Correspondance, November and December 1988

[ever_noteful]

The day after she met Dave Martyniuk, Meg sits staring at the single sheet of pale blue stationary on her desk.

What is she supposed to write? It was nice to meet you? That's not exactly going to ring true, in light of the way the meeting went.

After several more minutes, Meg picks up her pen and writes:

Dave

Comments

[ever_noteful]

"So," Olivia says, standing in the doorway to Meg's room and waving an envelope, "does Alain know you're getting letters from some boy in Toronto?"

"A boy in Toronto?" Meg says, puzzled.

Olivia looks at the envelope again. "Dave Marty-something. In Toronto."

"Martyniuk," Meg says. "Dave Martyniuk." For whom she cannot, by any stretch of the imagination, use the word boy. "He's a family friend."

Or at least that title will work for the purpose of getting the letter from Olivia, so she can read it and answer it.

Dave,

Thank you. I kind of start studying for my exams in September, so I'm in pretty good shape on that front, and excuses for breaks are always welcome. If you're going to be here anyway, I can probably find some time to meet you. (Though I have at least one professor who sort of seems to delight in throwing us new assignments from left field, so I can't make any promises.)

As for my schedule, I'm in Montreal until 19 December, and then we're spending Christmas in England with Kim this year. I'll be back in Ontario just before New Year's, and back in Montreal in early January. If any of that meshes with anything you have planned, please let me know.

Sincerely,
Meg

[oftheaxe]

One good thing about living alone: there's no one to make sarcastic comments about whom you might be receiving mail from.

There's also no one to remind you to take in the mail, but fortunately Dave is relatively conscientious about this on his own - though Meg's letter does sit at the bottom of a pile of the month's bills that have to be dealt with for a day or two before Dave gets around to sorting through the rest of the mail.

Meg,

- "Glad to hear you're in good shape," he is positive, will come off sounding either patronizing or snarky, or both.

You're welcome. A little extra luck never hurts, I guess - though it sounds like you probably won't need it. (There's always one, right?)

I'm going to be meeting a client in Quebec the second week of December, if you're free then. If not, don't worry about it. The thing about clients is that they tend to keep living in the place they're living in, so I'll probably be back soon.

Sincerely,
Dave

[ever_noteful]

Meg's reply goes out the morning after she gets his letter. (Which, all right, is the two days after it reached the apartment and spent forty-eight hours lost in amidst Carrie's notes.)

Dave,

No, a little extra luck never hurts at all.

The second week in December should be fine. When you know what day or days you'll be here, let me know. Maybe we can meet for coffee or something like that.

Low-key. And without obligating them to an entire meal if things go all haywire again.

I look forward to seeing you.

Meg