My Kind of Woman

42. Home

AN; Welcome to the final chapter. I'll be sad to let this one end, but this is where the story finishes. But I just wanna say thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with this book, and me too, from the very beginning. I didn't even think anyone was going to enjoy this or read it! But people have, and these have been some great months watching my work get feedback. I'm so happy people have been enjoying, honestly. I love writing so I'll be back on planning a new book soon, I have a few ideas but I'm not sure. If you give me a follow, I'll keep you updated on what I plan next if you're interested in that : )

Anyway, mushy thanks and self-promo over, enjoy the last chapter of 'My Kind Of Woman'...

We sent letters back and forth from then on. None as long as the first, but just reminders that we were each thinking of one another constantly. They kept me through each term, reminding me that she was okay, and I kept them in a blossom pink box that I slid under the bed at night. I went from sending her A4 letters to plain-backed postcards that I painted on for her, the first one I mailed in the spring of that same year.

To Mio,

It's getting warm here now. There is a big lake a few miles from the college that has been frozen over for a couple of months now. I was going to ice skate on it with friends, but I thought I probably shouldn't accidentally kill myself before I can see you again. Today, the lake is thawed. I'm visiting later, and I'll post this on my way back. I have bought a camera! So, now as well as paintings, I will attach photographs. I'll show you the lake, but only when I get the money to print them.

Missing you always,

Norah

To that, I attached a painting of her at the firework display, keeping only her on the frame of the page, having the colours mid-explosion right above her head. I included her fur-collared coat and the look of awe on her beautiful face as the sky fizzed and glowed.

Her reply came two weeks later, with a tiny heart detailed beside my name. I was very careful with the envelope that day, wanting to keep it and stick it on my wall. She always took care with her letters, making them neat and presentable, as once she had said she felt bad because she could not draw as well as I could. Sometimes she included little stick men with thin smiles on the blank side of her page, but I couldn't tell if they were supposed to be me or not.

Then her next letter was during summer, when I was once again on a lonely campus with my ancient fan and her words. That letter came after I had sent her a postcard with a painting of her lazing on the sand in our little cove, big sun hat shading her face

Dearest Norah,

All of your pictures make me miss you, but your last really made me tear up. I have had dreams about us being there. That day really did feel so easy, it was so comfortable being with you there. Do you ever think about that bathtub and that cove? If we could live anywhere, would you want to live there?

Eddie and I had a fight two nights ago, on the first hot day of the season. Jackie was away from home with a friend, and honestly, I had been worried. It all started because I would not kiss him. I think that embarrassed him because he barely argued about it, he just went and slept on the couch. It felt nice having the bed to myself, even if it was only for one night. I slept well, in a lonely way. I always slept well when I was with you, like a log. You cling like a limpet but it's lovely.

Do you have any plans for summer? I want to do a hiking trail, but I am not very athletic.

Yours Always,

Mio

That year my friends delayed their plans to go and visit family to make room for a new arrangement. We were going to go on a summer road trip, visiting families along the way, camping in the towns we stopped in. It was an idea all of us were overly excited for, especially myself when I learnt that Charlie lived very close to Twin - three towns away! We planned the trip two weeks before we would go, so I had time to mail Mio. Still, I bought a first-class sticker and sprinted out to the mailbox. My message was simple and written on the back of a painting I did of Mio driving, hands gripped on the steering wheel, hair pushed back gently by the wind. The picture held the same feeling of giddy euphoria I felt on our first night away. I told her in the postcard that I was coming past Twin, that I wanted to see her.