letter to lucy




Clarie to Lucy: (subject) Him

Hello, sweet Lucy. It seems like forever since we last talked. I miss you terribly. How is life in London? And your boys, your mom? Spring has sprung in Virginia, it’s beautiful, but sigh, it’s Virginia. Lordy, I miss you. Kisses to everyone.

The sad news. David had a stroke. I’m very upset. I sent him a short email to tell him the latest on the novella and it bounced back with the message that he had a brain hemorrhage and could not be reached–but with his son’s email address if it were urgent. Philip-you remember Philip, yes? I mailed him immediately and carried on as much as one can carry on on paper. He was very sweet. He told me that it happened on the train to Paris and that David was doing okay, that the doctors think he will recover completely minus a small balance issue. He gave me the phone number at the rehab facility, but then, you know I don’t want to call overseas, but fuck it, I called anyway.  After many, many attempts, I finally got David. Oh my God, I was shaking. I had not talked to him in months! He sounded better than I expected, but I question the prognosis. He was not quite right–hopefully just a matter of time. He was humble. Can you imagine? David humbled. I think that’s what rattled me the most–the absence of arrogance. My heart ached as I was talking to him and my hands seemed suspended in air as if I were holding his face. I don’t know what to make of all this, but God help me, I want to see him. Crap. I won’t do anything rash, promise, but I’m twisted into an enormous knot and contemplating a visit to Europe. I don’t know what I’m saying. This is stupid. Lordy, I miss you.

I’ll keep you posted, dolly.  Everything else is fine, on hold, insignificant. More to come, I’m sure. xxx Claire


photo credit: qingdaonese.com


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