True to her word, Peony didn’t have Violet begin her work in earnest that morning. Or in the afternoon, either. Instead, the two women ate bread, drank tea, and swapped stories until it was nearly dark. Of course, their conversation naturally drifted toward the war and the things they experienced, both in the air and on the ground.

Unsurprisingly, Peony was more interested in Violet’s time after the conflict, especially her time at the academy as Amy’s pretend handmaiden. Violet was happy to indulge her curiosity because it felt good to tell someone new. Someone with a similar experience that could perhaps provide a fresh perspective. Except, she didn’t tell her about Amy’s true identity, of course. That was a secret Violet needed to hold close to her chest to keep her friend, and Taylor, safe.

This wasn’t an interrogation though, and Peony happily shared details about her past as well. Mostly about the events that transpired after her plane was shot down and her time with Eloise. However, despite Peony’s calm, collected demeanor, Violet could tell there was still a deep, underlying pain when it came to talking about Sophia. So much so that Peony only spoke about their time growing up or at the beginning of the war. Nothing about what actually happened and why she wasn’t here anymore.

Eventually, their talk led to Violet’s new friends. President Hodgins, Cattleya, and the others. Even the Major at one point. It seemed like even if a soldier were lucky enough to make it through, they’d all lost someone. 

By the time dinner rolled around, Violet was successfully convinced to stay and enjoy a meal prepared by her host. Which turned out to be delicious due in no small part to the vegetables and fruit that came from Peony’s garden. Violet was similarly convinced to stay the night in the guest room despite being not far outside of the city. In the end, Peony was right, it was late and Violet would just be coming back in the morning anyway. It made her a little uncomfortable not receiving or writing a letter today, but she had at least explained this might happen. She’d simply have to write more replies when she returned, something she looked forward to immensely.

Once she finished her nighttime routine, and wished Peony a good night, Violet found herself lying in the small bed and staring up at the ceiling. Today’s discussion had certainly given her a lot to think about. Peony’s intentions were admirable but were their situations really the same? Amy was set to marry someone else, what good could come of telling her? It would only put a strain on their friendship, right? No matter if her feelings were the same or not. And they weren’t, right? Though, Violet had seen the expression on Peony’s face when she mentioned the sleeping arrangements, and the letters, and the kiss to the cheek…

A sigh escaped her lips then and she rolled over in exasperation. Only to roll back the other way a moment later. It was just like back in her bed. Empty. No doubt her sleep would be just as restless here but she had to try so she could get some work done tomorrow. Thankfully, she still had time to decide what to do. Isabella and her would no doubt continue to exchange letters and Violet could choose the right time, if she did at all.

After so many months with Amy, Violet wasn’t used to having someone beat her to waking up in the morning. When she opened her eyes, sunlight was barely beginning to peek in through the room’s one window and she heard the clink of dishes from beyond the door every so often. In addition to wonderful smells that were already making their way underneath the door. She didn’t linger now that she realized Peony was awake and soon dressed and passed through the door to greet her host.

“Good morning,” Violet said as soon as she stepped from her room.

“Good morning, Violet,” Peony responded after her eyes moved to find her guest, a wide smile already nestled on her lips. Subsequently, she indicated the table with an outstretched hand before moving around the counter. “Please, come have a seat. Did you sleep well?”

Violet returned the smile and moved to comply while nodding her head. “Yes. Thank you, again.” As she went, Violet couldn’t help but notice the amount of prep work that had already been accomplished this morning. An amount that indicated Peony had been up longer than just a few minutes. “Did you get some rest?”

“Some.” Once Peony reached a chair, her hands came to rest on the back and she waited for her guest to have a seat before continuing. “I have tea or coffee, which would you like?”

“Coffee, please.”

“Coming right up!”

Violet watched Peony move around the kitchen for a few minutes longer but soon grew uncomfortable just sitting there. “Miss Becker, would you like some help?”

Peony didn’t respond right away but her hands stilled in front of the coffee press, mid-preparation. “I think we’re well past ‘Miss Becker,’ don’t you think? Please, just call me Peony.”

“Very well, Peony.”

“Better,” the other woman said with a nod. “And yes, I could use some help. Let me see…can you cut up some bread for us and then butter it?”

“Of course.” Violet stood and moved to the counter before removing the tea towel that had been draped over what remained of the loaf from yesterday. A moment later she moved to fetch a knife before doing precisely what was asked.

“You know, it feels weird to be doing this again with someone else,” Peony commented after returning her attention to the coffee preparation.

“It does?”

“Yes, it reminds me of my time with Eli. We used to make breakfast every morning when we were together. Well, after I was healed enough to make a meaningful contribution.”

That sounded delightful and Violet couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to do the same with Amy. Or what her cooking even tasted like. If it was good enough for Taylor, certainly it would be good enough for Violet. Kids were picky eaters, right?

“What about Sophia, did you ever cook with her?”

Laughter erupted following the question and Peony emphasized her answer by shaking her head. “Oh no, no, no. Poor Sophia could burn water or would cover whatever food she held in grease. No, if there was ever cooking that needed to be done, that was on me. Knowing her, she probably would’ve preferred to create some contraption to do it for her.”

“She sounds very talented.”

“She was,” Peony agreed before the smile from the laughter slowly faded away. “And the world is worse off for her loss.” She sighed and then left the coffee to steep while picking some eggs from a basket by the stove. “I hated that her talents were used in that way, you know. To keep me flying, to keep me fighting . She had so much more to offer the world, Violet. And if she hadn’t been there, hadn’t been with me, she’d still be alive.”

Violet didn’t say anything at first and her heart once again filled with sorrow. However, she knew the folly of those words, especially if Sophia cared about Peony as much as it sounded like she did. “From what it sounds like, there was probably no other place she would rather be. You can’t blame yourself.” 

“Perhaps,” Peony shrugged and returned her attention to the task at hand. “I suppose all I can do now is remember her and do my best to learn from what she taught me.” 

Violet listened then as Peony told story after story, even staying at the counter once her task was complete. Not only did it make her job easier, but Violet also knew it helped people to get out what they needed to say, especially if they had been bottling it up. Writing letters was therapeutic, sure. However, sometimes people just needed someone to listen. Luckily, Violet could do both. Was good at doing both.

When breakfast was ready, they ate at the table and continued the conversation until Peony began to clear the dishes away. At that point, Violet knew it was time. “I’m going to start writing while you clean up. When you’re done, please come join me.”

“You got it.”

Violet nodded and then stood from her seat before returning to the guest bedroom. In it, she retrieved her bag and moved back to the table before starting to unpack everything. When the typewriter was set up, she took a seat and removed her gloves, and the sounds of cleaning were soon joined by the click-clack of keys. As well as the ding of line resets.

A draft of the first letter came easy enough, of the one to Sophia. Unfortunately, Violet had written too many letters of this kind following the war, and, coupled with Peony’s stories about the woman, it flowed easily enough. She didn’t doubt there would be edits, though. It was Peony’s letter, after all. 

Satisfied, Violet quickly moved on to the second but soon found herself struggling. She started strong enough but her fingers eventually came to rest on the table and her eyes stared down at the paper with a hint of frustration. 

“Something the matter?” Peony asked as she came up to the table and sat, apparently done with whatever chores needed her attention. 

“The second letter, the one to Eloise, it’s more…challenging. I’m having trouble finding your voice.”

“Huh, why do you think that is?” 

Violet didn’t answer right away and returned her eyes to the now silent typewriter. Why was she having so much difficulty? She had these feelings too, right? They were similar to what she felt for Amy. That should only enhance her understanding and make her better. Or were they now getting in the way?

“I think it’s because when I think of Eloise, I can’t help but think of Isabella. I’m having trouble separating my feelings from yours.”

“I see,” Peony became thoughtful for a moment before suddenly reaching out to grab a fresh piece of paper from off to the side. “I have an idea,” she said and held it up for Violet to see before sliding it across the table. “Don’t fight against your feelings.”

“I don’t understand,” Violet admitted as her eyes trailed the paper on its journey.

“Write your letter to Isabella right here, right now. Tell her of your love, Violet.”

Violet’s eyes opened wide at the suggestion, surprised that Peony would even suggest such a thing. “What? I can’t,” she quickly protested. For so many reasons beyond the fact that she was supposed to be working right now. “What if it drives her away or makes her hurt even more because we can’t be together?”

“What if this, what if that…so negative,” Peony shot back before crossing her arms and leaning on the table. “What if she loves you too? What if you can be together and this is only the spark?”

Before Violet could respond, Peony brought up a hand and waved it back and forth as if to dismiss the questions she’d just presented. “Don’t worry about all that, you don’t have to send it right now. Just…write it out. You’ll feel better right? That’s what you told me.”

Peony did have a point. That was precisely what Violet said when they were first discussing letters and it was advice she had given many of her clients over the years. She’d done as much with the Major too. So, why did she hesitate? Sure, it was partially because she was supposed to be working on Peony’s letter, not her own. However, there was more to it.

This plan ran firmly up against her conviction that every letter deserved to be delivered and read. Could she really write one and not send it? And, if she was being completely honest with herself, Violet wanted to send that letter, wanted to tell Amy how she felt. But that wasn’t fair to her, was it?

Peony must have sensed her hesitation because, after a few moments of silence, she reached out to put a hand atop Violet’s arm, causing the doll to look up from the paper. “You can do it. It’s right there on the tip of your tongue, I can see it on your face.” Her hand lifted a moment later and then gestured at the typewriter. “Tell her.” She smiled then and then made to rise from her seat once more.

“And just so I’m not gawking at you, I’m going to think about which bread we’ll have today.” Once she was up, Peony pushed her chair in and shrugged before turning and starting to walk toward the kitchen. “If that still doesn’t convince you, then think of it as part of your assignment. I don’t think you’ll be able to sort my feelings out until you sorted your own.”

Another good point. “Very well,” Violet replied before returning her attention to the blank paper. Was she really going to do this? Her fingers still didn’t move but she let herself feel what she had been holding back for so long. The full love that had grown and blossomed inside her. Until this point, Violet hadn’t even let herself ponder what she might say to Amy, not really. For fear it might send her down a path she couldn’t tread. But Peony was right , she could do this, should do this.

After that brief hesitation, Violet lowered her hands and started typing. It was unsteady at first and she had to pause a few times to make sure her train of thought was correct. However, it soon evolved into a steady stream of clicks and clacks. When she was done with her first draft, only a cursory review had her moving on to the second, and then a third. It was like a dam had broken inside her and the words poured out after she did her best to keep them at bay.