A matter of weeks ago -- around three -- Ms. Hawkes found herself at the sort of structure one would never expect to find a Silver Fang in. The outside is rough, the interior simple. They had hors d'oeuvres from chilled platters until Lola couldn't deal with the Fancy anymore and excused herself.
A week and a half ago, give or take, Ms. Hawkes received at the homestead -- or her post office of choice, wherever she receives her mail -- a delivery of crusty-chewy and fluffy-airy breads, small jars of apple and pumpkin butters, some smoked meats and aged cheeses, and a note.
The paper and penmanship are both fine. The seal is in wax the color of lapis. The initials A, S, M are stacked atop one another to the left of a much larger C in the monogram that imprints that seal. Lola has seen that monogram on a double-walled tumblr with a screw-on lid and straw that mimics the appearance of a to-go cup, sipped from at a warmoot by one Ms. Avery Chase.
Plus: how many fucking people do you know who are going to send you a hand-selected assortment of things like bread and pumpkin butter with a wax-sealed note, Lola? Really.
--
The note reads: Ms. Hawkes,
I must apologize for overstepping my bounds with you in conversation when you came calling to my pack's retreat earlier this month. Where I should have held my tongue out of respect for a guest in my territory and in light of our only brief acquaintance, I instead implied to you that correction was needed on your part. This was not my place, and it is my sincere hope that you do not think less of me for a moment's heedless pique.
It was my true pleasure to entertain you for an evening and I hope it is an engagement we may repeat in the future. Please accept these gifts of apology not as payment for forgiveness, but as the tokens of neighborly goodwill they are intended to be.
Sincerely,
Avery S. M. Chase
Lola Hawkes
Every week or so, if the weather was abiding, Lola would make a trip into Littleton for a sweep of basic needs, gasoline, and to check her post. She'd received the package the day after it reached her box, thankfully the timing lined up on that. When she got home and opened it, Lola puzzled over the wax seal and then the letter each individually. Hector had busted out the meats and cheeses for tasting and the rest had been stashed away in the kitchen.
The next day -- this would be, two days after the package was delivered, Avery would find a letter as well. Lola hadn't bothered with paying postage or anything of that sort-- instead, she drove up to the entrance onto the packhouse property. If there was a mailbox, then the letter in a simple envelope was delivered. If not, then it was stapled in a ziplock bag to a tree or post that's visible from the turnoff.
However the letter reaches Avery, comes on a piece of journal paper that was folded into the envelope. It's written in simple black ink, and the handwriting is legible but unimpressive. It reads:
Avery Chase,
Thank you for the letter and apology. I wasn't too offended-- you would have known if that was the case.
I don't have food to share as a gift. Not to say I don't have food, just nothing that would be worth giving. But for the sake of neighborly trade, I can offer labor. Fences or roofs or things like that. -- Here there's the start of a word and a half, but it's thoroughly scribbled out. Whatever she was going to write, she very much changed her mind.
Regards,
Lola Hawkes
Avery Chase
There is a mailbox, simple and metal and inscribed solely with the address. It is far from the parking space, far from the house; one cannot see the house from where Lola (illegally!) tucks the letter into the mailbox.
When Avery gets it, she laughs to herself, charmed -- not by the notice that if Lola had been offended, Avery would have known, for this is hardly a charming statement -- by Lola's attempt to offer trade in labor. And by the scribbling. She finds that charming, too.
Another letter arrives. It takes longer for Lola to get this one. It is nearly Christmas, the Monday before in fact, and the moon wanes overhead towards a dim-skied holiday.
Ms. Hawkes,
Your acceptance and your offer are both deeply appreciated. Should I find myself in need or desire of such, I will certainly look to you for your expertise.
Sincerely,
Avery S. M. Chase
This letter, like the last one: fine paper. Deep blue seal.
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