Weekly Expressions #1 ~TJ

It was the letter she had waited for, but dreaded to hold. She expected, but did not want. Anticipate, and despise.
Suzanne worked in a bakery on the southern end of Pittsburgh, making delicacies only dreamed of by the finer citizens of the city. Eddy, the manager big enough to clog a ship's cannon, hired her on the spot after tasting a cupcake from the Baker's Annual Blue Ribbon Contest, (of which, Suzanne won) but with the war starting and ingredients increasingly difficult to purchase, the annual contests drew to a sudden close. It was no matter, Suzanne found other ways to spend her time.
In fact, that was all she did with her time. Long days in the hot bakery, making pedestrians outside the window lust after the fruits of her labor. She had no place to call home; after her father died, her mother had to sell the family farm and estate to afford town housing in Pittsburgh roughly the size of their hayloft at the farm, shared by six families. But now the funds were depleted,  and Suzanne works the ovens while mother stays home and works the linens.

Then came the man.

The handsome young man with blond curls and blue eyes, and hands burned by many ovens, yet skilled to place a cherry precisely in the middle of a mint midget cake. Suzanne couldn't peel her eyes away, until she saw his gaze return. Her bashfulness then took the wheel and directed her back to her work. But for the next few weeks, they spoke more with their eyes than words could find meaning for.

On Monday, March 3rd, work was released early due to supplies depleting and no shipments until morning. Micheal approached Suzanne and offered to walk her home from the bakery.

On Sunday, June 2nd, they took each other's hand in marriage. Never was there a happier couple (nor poorer either) in all of Pennsylvania. They bought a cozy cottage outside of the city and had barely any land, but simply enough to start a small garden on the east side of the house. Micheal submitted the request of owning a dog, to which his wife declined.
Never in their dreams did they expect Micheal to be drafted and sent to war simply three months later.

Now, October 23rd, on the way back from the bakery with some cream muffins for mother's birthday in a bushel sack, Suzanne stopped at the rugged metal box they had the audacity to call a 'mailbox' and pulled out letters with one having a return address from the American Government. She decided to stop by the Franklin Statue in the park where Micheal proposed to her to sort the mail. Suzanne quickly did a calculation in her head to see if she had enough to pay for this month's taxes, for surely this is what this letter is for...

...she was wrong.

Micheal's not coming home.