I have never been more excited to visit a post office before! Today was the day I’d get the letter, though. It had to be today. It had been three weeks since I’d sent my letter, and this was the longest I’d waited for an answer. Was something wrong across the pond? No, today I’d get a letter—

“James, wait up!” My younger sister, Nora, yelled from behind me.

I hit the brakes on my red bike as she pedaled her blue one level with mine.

“I can’t believe my school assigned pen pal has become your girlfriend!” Nora grumbled.

I felt my cheeks burn.

“I said before, she’s not my girlfriend. I mean, we haven’t even met.”

“Yet!” Nora interjected pointedly.

“We just like writing to each other,” I continued rather weakly.

“You only ever started writing to her because I dared you to,” Nora retorted with a mischievous grin. She then became very serious, as if a sudden thought had just hit her.

“It’s been a while since we heard from her last. Longer than usual. You don’t think something might’ve…” Nora’s voice trailed.

“Course not!” I responded as the two of us started pedaling down the street again. But the thought that something might’ve happened had been on my mind for days. Today was the day I’d get the letter, though. It had to be today!

A few minutes later, my sister and I walked through the door of the general store that doubled as a post office for our small town. The bell on the door rang out alerting a tall boy behind the counter to our presence. The boy’s name was Toby Dawkins, one year my senior in school. He just recently been hired by Mr. Davey, the owner, who at the moment was no where in sight. Nora and I made our way to the front counter, passing shelves stacked with victory coffee, a shipment of the newest food stamp booklets, and walls plastered with military recruiting posters.

“Where’s Mr. Davey?” I asked.

Toby frowned. “Well, how do you like that? Not even a — Hi, Toby — before you start asking questions?” Then he spotted my sister behind me. “Mr. Davey stepped out to deliver Widow Kennedy her groceries and left me in charge of the store,” Toby puffed himself up and gave a meaningful look at Nora, “Said I was responsible.”

Nora and I exchanged an exasperated expression.

“Has the mail come in yet?” questioned Nora.

“Yeah,” answered Toby, “Expecting something?”

“A letter from England. Mrs. Peters assigned us an English pen pal at the start of the school year,” Nora continued. She knew I wasn’t keen on asking Toby for the letter myself.

“Well, I can check, but the post from England has been awfully slow because—” Toby was going to say 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳, but broke off suddenly as he paled.

I remembered with a pang of guilt that Toby’s older brother was currently MIA, presumed dead. Even though I thought Toby was pompous and annoying most of the time, the war was real for him in a way I hoped I would never experience. Toby cleared his throat significantly and began to rummage through the bags of mail behind the counter.

“Here’s a letter for you, Josh, from…” Toby squinted at the return address, “Nony?”

My heart did a painful drum roll in my chest. She had never addressed the letter to me before. She had always addressed them to Nora and simply included a letter for me. I glanced at Nora. Her brows were furrowed in curiosity as Toby handed me the letter.

“What kind of name is Nony?” remarked Toby.

“It’s short for anonymous,” I answered, not caring at this point what Toby thought of me, “It’s a nickname her grandmother gave her because she’s so shy.”

I tore open the letter. Nora came up behind me in order to read over my shoulder. The letter read:

𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒥𝑜𝓈𝒽,

𝒜𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈, 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓁𝓎 𝒶𝓁𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝒷𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒜𝓂𝑒𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒶. 𝐼𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝐸𝓃𝑔𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓇, 𝓈𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝓊𝓃𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝒜𝓂𝑒𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒶. 𝑀𝓎 𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝒜𝓊𝓃𝓉 𝐸𝓁𝑒𝓃𝑜𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓈𝒷𝓊𝓇𝑔, 𝒫𝑒𝓃𝓃𝓈𝓎𝓁𝓋𝒶𝓃𝒾𝒶,𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎 𝒹𝑜. 𝒜𝓁𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒾𝒻𝒾𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉𝓇𝓎, 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝑒𝓍𝒸𝒾𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓅𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉𝓊𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝒷𝓁𝓎 𝓂𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃. 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓃𝒸𝓁𝓊𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝓎 𝒶𝓊𝓃𝓉'𝓈 𝒶𝒹𝒹𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑜𝓂 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝑔𝑒.

𝒫. 𝒮. 𝐼 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝐼 𝓉𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝓎 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁 𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒. 𝑀𝓎 𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝒥𝒶𝓃𝑒 𝒢𝓇𝑒𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓂.

“Jane,” Nora breathed behind me, “How beautiful!”

My eyes flicked to the address at the bottom of the page and smiled with excitement, “She’s going to be living right next to David!”

My best friend! After all the doom and dread of the war overshadowing this past summer, this turn of events was shaping up to be a chance at a fresh start.