Chapter 3 A Mail Came In

• Elizabeth's POV
• "Ding dong," the doorbell rang. As I hastily made my way to the door, I wondered who would be visiting my family in such an early morning. When I opened the door, I met Francis, the Davidson's estate mailman. He donned a gray long-sleeved collared shirt beneath a sleeveless blue jacket. The jacket featured a small tag on the side indicating "Postal carrier." Black trousers adorned his legs, paired with sturdy black boots. Completing the look, he wore a blue cap that matched his jacket, concealing his black hair. He had a blue messenger bag around his right arm and a couple of documents on his left.
• "Good morning, ma," Francis greeted. "Your family has a mail from the Andrews." He retrieved the mail from his bag.
• "Good morning," I replied. "The Andrews? That's surprising."
• Francis handed over the mail to me and gave me a delivery receipt and a pen to sign. I inscribed my signature on the receipt and returned it to Francis.
• "That will be all for now," he said.
• "Please wait," I pleaded, rushing into the living room. When I returned, I gave him an envelope that had a couple of hundred dollar notes in it.
• He swallowed and said, "Ma'am, this is against the tenets of my job."
• "Will they find out if you and I don't tell them?"
• He shook his head and said, "Thank you so much." He returned to his scooter.
• Francis had been the mailman since I was in high school. He worked in the Davidson Postal Service and was tasked with the duty of delivering mail to every occupant in Davidson's Estate. Though his income had reduced these last few months due to my family's dwindling wealth, he persisted. My father had this habit of tipping him each time he would come to deliver mail to our doorstep, so I only emulated my father.
• I sealed the door and went back in with the mail. I sat in the dining area and opened the mail. John joined me in the dining area, retrieved a bottle of wine and a glass from the mini bar, and sat on a chair against the dining table. "We have a mail," he said, pouring the wine into his glass. "Who is it from?" He sipped his wine afterward.
• "It's from the Andrews," I answered, reading through the letter.
• Unsettled, John said, "You don't need to read that."
• "'We have arranged and decided that the wedding between you and Hannah will be held next week on Saturday, the 10th of November, in Saint Francis Xavier Church'," I read. "Wedding? John, what's going on?"
• John sipped his wine and said, "The only way to save our family; is what's going on!"
• "Save our family from what?"
• "Do you want to be broke, Elizabeth? Do you want to live like the peasants on the streets? Or don't you think this family has gotten enough already?" John questioned, loudly.
• "I'd rather be broke than see my brother indulge in something that will make him wallow in pain for life!"
• My mother, walking from the stairs, asked, "It's morning for God's sake. What in God's name is going on?"
• I turned to my mother and said, "Your only son is about to make the greatest mistake of his life. He has accepted Andrews's proposal to marry Hannah because he wants to save this family!"
• My mother reached the dining area and questioned, "Save this family? Who do you think you are? God?"
• "Dad's funeral is tomorrow, many of our businesses have folded, the estate has lost denizens, investors are leaving, and you're talking about God? Where has He been all this time?" John stood to his feet.
• "John, we don't hate that family, but you do. How do you want to spend the rest of your life with someone you don't love?" My mother asked.
• "I don't know, but I know life requires sacrifices," John stormed out of the dining.
• My mother sank onto a couch and cried, "Robert, what have you done?" She tried to wipe her tears with her handkerchief, but that didn't help.
• I gently patted my mother on the back and said, "It's going to be okay, Mom."
• On the day of my father's funeral, John was nowhere to be found. Everyone, including the Andrews and family friends, was in church, but the firstborn decided not to show up. I understood why he didn't show up - it would augment his pain. As the ceremony unfolded, tears welled up in the eyes of my mother and sniffles echoed in the hallowed hallway. Photographs displayed on a nearby table chronicled moments of joy, laughter, and shared experiences. My father's casket stood opened, revealing the handsome old man in a well-tailored black suit.
• My mother was invited to give her eulogy. She climbed the podium and began, "He was my husband, my best friend, and my business partner. I don't know how to put my words, but I know that his death has left an emotional scar in my heart. One that I will hold till I meet him in paradise." She sobbed and left.
• Following the eulogies by my and family friends, the congregation filed out, forming a line that led to the waiting cars outside. Umbrellas opened against the threat of the rain as the procession made its way to the cemetery.
• When we got to the cemetery, the priest recited Ecclesiastes chapter 3. And when my father's casket was put in the grave, my mother took a shovel and poured some sand into the grave. I did the same, and that was when I caught sight of my brother, staring from afar. Even amongst the array of black dresses, the tears on his face were so evident.
• At the end of everything, I felt a soft touch on my shoulders. It was Hannah. She looked at me and hugged me. "Everything will be okay, Elizabeth," she said, letting me go of her embrace.
• "Thanks for coming, Hannah," I expressed.
• "It's the least I can do," she took her leave.
• As much as I had always wanted Hannah and my brother to get married, I never wanted it to be under such circumstances. I wanted both of them to do it willingly, but it seemed my pr ayer wasn't going to get answered.