“Yes, it is. I’m glad you invited me.”

“You needed it. You would have been absolutely alone in that apartment of yours.”

“You sound like my mother.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Deanna reached across the table and picked up the letter again. As she perused it her eyebrows raised, but she said nothing. To Theresa, it looked as though the letter had triggered something in her memory.

“What is it?”

“i just wonder . . . ,” she said quietly.

“Wonder what?”

“Well, when I was inside, I got to thinking about this letter. I’m wondering if we should run this in your column this week.”

“What are you talking about?”

Deanna leaned across the table. “Just what I said—I think we should run this letter in your column this week. I’m sure other people would love to read it. It really is unusual. People need to read something like this every once in a while. And this is so touching. I can picture a hundred women cutting it out and taping it to their refrigerators so their husbands can see it when they get home from work.”

“We don’t even know who they are. Don’t you think we should get their permission first?”

“That’s just the point. We can’t. I can talk to the attorney at the paper, but I’m sure it’s legal. We won’t use their real names, and as long as we don’t take credit for writing it or divulge where it might be from, I’m sure there wouldn’t be a problem.”

“I know it’s probably legal, but I’m not sure if it’s right. I mean, this is a very personal letter. I’m not sure it should be spread around so that everyone can read it.”

“It’s a human interest story, Theresa. People love those sorts of things. Besides, there’s nothing in there that might be embarrassing to someone. This is a beautiful letter. And remember, this Garrett person sent it in a bottle in the ocean . He had to know it would wash up somewhere.”