I'll Be Seeing You {RadioDust}

Chapter 35

Happy birthday, Isobel!

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Tuesday, July 26th, 1921
New Orleans
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Even at precisely seven thirty-five in the morning, the temperature was already warm. The air was humid, and the sun had only been up barely an hour.
Alastor sat on the front porch of his home, eyes closed as he took in the warm sun and fresh air, it being peacefully quiet at this time of the morning.
Alastor had work a little later on, yet had woken up early regardless to get breakfast ready for him and his mother. And now? He was waiting for the mail. Usually, he would have waited inside, but with the temperature, it was cooler outside at this hour.

The mail soon came early, as it usually did, the man standing from his seat on the porch and walking to the front of the house where the mailbox was.

"Mornin' Levesque. Got one from New York for y' today."
The mailman called as he stopped on his bicycle outside of the home, reaching into his bag and pulling out a few letters, carding through them before handing over two to Alastor.
"Have a good one."

Alastor stopped in his tracks at the mention of a letter coming from New York, taking a long breath before he took the letters with thanks, waving the mailman off, grip tightening on the letters.
"Anthony..."
Alastor muttered under his breath, turning quickly on his heels and sitting back down on his place on the porch, placing the other letter aside and opening the one from New York. He didn't know how to feel. It had been a long time since Anthony's last letter, he wondered what he had to say.

July 12, 1921

Dearest Alastor,

I'm sorry for not being able to write to you. A lot has happened here that has prevented me from replying. Before I start, you may notice my handwriting is different. That's because my sister, Maria, has to write for me.

Our mother's anniversary is when things took a turn. I won't go into detail in this edition as it would take at least five pages.

To summarize though, I got in trouble with my father and Molly thought it best to hide your last four letters from me.

The reason she's writing for me is that I took a pretty nasty beating and broke my hand. Even 3 months later and I still can't hold a pen without pain. You can imagine how that impacts my job too. I'm unable to paint and draw, so your gifts will have to wait a little longer as well, which I apologize for.

My sister does know about us now, and she claims to have known since I came home. I wouldn't stop talking about you and frankly, I don't stop thinking about you either. You've been on my mind constantly and I don't think that's going to stop any time soon.

To prove that it really is me and not some fraud making up an excuse, you and I met when I arrived in New Orleans on December 28 of 1920. We went to dinner on January 4 of 1921 where you introduced me to crawfish for the first time. It was fun but it was a bit of a mess when we started conversing, but it evened out once we got more comfortable with each other.

The day before I came home was my birthday and you treated me to a day out that began with breakfast, then you took me to your spot in the bayou where we spent the day just enjoying each other's company. I sketched out some more of your flowers and we finished off the day with looking up at the stars. On our way back, we saw what you called fireflies, I think, but I'm going to keep calling them floating earth stars because that's what they are. One even kissed me on the nose.

As I said, I still think about all of that frequently. I've even taken to rereading the first two letters I already had in my possession for comfort and carry the blue moon phlox with me everywhere in my breast pocket. I even brought it with me to the important meeting back in February. It's helped me a lot.