I opened Josephine’s next.
Dear Fiona,
My little sister, I miss you dearly. It’s as if the sun went behind a cloud here without you and Mama. I cannot wait until you return. Thinking of how long it will be gives me a panicky feeling in my stomach. Perhaps it’s having lost our mother when I was so young, but I hate the idea of anyone I love being too far away.
There’s not much news to report from here. The girls are keeping me busy. Phillip and Flynn are working hard to prepare the new ski run for next season. They’ve been out with the crews every day taking down trees. I fret until they return, worried something will happen to them. The saws terrify me.
Cymbeline is looking very well, so please don’t worry about her. I believe she’s been sneaking around, however, and doing those strange exercise routines when Viktor’s at work. One day when the girls and I were out for a walk to gather wildflowers, we saw her through the trees. She was in a plank position and was passing a bag full of rice from one hand to the other. Little Quinn was quite interested, unfortunately. We might have another one in the family.
I ran into Li outside the Johnsons’ shop the other day. He was walking with his head down, obviously thinking about something, and ran right into the new streetlamp. I happened to be near him when he did it and I’m embarrassed to say, burst out laughing. He laughed as well but not in a way that reflected in his eyes. He seemed thinner, too. I hope he’s not ill. Cymbeline said he’s suffering from the Fiona Blues. We both think he misses you.
Speaking of Li, I should not have reacted so negatively to your confession about your feelings for him. I hope you know it’s out of love, not any attempt to control you or sway you away from whatever it is that’s in your heart. Who we love is not always something we choose—perhaps it never is. We love who we love. I only wish he felt the same way. As someone who knows the sting of rejection, I am sympathetic as well as empathetic. I hope you meet someone soon, as I did, who takes away all thoughts of him. Unless, of course, he comes to his senses and realizes that you’re the best woman in the world.
I should close. I have to supervise dinner and bath times for the girls. You’re on my mind so often. I love you, little sister. Please take care and write me soon if you have time between your lessons and drinking all that French wine.
All my love,
Josephine
I stared, unfocused, at the letters in my lap. Thoughts jumbled around in my mind. Everything from Li to Cymbeline and what the boys had done to run the men out of town. Funny that Cym hadn’t mentioned that at all. What had they done? The image of Li running into the streetlamp worried me. Was he ill? What if something was wrong with his sight? Or what if Mrs. Wu was sick and he was in such a fretful state that he ran into the lamp?
Cymbeline and her exercises troubled me as well. Was she right or was her delicate condition truly that?
My thoughts returned to Li. The ache of missing him never ceased. I sighed and closed my eyes, and wave after wave of homesickness washed over me. I would be home again soon, I reminded myself. For now, I would take comfort in the letters from my beloved family.
I went to the desk to write return letters to each of them. I described as best I could the fun I was having, leaving the part about Mr. Basset out in the letters to my sisters and Mama. They would only worry, and there was nothing they could do to help anyway. When that was done, I thought about Li some more. Then I picked up the pen and wrote:
Dear Li…