Hello, sweeties! It’s your favorite Kit here! How are you this fine Sunday? It’s a gorgeous day, isn’t it? No, really, isn’t it?
I suppose you must be really angry at us right now.
OK, OK, that idea totally back-fired. Posting more? Hilarious! Therefore, we have fired Willow from Doll-lightful Days Inc. for her ridiculous idea. The nerve of her.
Except it’s actually a very good idea and we’re sorry and we are once again epic failures.
Well, at least you get a post now. Do enjoy!
It was the 14th of February. In this modern era, it was known as Valentine’s Day. A day to celebrate that “special someone” in your life, or an excuse to eat candy. When this time of the year swung round, Lady Bennett did neither. She had realized long ago that she was destined to be an old spinster (even though she was only in her twenties) and was on a strict diet, consisting of cups and cups of tea. She did, however, still believe in love, so settled with her faithful dog Molly in her favorite armchair to satisfy her passion for books… this afternoon’s read being a classic piece of historical literature. As the sun descended outside the windows of her library, she heard someone knock on the lion knocker on her front door. Startled – for she rarely received visitors – she cleared her throat. “Enter.”
She heard the front door creak open, and the sound of footsteps entering her library. All of a sudden, Molly rushed to the visitor in the door frame. She sighed, tearing her eyes away from her book, and –
“My dear Kit!” she exclaimed, dropping her book in surprise. “You haven’t aged a day.”
“Neither have you, Lady Bennett,” Kit replied politely.
“Oh, none of that nonsense. I know we didn’t quite “hit it off”, as you Americans say, but we are very old friends, and I expect nothing else but Willow. Now, you must tell me what has happened since we saw each other last.”
Kit hid a smile. “It’s really happening, Willow. I just got hired as a reporter for the town newspaper.”
“Goodness gracious! I congratulate you heartily! I’m not being interviewed now, am I?”
“Not yet! But beforehand, I’ve been doing odds and ends… I’m currently a postwoman. How about you?”
“I discovered that my aunt of late has left me an inheritance beyond my comprehension. That would explain the title, of course, and the large house, and the newspaper article, and the documentary they are filming of my life to its current point… but never mind that. Have you come to deliver something?”
“Yup,” Kit replied. “I’ve got a whole package for you!”
“A package?” Willow answered, stunned. “For me?”
“Open it!” Kit urged.
“Well, knock me over the head and crack my teapot!” Willow exclaimed. “They’re valentines!”
And indeed they were. Her old friends, Amber and Emma, had each sent her a caring note, along with two from the postwoman.
“I thought…” Willow’s voice quivered, and she stopped for a moment. “I thought they had forgotten.”
“Nonsense!” Kit shouted, applying Willow’s phrase. “They never would.”
“Oh, Kit, darling,” Willow said. “Thank you, kindly. And you – ” her voice took on a hint of anger – “must never disappear into the blue again! Don’t you dare move away to some horrid country, or just stay out of touch once more. Believe me, I have had quite a time trying to find you.”
“I’m terribly sorry, Willow,” replied Kit meekly. “I suppose we all haven’t kept in touch. But you are to read about me soon in the newspapers!”
“Excellent! Please, do pop in again very soon. I will put on a nice cuppa and we will have a proper chat. Shall we say next Wednesday?”
“Every Wednesday,” Kit promised as she departed, happy to finally find her friend again.
On the other side of town, Amber J. paced her chic apartment up and down. “I can’t just pack some cute trousers… I must find an ideal sundress!” she muttered to herself as she rummaged through her cupboards. “Oh, how will I ever fit all my outfits into this miniscule suitcase? I am not prepared to meet Rio this way!” she wailed. “They had better have some stylish outfits there… preferably on sale…and then I should buy a new ginormous suitcase there… maybe with my logo on it!” She stood still in the middle of her room and stared at her suitcase. “Well, this is as good as it’s gonna get,” she sighed as the buzzer sounded downstairs. “Um… come in?” she shouted into the intercom. “Probably Ashley coming to wish me bon voyage,” she murmured.
“Not Ashley, but a very old friend!” cried a voice from the corner. Amber looked up, startled.
“Kit, darling! Look at you!” she screamed. “Has it been ages, or what?”
“Oh, sweetie, where have you been? Don’t answer that; I know. My very own reporter!” Amber whispered in awe.
“Right next to the article about the up-and-coming fashion designer,” Kit teased.
“Oh, darling, that’s nothing,” Amber said, blushing. “Please, do sit down.”
“Now why on earth do you decide to appear all of a sudden? It’s not something I did, is it?”
“Yeah… about that…” Kit sighed. “I’m really sorry. One thing led to another, and now I’m a postwoman. I came to deliver these.” Kit handed Amber a thick envelope with a red stamp.
“Snail mail?!?!” Amber caught her breath. “Wow, I almost forgot paper existed!”
“And valentines from the gang themselves!” Amber crowed. “Magnifique!! Oh, Kit, how are they?”
“Lovely, as always,” Kit replied. “They really miss us.”
“We should totally hang out again. I sort of lost touch too.”
“Why not tomorrow?”
“Well, I’m going to Rio…”
“Darling, Kit, you must come again. You don’t easily forget best friends, you know! You aren’t getting out of my sight again! How about next Thursday? Oh no, sorry, meeting with Coco.”
“Yes, Chanel. How about the following Tuesday?”
“Every Tuesday,” Kit promised as she strolled out. “Magnefique,” she murmured to herself, smiling.
In the town’s woods, the only sound that could be heard was the graceful sound of violins coming from a stereo. Next to it, Emma Hawthorne sat stone-still… but her mind was moving a thousand miles a minute. “If the supporting character’s uncle perishes, what effects would that have on the protagonist? Should the antagonist really marry Mr. Fitzgerald? Or would she marry Sir Dance-a-Lot? And the age-old question: How big would the army be that comes to find me if I kill my protagonist off?” She sighed drearily. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Why don’t books write themselves?” She heard footfalls coming towards her and closed her eyes. “Not again. Peace and quiet is all I ask for, not more autograph-seekers, well-wishers, and especially no squirrels…”
“Hi, Emma,” Kit said timidly.
“Squirrels are just about the most annoying creatures on this fine earth… especially when they nest in your hair. Definitely no squirrels, not now, not ever… and preferably no other breathing things as well.”
“And how about very old friends?” asked Kit sneakily.
“Well, you don’t count, I suppose.” Then, “fellow writers must stick together,” Emma said furiously.
“Yeah, I know, I haven’t been ‘sticking’,” Kit admitted.
“No one has! No letters from anybody! Now what is the meaning of that?”
“I didn’t think you would be complaining about not enough letters. I hear you get plenty of fan mail,” Kit argued.
“The perks of being a best-selling author,” Emma added sarcastically.
“No one has forgotten anyone,” Kit stated, holding letters out to Emma. “Look see, I’m a postwoman now. Fresh on the job.”
“A postwoman!” Emma exclaimed. “Perfect profession for the antagonist’s uncle. Thanks, Kit.”
“Glad to help,” Kit muttered.
Emma sighed in relief. “No more fan mail!” She picked up the valentines and gasped. “Friend mail!” She giggled, a sound she rarely made. “Oh, lovely. I shall enjoy these very much, thank you.” She gave Kit a smile, and suddenly pulled her close.
“I miss you,” she said, and gave her a quick kiss. “No more disappearing, no more anything. You come and visit me often.”
“Can I bring my squirrels?” Kit asked playfully.
“I’m serious. I’m not leaving my best friend again.”
“I’ll be coming back… is Monday okay? Or is that book-signing day?” Kit started to walk off.
“Hmmmm, if Mary gets a new puppy, will that be a huge impact on her leprechaun?” Emma muttered.
“OK, bye now!” Kit shouted.
“Or will her leprechaun run away beforehand…”
Kit sighed. What a day! Being reunited with all her friends! She decided to throw a massive party when her article was published and invite all of them. Or maybe they could get together once a week? They should never have left each other, forgetting was too easy to do…
She suddenly realized that she had more letters to deliver.
“To Kit, to Kit Kittredge – say, they’re all for me!” she yelled. And there was one from each of her friends. Kit could have jumped for joy. “Apparently forgetting isn’t easy enough!” she shouted. She was very happy to have friends ❤