Sunday the 13th of April

My Dearest,

I awoke today with dread, caused partly (I should think) from our days apart. I cannot wait to see your smiling face again, to feel the comfort of your hand in mine. Alas I shall steady myself for the coming days of solitude, until I can prove myself to your father after making a name for myself in this brave new world that is America.

There is much that I miss (my mother's laugh, the swishing of Chester's tail as he sits by the door, your kisses, the lilacs, which must be enveloping your parent's house...) but food in this accursed realm is worse than I had heard. There is one small comfort I have found, though, a small Cafe that sits humbly in the local town. This Ceres Bakery makes my sorrow a little less hasty to the heart, my time away from you a little more bearable.

Why today they are making Spinach Feta Risotto Cakes with a fresh Cucumber and Cabbage salad.
I have had these before and they are very good.

They also have several soups each day. Soup, as you know, is the true measure of a cook, and they are generally outstanding. Why today, they have Red Lentil (a personal favorite), a Moroccan Vegetable Stew, and Caribbean Bisque. I wonder if Christopher is eating something like that as he lounges in the Bahamas, awaiting his inheritance. Maybe he'll choke on it...my apologies. Emotions run highest on these grey days.

I have begun work at the la office, spending most of my time there. I miss you so terribly, and know that we will be together soon. I think I will have the 10 million that I lost to your Uncle during that fateful darts match so, and then my moment of impulsive heroics (I'm winking over here) will be made whole and we can begin our life together.

All my love, forever and ever.

I do say, dearest, the food is good enough at the bakery, you might consider joining me in America. If we could escape your father's men, that is.