Chapters (37)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Epilogue
- Discover More
- About the Author
- Reading Group Guide
- Author Essay
- Discussion Questions
Tom found a new word to share with you—“bespoke.” So you can add that to your list, though if you use it in Brooklyn, people might look at you funny. It’s the British word for “handmade.” As in, “The scarves you made for Tom and me over Christmas were bespoke.” I tried to find words to rhyme with it, and though Tom initially teased me, his competitive side—silent but deadly—came out and he made some woefully inaccurate attempts. But, after putting our heads together and setting the ground rule that the most authentic rhyme would be dual syllabic, we arrived at a few: “awoke, provoke, revoke.” We challenge you to try all of those in a sentence!
Enclosed, you will find a birthday gift. “But you don’t know when my birthday is,” you will protest. And the lady doth be right. However, I looked at my calendar and I realized that we’ve been exchanging these letters for nearly half a year. Half a year—can you believe it? Anyway, I have either missed your birthday entirely, in which I apologize and sent this belatedly, or I am impressively early. I’ll hope for the latter.
It’s a photograph taken of John, Tom, and myself about two weeks before we lost John. Mrs. Brown borrowed a camera from the schoolteacher in Chilton Foliat, who had one as a matter of hobby. When she’d discovered John’s love for it, she asked him to take a picture of her and Mr. Brown for their fortieth wedding anniversary, as they’d never had one done together. Then she turned the camera on the three of us.
Not having the opportunity in this small town to develop the film, we were at the mercy of the schoolteacher to have them printed once he’d finished the roll, and we’ve only just now received them back.
This is my only copy, and to be honest, I was half tempted to keep it for myself. But not only is it in safer hands with you—because who knows what the next few months will bring for our sorry souls. Take good care of it for me. I have every intention of surviving this war and snatching it back from you when, at last, I get to return to home’s soil and meet you in person.