as she carefully sliced open the top of the envelope. It was a mix of curiosity, thrill, and fear of the unknown. There was no denying the age of the card as she pulled it out of the envelope and awed at the beautiful Christmas scene printed upon it. It was definitely vintage. Suddenly this whole thing started to feel pretty cool!
In a gentle quickness she opened the card and there was a lot of text within written in that same elaborate handwriting that was on the envelope. She was pretty sure it was a gentleman’s handwriting. She wanted to delve right into the message, but the date at the top of the card caught her attention.
She gaped. The card was dated on Christmas Eve, 51 years ago this coming Christmas. “Oh my gosh,” she whispered breathlessly. It was like she’d just been given something from a time capsule. “How did this get lost in the mail? And how was it found?” But she couldn’t worry herself with those questions now. She leaned back into the old sofa to get more comfortable as she began to read.
My dearest, darling Maureen,
How is my dream girl on this cold, Christmas Eve night? Fine, I hope. Granted it’s not as cold here, but it may as well be without the warmth of your presence by my side. I can picture you now, darling, gazing at the lights upon your Christmas tree through a thick strand of your golden hair, submissive to your thoughts with a far-away look in your eye. You are missing me this Christmas just as I am missing you. You are asking yourself questions, particularly at this time, but do not worry, darling, because I am well and in good health.You are with me constantly, my love, because we are inseparable in mind and spirit, even if in reality we are seven thousand miles apart.
This is a perfect night for dreaming. There’s a big silver dollar of a moon and a cool breeze floating on the air. What a night, darling. It reminds me of April 15th when I met the girl of my dreams. No, there isn’t any pine trees or a parked car in front of the high school’s Sock Hop, but just the same it reminds me of a night I’ll never forget. Though awkward it may be, I am trying to say that I love you Maureen. I love you more than seems humanly possible, but why do you have to haunt me all the time?
Perhaps it is because of something I should have done that day at the Train Station when we were bidding each other an excruciating farewell. You were wearing that cheap promise ring I gave to you, and that would have been enough. Maureen Joan Baker, I want to spend the rest of my life with you when this war is over. And so my Christmas gift to you is a voice from seven thousand miles away asking for your hand in marriage. I will await your answer with great anticipation, even though I have a pretty good idea of what it will be. With all that I am able to control I promise to return to you my dearest and we will wed and spend the rest of our days together in bliss.
Right now, as I close my eyes, I picture kissing your sweet, tender lips, underneath the mistletoe in the light of the Christmas tree; the snow gently falling outside the window. Oh how my heart aches for your touch Maureen. Your love makes me strong and keeps me going.
I must leave you for tonight, dearest, but I will write tomorrow. Please assure my parents that I am well. Merry Christmas and goodnight, sweetheart, and sweet dreams. Dream of me? For I will sure be dreaming of you.
With all my love,
Stanley
While reading the end of the letter there Maureen had her hand held to her heart with tears forming in her eyes and smiling. It was the most romantic thing she’d read in a long time and it pained her to think that her dear Grandmother never received it.
But when she read the signed name at the bottom her eyes widened in curiosity. “Stanley? Who is he?” she asked, looking back at the envelope. She sighed as there was only the initial E for his last name. She froze for a moment, staring at the wall in deep thought as Maya jumped onto her lap.
“Grandma never told me about a Stanley in her life,” she frowned. And here she thought she knew everything about her Grandma’s life. “From what I understood she had no other lovers besides Grandpa. Grandpa…”
In a panic, Maureen jumped up from the sofa, dropping poor Maya, and raced up the stairs to a wall where a collage of old pictures hung.
She found the picture of her Grandma and Grandpa on their wedding day and began pulling it out of the frame, hoping to find a date written on the back. There was. It was dated January 8th, two weeks following the time Stanley wrote the proposal Christmas card. Maureen’s brow furrowed again. “Why would Grandma marry Grandpa if she was clearly in love with this Stanley guy? And he her?” she asked Maya, who just caught up with her at the top of the stairs.
Her immediate thought was that Stanley had been killed shortly after writing the card, but with how deeply she sensed the two were in love there’s no way her Grandma would’ve gotten over him that quickly. Never receiving the card aside, that was just too short of an amount of time to meet, fall in love with, and marry her Grandpa! Had she been dating both men at the same time? Was some kind of an affair going on? She gasped at the thought. That certainly wasn’t something her refined Grandmother would do!
“Something’s not right here,” she said, her eyes darting this way and that and lowering as her imagination began running wild with even more speculative scenarios.
“No!” she cried out, stopping them. She then drew in a deep breath to calm her nerves. “There’s no point in speculating, I need to find out the facts! I’ve gotta call my mom. She’s bound to know something!” Maya simply looked up at her and meowed.
Maureen frantically dialed her mom’s phone number, praying she had some answers. A great mystery had just landed in her lap, involving a woman she loved and admired her entire life, and maybe the situation was not what she feared. Either way she HAD to find out everything she could about this Stanley guy, starting with his last name!
Author's Note: I can't take all the credit for most of the words in Stanley's card as I used an online WWII letter as an example, but of course I changed things around a bit to sound more Christmasy.
Crazy isn't it?
PoppySims Archive
InnaLisa Pose Archive
Devolution of Sims - a once customisable open world sandbox which has become a DLC Party catalog in a shoebox
I ♡ Pudding
^Thank you again @Pary .
^Thank you @Alleenmens .
*Chapter 2 will be posted on Wednesday November 27th (USA
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My stories on this site:
https://forums.thesims.com/en_US/discussion/991317/my-sims-stories/p1?new=1
^ @Puddinroy Thank you buddy.
^ @lisasc360 Thank you lady.
^I thought that postal workers past and present would appreciate that.
Thank you for reading @Goulsquash and I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Enjoy!
❄Chapter 2❄
“Oh my goodness…,” Maureen’s mother Wendy trailed off, frozen in surprise. Her daughter had just informed her about the long lost card and read it to her. Then told her it was signed by a man named Stanley.
A nervous feeling came over Maureen as she knew the many tones of her mother’s voice quite well. “So...you have no idea who this Stanley guy is?”
There was a pause. “I - I really don’t,” she admitted. “I’m just as surprised as you are.”
“What!? Mom you have GOT to be kidding me!?”
“I really wish I wasn’t honey. Wow…,” she breathed, “Mom had another lover?”
Maureen pinched at the bridge of her nose. “Apparently. One she didn’t even seem to bother telling her own children about either. Are you sure she didn’t ever mention having a boyfriend in the war?”
“No,” Wendy replied, searching through her memories again. “I mean she mentioned dating before she married Dad, naturally, but honestly from my understanding being with Dad was the most serious relationship she was ever in.”
“Not according to this card!” Maureen retorted. “Seriously mom, doesn’t it bother you that two weeks after this card was written Grandma marries Grandpa? I mean, doesn’t that seem a little...suspicious?”
“Well honey, Stanley was in the war. He was probably killed so...Mom moved on. That happened a lot back then.”
“In two weeks time!?" she reiterated. "No one gets over their love THAT easily after death! That was one heck of a love letter! And if he did die why would she feel the need to never tell her posterity about him? I mean, did Grandpa even know about him?”
Wendy expressed a rather loud sigh. “What are you trying to say Maureen?” she asked solemnly.
“I,” she choked, forgetting this was her mom’s mother she was talking about and needed to be sensitive to that. “I don’t know mom… All I know is, there was another man in your mom’s life, who loved her dearly, and there’s a reason she never married him or told anyone about him. So I’m going to find out why.”
“And how exactly are you going to do that?” her mother asked. “It may take a great deal of time to find out all that information. You don't have much to go off of.”
“I know. So, I’m going to take a week off of work--”
“What!?”
“And I’m going to start by going through old town records and finding out Stanley’s full name and what happened with him or where he ended up. That’s the obvious place to start.”
Wendy sighed again, growing fearful of what her daughter would dig up. “Sweetie...I admire your tenacity with this, but maybe...we should just respect Grandma’s wishes to keep this love story in the past. That’s certainly where she felt it belonged.”
“I can’t mom,” Maureen admitted, trying to hold back her emotions. The deep connection she had with her Grandma made it hard to let this go. And there was more to it than that. “This is just too much of a mystery. I have to know...or I’m going to drive myself crazy!”
Wendy nodded, understanding. She’d be lying if she wasn’t just as curious too. “Alright,” she surrendered. “But don’t forget about Thanksgiving dinner while you’re figuring all this out okay?”
Maureen cracked a smile. “I won’t. Promise.”
The lady at City Hall was so helpful to Maureen, especially after hearing that she was trying to solve the mystery of a possible tragic wartime love story. The lady led her to all the census archives of previous town residents from the past 100 years and directed her to some websites that held even more information about Evansville residents.
This is perfect! Maureen thought as she flipped through the archives box from the decade 50 years ago and pulled out the list of town residents. Stanley’s last name begins with an E so… she searched, drawing her finger down the list. With each E last name, she checked the first name, and reading each name would cause her heart to skip a beat. She knew there was a possibility that there’d be multiple Stanleys with an E last name, so she had a pen and paper ready to write down each name that could possibly be her Grandmother’s Stanley.
Her search was quickly met with its first result as once her finger came to the last name Edwards, there was a first name of Stanley right next to one of them. Grinning brightly, she whispered, “Yes!” and wrote the name down. Next she found an 'Everton, Stanley' and that was the only other Stanley with an E last name. With both names on the paper she turned to the websites she was directed to to get even more information on these two men that the census couldn’t provide.
“Okay Stanley Edwards,” she said while typing, “you’re first.” What she found - that was related to her case - was that this Stanley had been an Evansville resident since the 5th grade and was drafted into the war at 18. “Bingo!” she about shouted out. But her excitement went down a notch as Stanley Everton very well could’ve been drafted also and that would complicate her search a bit.
“Stanley Everton,” she read aloud, “born in Evansville in…” her eyes widened. He was born at the tail end of the previous century, which would explain why he was not shown as getting drafted into the war. He was too old! There was a death date included for him that was about 20 years after the war ended. “Well,” she said, “that’s definitely not my Grandmother’s Stanley so...Stanley Edwards it is!” She held up her fists and let out an excited squeal.
For some reason the name seemed to resonate with her…
Lost in her first victory for a bit, a more serious expression wore upon her face as something dawned on her.
There was no death date for Stanley Edwards.
She gasped! If Stanley died during the war, technically he was still a resident of Evansville, so they would’ve recorded his death date in their online archives, just as they did with Stanley Everton.
“So...either Stanley died in another city, or” she said through a fallen jaw, “he’s still alive!”
The keyboard keys clicked faster and louder as Maureen continued to frantically search online.
After suspecting that Stanley may still be alive, she went back to the census archive boxes and searched through the years following the one where she first found his name. He was still listed as a town resident after the war ended - which dispelled the thought that he was killed in the war - but the year following the year the war ended...he was not on the resident list.
That’s when she turned back to the computer.
“Ok, so obviously he moved away,” she said, “but WHERE?” It could be anywhere in the world and now her search had just gone to a whole new level. The Internet was her only hope now, it seemed, and she could feel her brow perspire as hundreds of Stanley Edwards turned up in hundreds of different cities; some dead and some not. “Ugh!” she cried, nearly slamming her forehead onto the keyboard. “HOW am I going to find out which one of these Stanleys is THE Stanley!”
“Oh sweetie, don’t hurt yourself there,” the kind lady from before addressed Maureen. “You know, something you may want to do is head over to the nursing home and find out if any of the folks there might’ve known your Stanley and see what information they might have.”
Maureen’s head shot up. “Oh my goodness you’re right! That’s brilliant!”
“Oh well, thank you,” the lady blushed.
“No seriously,” Maureen went on, throwing her coat over her shoulders. “There are so many logical courses of action that I just don’t think of when I’m on an investigative high like this so, thank you!” She bolted for the exit doors.
“You’re very welcome my dear,” the lady said, then sighed. “Bless her heart.”
It was just about 5 pm and Maureen hoped the nursing home would still be open to visitors. She wasn’t exactly sure how she was going to approach a bunch of complete strangers about this, but she knew an idea would come to her in the moment. She was on a roll and nothing was going to stop her now!
The guy at the front desk told her many of the residents were in the cafeteria eating dinner, so it was the perfect time to approach people and have a friendly chat. Maureen honestly felt a little nervous and uneasy in doing so. She’d never been in a nursing home, it’s a place her Grandma wanted to avoid at all costs, and it was very nice, but there was this air of uneasiness to it and she could understand why most people don’t want to be there; old and young. Standing up straight she stared into the cafeteria through the doorways for a few minutes trying to muster up the courage to go in.
Once within, a few folks took notice of her presence and all she could do was awkwardly smile. There’s so many of them in here, she thought, I don’t have time to chat with all of them. Nor do I have the courage to. I’ve gotta narrow this down somehow. She looked around and saw a piano in the far corner of the room and next to it, a microphone. The lightbulb came on.
She couldn’t believe what she was about to do, and hoped it wouldn’t get her in trouble, but she turned on the microphone and said, “Hello. May I have your attention please?”
Most everyone in the room turned their heads toward her, while a small few who were hard of hearing or not completely in a state of awareness ignored her.
“Hi, umm…” Maureen began, her voice shaking a bit. “My name is Maureen Young and...I’m trying to find out about a person from my family’s history,” she gulped. “Do any of you here know a man, or have known, by the name of Stanley Edwards? He was an Evansville resident a little over 50 years ago. Anyone?”
Some folks continued to stare at her, blinking often, while others just shook their heads. Then in the middle of the room a very elderly man, accompanied by who Maureen gathered to be his son, slowly raised his hand. “Stanley Edwards you say?” he asked in the loudest tone he could muster.
“Yes sir,” Maureen replied.
“Yes...I knew him.”
Maureen smiled as she came over and took a seat at the table, once given permission, with the man and his son. She happened to notice the son shake his head a bit and do a slight face-palm and she wasn’t sure why.
“The name’s Joseph,” the elderly man introduced to Maureen with his hand outstretched.
Maureen shook it. “It’s nice to meet you Joseph. So,” she began with her elbows on the table and her fingers laced together, “You knew a Stanley Edwards who used to live here many years ago?”
Joseph nodded. “We were friends.”
“Were you pretty close?”
“I think so,” he chuckled a bit.
Then his son chimed in. “I’m sorry Miss, but I don’t think you’re going to get much helpful information out of him. He has Alzheimers and...it’s pretty bad,” he gravely said.
Maureen frowned. “Oh...I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s alright,” he said, “I just thought you should know.”
“Hey Brett!” Joseph somewhat interrupted. “Who is this lovely lady dining with us today?”
Brett then shot Maureen a look as if to say, “See,” and shrugged.
Oh boy...Maureen thought, hoping this wasn’t a lost cause. But what other option did she have? “So Joseph,” she started, “I’m Maureen and you were just about to tell me about your friendship with Stanley Edwards.”
“Oh Stanley YES!” he cried out with excitement, but then frowned, staring at the faraway wall. “Stanley...he was gone for so long…”
Maureen’s eyes narrowed a bit as she studied his face. “Because he was in the war?” she asked.
Joseph nodded, looking down at the table.
“He didn’t die in the war?” she asked, just for clarification.
“No,” he replied, “but almost.” Then he turned to his son. “Why can’t I remember how he almost died?” His son hushed him saying it was okay.
“When Stanley came home from the war,” Maureen pressed on, “it appears he moved away. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” Joseph replied, still not meeting her gaze. “He was my best friend. I begged him not to go. He really didn't have to, but...”
Maureen was just about to ask him why when the poor man broke out into tears and slammed his fist onto the table amidst his son’s consoling.
“If there’s something you really want to find out,” the son frankly said to Maureen, “ask it now before he goes mute.”
Maureen’s heart began to break for these two men. Oh what hardships they both had to endure and she couldn’t even imagine…
Instinctively, she gently took Joseph’s hand and his shoulders seemed to shake less. “I’m really sorry your best friend moved away all those years ago,” she said, “that's always really hard. But maybe I can find him if you can tell me where he moved to?”
The man sniffed. “Which friend?”
"Stanley Edwards,” she replied, slowly and clearly. “After the war, where did he move to?”
It took the man a minute as he wiped away some tears. “Brighton,” was his reply.
Maureen smiled. Brighton was the capital city and it was only two hours away! She prayed Joseph’s fading memory served him right.
“Is that all you needed?” The son asked her.
“Yes,” Maureen replied, even though she greatly wished to ask more. “Thank you Joseph for this information. It was a pleasure talking to you.”
“You too Maureen,” Joseph seemed to pipe up. “It’s been a long time…”
Maureen and the son shot a wide eyed glance at each other and grinned. “Indeed,” she felt to reply.
“That Englishman better be treating you right,” Joseph said in a firm tone.
Huh? Maureen thought.
“Okaaay dad,” Brett said, placing a hand on his father's shoulder. “Maureen needs to go now and you need to finish your dinner.” He gestured at Maureen with his head saying that she could take her leave.
Maureen lipped “thank you” and stood up to leave.
“Brighton,” she heard Joseph say to his son as she left the cafeteria. “Did I ever tell you about my best friend Stanley, the war hero, who moved there?”
“Yes you did dad…”
Maureen couldn’t help chuckling a little bit as she stepped out of the building into the darkness of the night. Not that she was poking fun at Joseph, on the contrary, she found him to be a cute and charming old man. And she was eternally grateful for his small bit of information that opened up the door to that previous inevitable dead end.
PoppySims Archive
InnaLisa Pose Archive
Devolution of Sims - a once customisable open world sandbox which has become a DLC Party catalog in a shoebox
I ♡ Pudding
Thank you @Alleenmens . I agree.
Funny thing is I was going for a more "plain Jane" look with her, but she turned out prettier and...plain Jane's can be beautiful too.
That it does @KevinL5275
@Pary this one is for you.
Enjoy my friends.
❄Chapter 3❄
Early that next morning, Maureen hit the computer to do some more searching and then phoned her mom about all that she discovered in the past 24 hours.
“Stanley may still be alive!” she excitedly concluded.
“What!?” came the reply.
“Yeah! You understood all that I just told you right?”
“Well, yes but--”
“And I found his only known address in Brighton. So I’m going to head over there today and if he’s still alive, visit with him to get the whole story! Doesn’t that sound great?”
“No,” her mother frankly answered. “Maureen think about what you’re attempting to do?” she sighed. “Say he is still alive. You’re going to make a frail, 70 something year old man dig up 50 years worth of hurt over Grandma. If he loved her as much as it sounds like he did, not marrying her is probably something he never got over. Do you really think it’s a good idea to--”
“I know mom, but I HAVE to know what happened between them!” she nearly whined. “Stanley sounded like the perfect guy! I mean, no offense to Grandpa or anything. If he tells me what happened then maybe I could explain to him why Grandma did what she did because I know her so well!”
“No,” her mother said again, shaking her head. “No good will come of this Maureen, I feel such a pit in my stomach thinking about it.” She expelled a giant sigh. “I know you’re curious honey, but maybe you should just try to find Grandma’s old journals to get the answers you seek instead of doing this.”
The thought had crossed Maureen’s mind earlier, but she honestly didn’t know where her Grandma’s old journals were. The only place she could think they would be is somewhere deep in the cottage attic and there’s no WAY she was heading up into that dark and spider infested space! Finding and talking to Stanley was the easier, and more preferable, thing to do! Plus she just had to meet the man.
“Mom...I’m doing this,” she calmly declared. “It’s not just because of my curiosity it’s,” she paused, “I can’t really explain it. I feel like this is something I’m supposed to do...like there’s a reason for it. Why else would that old card turn up NOW at this point in time? And I dunno if it’s Grandma’s spirit or God trying to tell me something it’s just...I have to do this. I have to go to Brighton and find Stanley Edwards. It just feels right.”
Maureen’s mom scratched her head and once again surrendered to her daughter’s tenacious spirit. She certainly couldn’t argue with those kinds of feelings. “Alright honey...and what if Stanley is dead?”
“Then,” she sighed, “I guess I’ll take to Grandma’s old journals. Not without bug bombing that attic first!”
Her mom chuckled.
I could try talking to Joseph again too, Maureen thought. He clearly knows more since Grandpa was the Englishman he was referring to. But would he remember everything correctly?
“I just don’t like the idea of you going over there alone,” her mom said, interrupting her thoughts.
“Mom, I’ll be fine,” she assured.
“Just be careful and...make sure you’re carrying pepper spray or a gun or something.”
“MOM!”
Most Evansville folks would’ve called Maureen crazy for travelling two hours to the big city just to meet a complete stranger who may or may not still be alive, but she wouldn’t have even cared! This was a mystery that hit too close to home and she would not rest until it was solved!
After making arrangements with her mom to come over and feed Maya while she was gone, she snuggled and kissed her wonderful feline companion and then went on her way.
In the car, she drummed her thumbs on the steering wheel while rocking out to music on the radio, especially when good songs came on like, “Life is a Highway.”
“Woo!” she cheered along with the song. “This is gonna be a great day! I can feel it!” Tiny rock pebbles crash landed onto the road, kicked up from behind the car wheels as she hastily made her way to the big city of Brighton.
Stanley’s home was located in one of the suburbs of the city, near the railroad tracks, and Maureen preferred that compared to finding a place to park in the city! It was darn near impossible sometimes. Plus she didn’t want to hear the rustle and bustle of city life in the background while in deep conversation with Stanley...if he was still alive and still living there.
Once she pulled up to the house, parking on the curb, her heart started beating rapidly as the nervousness finally kicked in over the decision she made. And it wasn’t just over the fact of meeting her Grandmother’s long lost lover, it was with how run down the house looked. Add in the fading light from an early sunset and some fog and the place would look like a haunted house! Overgrown bushes, combined with a few of those “weed trees” as her father liked to call them - Elms - outlined the whole front of the covered porch, obscuring a couple of windows and beams. Crispy fall leaves of brown, red, and yellow dotted the porch landing and rustled a bit in the gentle wind. The screen door had a big rip at the base of it and the entire off-white exterior paint on the house was chipping. Numerous shingles were missing all around the two dormers on the greenish grayish roof and Maureen could only assume the green tint was patches of algae or lichen. The air around the house suggested it’d been vacant for years. But when she took notice of a rather new, expensive car in the driveway, Interesting, she thought, her spirits lifted a bit.
Gripping the wheel, she drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out while closing her eyes and whispering to herself, “You can do this Maureen. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Just tell him the honest truth as to why you are here. He can’t argue with a curious granddaughter, especially one as charming as yourself,” she smirked and then chuckled. A little humor always helped to dispel the nervousness. “Alright!” she breathed loudly and stepped out of the car.
As she made her way up the creaky deck stairs leading to the door, she could hear what sounded like someone sweeping from within.
She figured the screen door would make all kinds of noise if she opened it to knock, that always made her feel uncomfortable, so she just firmly knocked on the edge of it instead.
The sweeping stopped and her heart pounded faster as she heard footsteps coming toward the door. She gulped.
A man opened the door...but not an old man like she fully expected. This man was probably around the same age as her, maybe a hair bit older, and an extremely attractive one at that! Maureen tried not to gape at his beautifully sculpted face with those bright hazel eyes that stood out over the blackness of his short, spike-tipped hair and fair skin. It didn’t help that he had an excellent physique and was wearing a rather revealing tank top above a pair of faded jean shorts. His whole body glistened with sweat drops. She could’ve sworn she lost a breath there as she unknowingly rubbed at her collar bone.
“Can I help you?” the man asked her.
For the first time in a long time Maureen felt speechless. And naturally in a moment like this she would say something stupid. “Uhh...Stanley?”
“Huh?”
Geez! “I mean, is Stanley home?” she recovered. “Stanley Edwards?”
The man’s confused expression softened a bit. “No,” he replied. “He passed away almost three years ago.”
A surge of disappointment pierced Maureen’s spirit. “Oh…” Darn it! How did I miss an obituary!? “I’m sorry, I’m forgetting my manners,” she expressed, holding out her hand. “I’m Maureen Young. And you are?”
The man now stared at her in curiosity as he opened the screen door and took her hand. “Alan,” he simply replied.
He sure had a firm handshake and she enjoyed the feel of his soft skin. “It’s nice to meet you Alan. I’m sorry to disturb you like this. Did you, uh, happen to know Mr. Edwards?”
“Yeah,” he replied, “he is my Grandpa.”
Maureen nearly choked on her own spit. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he said again, continuing to gaze at her inquisitively. “How do you know my Grandpa?”
“Well…,” she began, rubbing at the back of her neck, “it’s kind of a long story.”
A smile played across Alan’s lips. “I got time,” he said, stepping out a bit to prop the screen door open with his butt and folded his arms, giving her his undivided attention. “I could use a break from fixing up this dump.”
He looked so handsome standing there like that that Maureen had to stop herself from staring, or even drooling, and going speechless again.
She started at the beginning; how the 50 year old Christmas card landed in her mailbox. She handed it to Alan to see as proof and read. Then she informed him that the Maureen the card was addressed to was her Grandmother, who had also passed away.
“My Grandma married my Grandpa two weeks after that card was written,” she went on, “which I thought was odd so I turned to my mom for some answers, but she’d never heard of a Stanley in her mom’s life. So that got me crazy curious to find out more about your Grandpa. I thought that maybe he died in the war and that’s why my Grandma moved on so quickly - strangely - but I discovered he didn’t so that’s why I came here looking for him for answers and,” she paused for a breath, “now he’s gone.” She lowered her head. “I just want to know what happened between them; why they didn’t get married. They were clearly in love. Something about it seems fishy.”
Alan glanced up at her from the card with an arched brow. “Fishy in what way?”
Uneasiness showered over Maureen as she said, “Oh I dunno. Like maybe my Grandma was in love with two men at the same time or, she was forbidden to marry your Grandpa or he her, and there’s no WAY she would’ve gotten pregnant out of wedlock! I’m pretty sure of that so--”
“Hold on,” Alan interrupted, flipping the card over and back again a couple of times studying it. “Is this thing legit?”
Maureen blinked a few times at his rather dumb question. “Yeah. It’s got both of our Grandparent’s names on there and it’s even got that vintage look and antique smell to it.”
He seemed to pay it no mind. “You sure this isn’t some kind of prank? Because how does a card get lost in the mail from THAT long ago?”
“I dunno,” she shrugged, “I’m just as surprised as you there. And it’s too accurate to be a prank.” Seriously!
“Are you sure this wasn’t from a different Stanley Edwards?”
“No,” she sighed. “I’ve done a bit of research and everything points to your Grandpa. He’s it.”
Alan glanced down at his watch. “Yeah, I dunno. I think you got the wrong Stanley,” he said, firmly handing the card back to her and closing the door. He reached into his pocket to fetch his car keys and stepped off the porch.
“What!?” Maureen expressed, now calling out to him as he headed for his car. “Your Grandpa lived in Evansville before he moved here right? I’M from Evansville! That’s where he and my Grandma met. Any of that ringing a bell?”
Alan stopped and turned toward her. “Look,” he started, “I don’t know much about my Grandpa’s life okay. He and I weren’t exactly close…
...But I do know that he was indeed in the war and happily married to my Grandma for 40 something years. They built a life here in Brighton, in this very house, and when she died...he kinda went downhill.” Maureen frowned. “They were inseparable; loyal to each other to the very end. If he had some other lover that he corresponded with while he was in the war I think I would’ve heard something about that during our many family reunions.”
“Right!?” Maureen exclaimed, stepping closer to the edge of the porch. “I had some deep conversations with my Grandma night after night before she died and she NEVER mentioned your Grandpa to me! Yet, here it is,” she said, holding the card in the air. “A card from another man who loved her so much he wanted to marry her. But that didn’t happen! That’s the thing, why? And why has their story been kept a secret in both of our families for all these years?”
Alan had to stop himself from saying what he really thought, it would’ve greatly insulted Maureen’s Grandmother. “Look,” he said, glancing at his watch again. “I don’t have time to concern myself with this. Nor do I care.”
Maureen gaped. Her impression of him just plummeted. “So you aren’t going to help me find out, even when I came all this way?” she asked. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”
“No,” he bluntly answered, after opening his car door. “Just let it go alright? It was a long time ago. I’m sure you have better things to do with your time.”
Then he slid into the car and shut the door. It didn’t take long for the engine to start roaring, the tires kicking up a cloud of dust toward Maureen’s face as she watched him speed off down the road.
Her blood boiled. “Oh the nerve of him!” she said through gritted teeth.
She huffed as she stepped off the porch toward her car. She wasn’t going to give up that easily! He was too good of a lead. “I swear there’s something he’s not telling me,” she said to herself, “or I nicked a sensitive spot and that’s why he was being a je'rk!” Then her feet came to a halt. There was a worn For Sale sign at the front of the lot and somehow she missed seeing it when she drove up. It had a Realtor’s name and contact information at the bottom.
A devious smile played across her lips.
I think you seriously underestimate how afraid of spiders she is though.
Yes, her Grandpa indeed hails from England.
However he seems like a je'rk huh?
Haha yes! Gotta get rid of all those bugs first. Where did you get Maureen's jeans from? She looks so cute in them
Aww Maya will certainly be missed. Ooh the glass jaw of red blossoms is pretty too. Would you happen to know the source? No worries if you can't find it or the jeans though. I now have "Life is a Highway" in my head thanks
The house looks gorgeous in all its run-down glory. Is that moss on the roof? I love little details like that. I wonder who owns the expensive car. How they can afford that but can't afford a gardener or something. I love her speech to herself. Yes you are charming Maureen go and own it!
Uh oh nerves of steel girl, you can do this. Oh hello there mysterious stranger
Seems like Alan doesn't want to know anything about the card. Even if he wasn't particularly close with his grandfather it can be a big shock. But it does sound like Stanley was able to move on and have a happy life. Oh wow just driving off like that is a bit of a jerk move. I would be seriously annoyed too. I think she got Alan's sensitive spot and that's why his mood did a full 360. Maureen isn't planning to buy the house is she? I did notice some sort of sign in one of the earlier pictures. I hope she's not getting too obsessed about this
Yup spiders and attics or crawl spaces...NOT my friend either.
I got her jeans from Lorandia sims. I'll try to find a link later for ya. (It's late here and I gotta get to bed soon) Remind me.
Edit: The vase with the red flowers, that's from a certain EP, I'm pretty sure. I'll have to double check when I'm back in game.
Yeah "Life is a Highway" has always been a great song.
Yeah he was a real je'rk to her, even if she honestly wasn't interested in his own family history. He could've been kinder about it.
Nah she's not buying the house.
Thanks for the comments.
@Alleenmens ^Indeed, he is smokin' HOT!
Thanks for commenting and I'm glad you're enjoying it.
Yep, there's gotta be something else, cuz he clammed up right away when she mentioned a kid out of wedlock. You sure know how to tease the story, Emily!!
And now we know who the guy is in your signature picture, same hair style.
The newer version of Life is a Highway by Rascal Flats is one of my favorite songs. Yes I do like the original, too.
I also like how you're responding to comments here as if you don't know what's going to happen next, either.
^Hee hee.
Thanks.