“But do you always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?” —Pride & Prejudice
17
She remembers my dog’s name. I’m stoked—even if I’m trying not to read too much into these emails. But I can’t help it; I like Lettie. When she left me on the riverwalk, I thought that might be the last I saw of her. I cannot describe it. I’ve always considered the term broken heart—extreme hyperbole. I was stunned by the real physical pain I felt as she walked away. The dull ache that is now my constant companion. I’ve known Lettie for a few months. How is it possible that I miss her?
This has been a summer of uncomfortable self-reflection. I see myself more clearly, and it’s obvious I have room to improve. Lettie was wrong about some critical details, but she was also not wrong. I can be proud and self-absorbed. I can be smug and full of myself. I cringe whenever I think of how I flat out told Lettie she was wrong on our first date, followed by my little temper tantrum, leaving the party in a huff. And I do throw my money around to get my way. None of this is who I want to be.
I was too proud to let her believe the lies Whittaker told her. So, after talking it over with Georgie and getting her permission, I sent that email. I didn’t expect a reply, but I was secretly hoping. The day I received the chatty firefly email, I was so excited I wanted to book a flight to Iowa and see her. But before I did anything drastic, I called my sister.
“Chill! Liam. Chill.” Georgie chastised me. “Don’t visit her yet. Keep emailing. Take advantage of this time to get to know her.”
“I already know her. That’s why I like her.”
“Then giveherthe chance to get to know you. This is the time to take things slow. Won’t she be coming to Charlie’s wedding in December?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect, that gives you four months to charm her, to woo her.”
“But how?”
“Be yourself. And don’t try too hard.”
“I thought you said be myself.”
Georgie’s laugh rings through my phone. “That’s it exactly. Make fun of yourself; you weren’t always so serious.”
I sigh. I feel like I’ve become unbearably boring since my father’s death. “Okay, I’ll take your advice. Thanks for taking my call, Georgie.”
“Call me day or night.Especiallyfor stuff like this. I can’t say how chuffed I am to have the wunderkind asking the screwup for advice.”
“Don’t call yourself a screwup, Georgie. Not even joking.”
My sister smiles, her eyes softening with affection. Georgie and I are Facetiming. It’s night for me and early morning for her. “Trust me, Liam, if you take it slow and be yourself, you’ll win her over.”
***
Georgie is completely team Lettie, which Idon’t fully understand but appreciate. My mom has a grudge against Lettie. I tried to downplay what happened on the riverwalk. To protect Lettie, I didn’t tell my mom the whole story. I just said Lettie had to move because of a job. But it’s been hard to hide my dark mood. And I know my mom blames her.
“Any girl who doesn’t value you is not worth your time,” she has told me time and time again. I appreciate my mom’s blind loyalty, but I disagree, strongly. Lettie’s worth it.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Fitz Sends His Love
Lettie,
Fitz is feeling fabulous, especially since you remembered to ask after him. He saw three squirrels and a possum on his walk this morning and almost caught a rabbit. All in all, it has been a triumph of a day. However, he would like you to know that he has an itch behind his right ear that only you can scratch properly. He suggests you visit soon.
You might be interested to know that I attended a pool party at my aunt’s home. Your “ex” Colin was there. He asked about you. As well as what everything in the house costs.
I pause before typing the next line. I shake my head, recalling that party. Colin came up to me immediately, handing me a beer. He put his arm around me like we were old friends. “Dude, how are you? Word on the street is that things didn’t work out with that hot dish, Lettie.” Everything about this comment made me want to punch him. “Tough luck, bro. She played us both.” I couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
It’s scorching here. My mom has fled to Cornwall, where my sister has a cottage. The plan is to spend Christmas in England like we did last year. Yesterday, I went to a meeting to help plan the Pumpkin Hunt and Priscilla asked me for your vegan chili recipe.
Priscilla seemed to think Lettie and I were dating, and I didn’t feel the need to set her straight. She lamented losing her best employee and begged that I would use my influence to get her to move back to Sacramento. She even went so far as to suggest I ask Lettie to move in with me. Amusing as it was, Lettie would probably find that conversation insulting. I do not include it in my note, which is probably already too long. I write:
