Page 35 of Ardently Yours

I’m glad Bronnie's surgery went well. (That's an understatement.)

I didn’t show up expecting anything from you, and you don’t have to explain your actions to me. I couldn’t have been anywhere else.

I felt the same ache.

Bronnie is resting now, but don't forget to take care of yourself too. Worrying is exhausting.

I’m not offended that Bronnie named her hedgehog Ardy in the least. That’s hilarious. I made the critical error of telling the boys about it.

Gabriel has been singing, “Ardy, Ardy, Ardy. He’s super smelly farty,” ever since. (He’s referring to the hedgehog, I assure you. Not me. Never me.)

Henry told him he was acting undignified.

There’s always been a great deal of standing on our dignity in this family. I’ve never made a fart joke in my life. Mother would have been horrified.

Before knowing you, I’d have corrected Gabriel. But you would never react to a child’s joy in something so harmless by reminding him that “life is serious.” Life manages to do that on its own.

His song hurt no one, and my five-year-old was giggling. Why should I do something to make my child stop smiling for the sake of maintaining the McRae family dignity? I did remind him that these are jokes to make at home, not in public or at the dinner table.

No doubt, I’ll always have a bit of a “stick up my ass,” as you so lovingly refer to it.

I’m sending you a package with some of my shirts in the mail so you can smell me anytime you like. (That looks bizarre when I write it out. Somehow it seemed more normal in my head.)

Use them as pillowcases. Sleep in them. Do anything you want. Is a new set once a week enough?

I’m going to make a confession. When you gave me your scarf, I took it to a professional perfumer and had him create a copy of your scent so I could keep it smelling like you. That sounds a bit unhinged, which is why I never admitted to it before now. But there you go. I have a bottle of cucumber melon linen spray on my bedside table. It's not quite right because it's missing the blend of your chemistry with it, but it reminds me of you.

Also Wistfully, Arden

Two Months Later

December 18, 1997

Dear Arden,

I managed to squeak out another 4.0, but this one was by the skin of my teeth. The renovations on the theater were supposedly complete months ago, but as soon as the cast and crew realized how generous RealFreedom was going to be, they became relentless with new requests. Thank God they have to go through me to get them.

There are a couple people obsessed with the idea of installing a hydraulic lift in the basement under the stage. We don’t need it, and quite a few of us don’t want it. It’s a major construction issue since it’s a dirt floor basement, and it’s not something appropriate for the type of theater we have, anyway. Dealing with the situation has taken a chunk out of my study time. I’m beyond grateful that I was the one assigned as liaison, though. Ishudder to think of the mess we’d have if it had been someone else.

Sometimes I feel like a hockey goalie guarding a net.

You told me once that I was stuffing myself inside a cage out of fear. I tried to break free of it when I graduated from high school and ended up right back where I started. I’m finding my bravery again, but there are lines I can’t cross.

One of my favorite professors said she was going to recommend me to a firm out of New York City for an internship.

I’m devastated that I had to turn it down. But I can’t leave Blackwater for an internship for so many reasons.

One of them is that I won’t take Bronnie somewhere so far away. I rely on my family for their help. I know if something happens, even little things like me coming down with the flu, that I have people who love her who will step in to take care of her. She needs stability.

I found another internship in the next county over. It’s a tiny firm with only two architects. I hope I’m not destroying my career before it starts.

I know all the reasons why I need to stay, but some days it’s harder to accept than others. The truth is I may never leave central Pennsylvania, and I have to figure out how to be okay with that.

Love, Charlotte

Same Day

December 18, 1997

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