I'll Let You Go (76 page)

Read I'll Let You Go Online

Authors: Bruce Wagner

BOOK: I'll Let You Go
10.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

i went with my brother and sister went to the OLD disneyland. my brother is soooo cute!!! (my sister is too) they were on the roger rabbit. did you know a bunch of kids died on it? my friends at school say people die on it all the time, like once a week, but everyone is paid by the lawyers not to talk about it. toulouse—there is something i wanted to speak about to you but if you don't want to then it is ok. that time when we went to that weird tower and i acted in a certain way and you told me to stop. i have felt so bad about it and want you to know that is not the way i am. i really care about you and it hurts me to think that YOU might think i am someone else than i really am. i don't know what was wrong with me that day. i would like you to one day be my boyfriend and would not want you to think i was a *ho* even though i acted in a slutty way. i am so absolutely NOT!

and oh oh oh! my mother just came in the room and said she talked to YOUR mom and that we could see each other
SOON!!!!!!!!!!!!! (she said it will be *supervised*) that is, if you still want to after i brought up that old thing that happened in the tower. but anyway, if you still want to see me, i can't wait!!!!!!! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooooooo your ***MORE*** than friend, AM (“am” i in love?)

p.s. it is ok to say *foster parents* but you can just say parents too.

From: “Amaryllis”

To: “Toulouse Trotter”

Subject: sorry

dearest Toulouse, please forgive me if i discussed things that you would rather me not to bring up ever again. when i said that i wanted you to one day be my boyfriend, that can be in the very distant future if at all. i will wait until you feel it is the right time, if ever. until then, i will never talk about you being my boyfriend again. your FRIEND, i am and will always be … amaryllis

p.s. xxxxxxxxxoooooooo

p.s.s. xxoo

From: “Toulouse Trotter”

To: “Amaryllis”

Subject: No Subject

dear amar, (wasn't that your “moroccan” name?!) i am sorry i haven't written a full email in awhile but things got “hairy” because lucy read your last letter! she came over to see pullman and i wasn't home so she SNOOPED. she wouldn't even tell me what was wrong for about TWO HOURS later and then she totally freaked out. she always acted like she was my girlfriend but i don't feel that way toward her. (i don't love her the way that i like you.) i was mad at her for snooping but then i felt bad because she has been through so much and the fact that we have been emailing (you and i) and i haven't even told her about it not that it is any of her business. and that you said certain things that made her very JEALOUS …

i told trinnie about it and she and lucy had a “heart-to-heart”—she went with her to iceland! there was a party for that singer bjork who my mom is big friends with (bjork even met edward once). now I'M the one who is jealous! but they called from granppa's jet and mom says lucy is ok. trinnie can be great for lifting people's spirits like that—but when MOM goes down, there's no one who can do the same for her. she IS feeling better in general about her life, i think, because things are going well with my dad. he is making great progress and mom has been helping him decorate his house. (did i tell you he moved?) one night he even had my mom and diane keaton over for dinner. (she was in both of the “godfathers” and used to be my father's client.) have to go now but i think our moms have spoken about us going to magic mountain or disneyland?

From: “Amaryllis”

To: “Toulouse Trotter”

Subject: LOVE

to my dearest boyfriend toulouse, i LOVE LOVE LOVED disneyland! and when you kissed me behind the roger rabbit! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X
X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X
X X X
X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X
X X X
X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X
X X X
X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X
X X X
X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X
X X X
O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O
O O O
O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O
O O O
O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O
O O O
O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O
O O O
O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O
O O O
O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O
O O O
O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O
O O O
O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O
O O O
O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O
O O O

L   O   V   E
   L   O   V   E
L   O   V   E

amaryllis (am) (your little tiger)

From: “Amaryllis”

To: “Toulouse Trotter”

Subject: LITTLE TIGER LOVE

i miss pullie! he is sooooooooo cute! i like him to slobber on me! ! ! ! ! did you know there was a famous dog from paris who was made a saint by the people? but there is someone else i miss MUCH, MUCH more. and he is a boy. and that boy is YOU. i LOVE YOU

From: “Toulouse Trotter”

To: “Amaryllis”

Subject: No Subject

dear l.t., I had lots of fun too. my mom likes lani and gilles very much and said that the next time we see each other, my dad would like to even come. LOVE, tull (toulouse)

From: “Amaryllis” To: “Toulouse Trotter”[email protected]

Subject: LOVE

CHAPTER 48
Aftershocks

“I
didn't want to tell you,” said Lucy, one windswept August afternoon.

She had invited Toulouse to join her in the latest addition to what she called Stradella Fields, a charming Russian-style gazebo crammed with more pinecones and willow-work than Twig House itself, and not far from where Edward had been found in the wayward buggy. Afternoon tea was something new for her, as were many things English. For most of the summer, she'd affected an accent that could only be called a poignant variation on the real thing. Lucille Rose, as she insisted on being called, put a cool face on her passionate interest in the Royals (especially Lady Sarah Chatto), and was surprisingly fluent in the languages of, say, Damien Hirst or Hussein Chalayan. She devoured back issues of
Hello!
and once, when Epitacio drove them home from a visit with Toulouse's father, they detoured around the Beverly Hills Farmers' Market on Cañon Drive—seeing fruit sellers in their stalls, she turned up her nose and hissed, “Look at those yobbish costermongers!”

Settling back on the silk mohair club chair beside the
vert de mer
fireplace, Lucy took a sip from her cup, then scrunched her brow. “I didn't want to tell you, but it looks as though I'm going to be living in Europe.”

Toulouse nearly choked on his crumpet. “What do you mean?”

“England, mostly—that's where I'll be going to school.”

“But how?
Why
—”

“When Trinnie and I were in Iceland, we met the Hectares. As in
Lord
Hectare. They are bloody rich. I got on quite well with Amanda—she's their daughter. And they asked if I wanted to come stay with them.”

Other books

A Singing Star by Chloe Ryder
Death Comes to Kurland Hall by Catherine Lloyd
Sheikh's Castaway by Alexandra Sellers
Espía de Dios by Juan Gómez-Jurado
Blaze by Susan Johnson
A Real Pickle by Jessica Beck