Chapter 45
Darling Frederick,
You must think me neglectful, for I have allowed far too many of your letters to go unanswered. I promise it was not from a lack of desire but the happy chaos that Mina’s visit brought. It has been a joy to have her here, though I’ve scarcely had a quiet moment to put pen to paper.
Mina brought with her a host of watercolors and pencils, and we explored every corner of the village, capturing it all.
The wildflowers in the fields. The creek that runs through the meadow.
I’ve found it nearly impossible to keep up with my work, but it has been so lovely to indulge in my art.
I haven’t been able to replace my supplies since I left Haverford, and I have missed it dearly.
I am certain that Mr. Mersey will learn quickly: he sounds like a good lad with a quick wit.
I have no doubt that it is difficult to hand over tasks you’re so accustomed to doing—to say nothing of the patience it takes to watch a clerk struggle with something so simple—but as you said, the business is growing, and it is foolhardy to think you can manage it all on your own.
When you were describing his bumbling, it made me think of the Larkers.
I have spent many an afternoon at her home, watching Mrs. Larker guide her children through the chores to be done and how often they make a muddle of the whole thing.
It takes her a fraction of the time to do it properly, yet she must allow them the opportunity, else they never learn.
No doubt Mrs. Brinn had to exercise similar patience when she taught me.
Though it isn’t Mrs. Brinn any longer. I do not know if I will grow accustomed to calling her Mrs. Huntsman. How is she faring with her new husband and home?
I love you, Frederick. And I miss you so very much.
The work keeps me occupied as there is always something to mend or some errand to be run, but even in the noise of it all, you are there.
I catch myself wondering if you’ve eaten, if the shop is warm enough, and if you’ve remembered to rest. You are the thought that lingers in my mind day and night.
You would think that after so long apart, the distance might grow easier to bear, but it hasn’t. In the beginning, our reunion was so far off that I simply had to accept the time apart and force myself not to dwell on it. I could live with the waiting because there was nothing else to be done.
But with the time drawing close, I find my patience slipping from me. The more certain I am that the time no longer needs to be counted in years but months, the harder it becomes to endure the hours. Soon, I tell myself. Soon. And yet the word feels heavier every day.
All my love,
Thea
P.S. I was thrilled to learn about your new niece. Phoebe’s letter arrived not long after yours, and I am so relieved to hear that she is well and the babe is thriving. So many prayers have been answered.