July 11 1979
Butler Boy, when will the baby stop crying!? She is three months old, what the hell has she got to be so depressed about? Sara is permanently exhausted, Maxwell is forever on edge. WHEN WILL MAGGIE START TO SLEEP?
I don't know how you cope. At least I get to leave of an evening. On that note, I heard Sara give you Sunday off. If you need a peaceful Oasis, mi Casa es su casa. I have whiskey and silence. Seriously, how are you not bleeding from the ears. That girl has got an impressive set of lungs on her.
C.C
July 11 '79
Are you my fairy godmother?
Seriously? Are you seriously serious? Yes! A hundred times yes. My goodness for a day away from that, admittedly adorable, foghorn. I decided to spend the day out roaming the city. But with it being so hot, it wasn't exactly a foolproof plan. But then you you witch, you come to my aid. Bless you.
But if you truly only have silence and whiskey (not that I'm knocking either) to offer me perhaps I should bring some food. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. My contribution to the day. The day of quiet. Peaceful, joyful, quiet.
I'M SO EXCITED,
Niles
Ps: you do own an oven right? Only you eat all your meals here. So I thought I should check.
July 12 1979
Yes, dust mop. I have an oven. How else do you think this witch cooked up Hansel and Gretel?
You're lucky we are friends, otherwise I might take offence at the nicknames you give me. And here I am offering you sanctuary. It's only Thursday, I could always revoke my invitation busboy. Remember that!
C.C
July 12 '79
My darling, most beautiful, bestest friend in the entire whole wide world.
You wouldn't do that to little old me. Not you, Babcock. You're too kind and funny and caring and wonderful etc.
Let me know what you want me to make for Sunday open all the fixings.
I know you have lunch with your mother tomorrow, but don't let her stress you out. You're fabulous and you don't need her, and whatever man she's currently prancing around with, convincing you otherwise. Let it all just wash over you.
Sending a supportive hug via this letter, as I'm sure you'd thump me if I tried to give you a real one.
N
July 13 1979
Waffles? Maybe some fresh berries? Just sandwiches or something for lunch. Dinner, surprise me. Do you know me, probably better than anyone. I trust you. No pranks! Lunch with mother will be hell so be nice. I deserve a peaceful weekend too.
Wish me luck
C.C
Good luck, see you Sunday.
X N X
July 16 1979
Dammit, minute maid. What the hell did we drink? I can barely focus on the page. I'm so hung over. Is it too much to hope that the baby will be quiet today? I'm not sure I'll cope. The last thing I remember clearly was venting about mother. God, I wish she'd stop setting me up with every Tom Dick and Harry!
My head. I don't think I'll make it through the day. Keep the coffee pot full, hot and strong.
Xx C.C
July 16 '79
Witch,
Do you think you have a bad? Miss Margaret was in full voice when I arrived home. Mrs Sheffield was frazzled. Have you ever tried changing a diaper while still drunk? 100% would not recommend. If we are going to drink like that when we meet on time off will need a system.
Hope you enjoyed the coffee and aspirin I had on offer
X N X
July 25 1979
Dust buster am I right in thinking that you've been given a full weekend off in a few weeks time? Why don't you come over on the Saturday? That way we can enjoy a day with reckless abandon. And just deal with the hangover on the Sunday. If you promise not to pee on the floor or chew on the side table, I might let you crash on the couch. If your old back can take it that is. Let me know.
You know, it's strange to think that Sarah and I are both only 21. I really can't imagine being married with a kid right now. Don't get me wrong, she's doing great. Just for me, I mean. We were so similar his kids, it's strange how parallel road can fork off so completely yet still cross one another.
Life is strange
Xx C.C
July 25 '79
Really CC? Age jokes! I'm only 33. I'm not staggering around with one foot in the grave quite yet. Maybe I won't stay at yours. I'm not sure you deserve such a lovely houseguest as myself.
Speaking of age, isn't it your birthday on Thursday? What cake could you like? Whatever you fancy I'll make it. Look. See. I'm here being so nice to you, despite how beastly you are to me. I'll take my sainthood now. Thank you very much. Remind me, why are we friends again?
Oh and do remember that Mr Sheffield has a backers meeting tonight. So I'll bet good money that tomorrow he'll be in a pretty sour mood. He really ought to let you go to these things. You'd schmooze them in no time.
Oh well
X N X
Ps: mrs Sheffield is 22. Her birthday was last month remember. We drunk all the Rum after everyone left and then you passed out in my room, leaving me to the sofa in the living room.
July 26 1979
Your sainthood Butler boy? Really? Yesterday you put salt in my coffee. Again! And yes I do remember the party. Most of it anyway. And I remember you sleeping on the couch. I also remember how the next day you constantly complaining- about your back- as you had to sleep on the couch. But noooooooooo, you're not a grumpy old man!
Maxwell is going to be an absolute pill today, isn't he? I'm planning on escaping late morning(ish). That tiny coffee place, the one opposite the Korean deli that we found before, maybe you'll need some groceries and I might see you passing by. It'll be rude of me not to invite you to join me. No? Just a little time to breathe and have a proper catch up.
Hope to see you then
Xx C.C
