pixiebelle

It wasn’t every day that a pigeon delivered a love letter to the wrong address, but Emily Baxter had never been one to waste a good opportunity. She didn’t think anything of it when she initially saw the pigeon, but the tiny envelope in it’s beak caught her attention. Being an animal lover, and because curiosity got the best of her, Emily walked slowly toward the window. When she got closer, the bird dropped the envelope and fluttered away in the wind. 

“What on earth?” she picked up the envelope.  Beatrice was written on the front of it. Not that Emily thought she would be getting letters delivered by pigeon, but she was slightly disappointed that it wasn’t addressed to her. 

It wasn’t properly sealed. Emily wondered if she should open it and read it. It felt weird to do that, but how could she make sure it got to the correct recipient if she didn’t read it? She slipped the paper from the envelope. 

Dearest Beatrice, 

It’s been years since I saw that beautiful smile of yours. Though, I guess in a way, I see it every day on the face of our son. He looks so much like you, it’s almost painful to look at him. I miss you, sweetheart. I feel like I’m just filling my days with nothingness, waiting to die, so that we can be together once more. Thirty years with you was not enough time. Even one hundred years wouldn’t have been enough time, not with you. You were my world. You were my everything. What I wouldn’t give to spend another afternoon at Jocelyn’s Pub, listening to you sing karaoke and watching all the men swoon over your voice. You were a gem, Bea. 

I pray that we will see each other again one day. 

Love, 

Arthur 

Emily’s cheeks were wet with fresh tears. 

Oh, to be loved like that. 

Emily tried to be grateful for the life she had. She had a nice, cozy home. A good job. A lot of friends. She was an independent woman who didn’t need a great love to feel complete, even if all her friends had been married off. Some of them more than once. Which served as a reminder that maybe she was better off staying single. Most marriages ended up in divorce anyway. 

Still, a love like Arthur and Beatrice’s seemed special and rare, something anyone would be lucky to experience. 

She put the letter back in the envelope. 

She didn’t know what to do with the letter. Throwing it away seemed heartless. 

Maybe she could return it to Arthur. He’d mentioned a pub, what was it called again? She opened the letter again and read it again. Jocelyn’s Pub. She pulled out her phone and Googled the name. It pulled up an address the next town over, a twenty minute drive at most. 

Good thing I have nothing else to do today, Emily thought to herself with a smile. She’d been yearning for an adventure for some time, something to do rather than endlessly scroll Facebook all evening. 

When she pulled into the pub’s driveway, her car was the only one there. It was the middle of the day, was the place even open? The sign out front advertised Shepherd’s Pie for a lunch special, so that looked promising. 

The door dinged with a tiny bell as she entered, and the old woman at the counter smiled at her. “Welcome, dearie. Haven’t seen your face around here before, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“Thank you. You don’t happen to be Jocelyn, do you?” 

“Sure am, what can I do for you?” 

Emily slid onto a barstool across from the woman. 

“Do you happen to know of a couple named Arthur and Beatrice?” 

The woman’s face fell. “Ah yes, Art and Bea, they were two of my favorite customers. Bea and her singing, and Art and his pigeons. They were quite the pair, those two.”  

“Pigeons? Did you say pigeons?” 

“Yes…Art was part of the local carrier pigeon foundation. Last I heard, they were defunct, no one really has much of an interest in that hobby these days. Why do you ask?” 

“A pigeon delivered this to me today.” Emily pulled out the letter and handed it to Jocelyn. “I’m trying to get it back to Arthur.” 

Jocelyn’s smile from earlier had fallen and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Art hasn’t been back here in years. I lost touch with him after awhile, he stopped responding to my letters. He was never one for the phone.” 

“Oh, do you know how I could reach him?” 

“I can give you the last address I had for him, but that was from years ago.” Jocelyn wrote down an address. 

Emily considered visiting in person, but decided that would be too weird. Besides, what if he no longer lived there? She went home and decided to write Art a good old-fashioned letter, including his letter to Bea with it. 

Dear Arthur, 

A funny thing happened today. A pigeon delivered this letter to my home, but clearly, it’s not meant for me. I wanted to return your letter and apologize for reading it. Beatrice sounds like a true gem, and I’m sorry for your loss. You two seemed to share something truly special. I got this address from Jocelyn at the pub, hopefully it’s still the right one, or at the very least the post office can still forward it to you. I want you to have your letter back and to tell you that your pigeon made my day by showing up on my window today. 

I hope you and your son are well. 

Sincerely,

Emily 

Since she didn’t have any pigeon to deliver the letter, she had to settle for the post office instead.  As the days went by, she couldn’t stop thinking of Art and Bea, wishing she knew more about their story. 

Then one day, she came home from work to find a pigeon at her window, another letter in its beak. As soon as Emily got close, the pigeon dropped it and flew away. 

This time, the envelope was addressed to her. She smiled as she opened it up and read the letter. 

Dear Emily, 

It has been years since anyone has written me. Which is my fault, I’m not that good at writing these days. I appreciate your letter, and for returning the letter I had written to Bea. Mirabelle, the last of my pigeons, must be getting restless, having not been put to work in years. She must have picked up on one of my old letters and took it upon herself to deliver it to someone. Looks like you were that lucky someone. 

Thank you for your kind words. Bea would have liked you, I’m sure of it. Speaking of Jocelyn, you brought back so many memories and I’m going to reach back out to her as well. It’s been nice hearing from you, Emily. 

Sincerely,

Arthur 

A tiny note scribbled at the bottom of the letter caught Emily’s eye. It said: Feel free to write back anytime, your letter put a smile on my face. 

Emily hurried inside and pulled out a sheet of paper and hastily started writing back to her new penpal. 

The letter continued for some time. She would always hurry back inside and write back to Arthur right away. Through the letters, she learned more and more about them. Every letter was a new love story dedicated to his beloved Bea. 

Emily learned about how they met in high school, they both worked at the same ice cream shop in town. Art auditioned for the musical just to be closer to her, but he was so off key that they asked him to do the lighting instead. 

Art also loved to talk about his pigeons, a hobby he picked up from his dad. In the early days of their relationship, he would send Beatrice love letters by pigeon so their parents wouldn’t catch them. 

Bea had always wanted kids, and the light of her life was their son, Nathan. But she was diagnosed with cancer only two years after his birth and passed away before he even started kindergarten. 

Art never talked about himself, outside of his pigeons, of course. Even when Emily asked questions about his well-being, he just diverted the conversation to talking about Bea instead. It was easy to do when conversing by letter, she couldn’t really push the issue much. 

Mirabelle’s appearance at her window was the highlight of Emily’s week, until one day, she didn’t show up. Emily waited another week, and still no sign of Mirabelle. She was starting to worry and considered driving over to the address Jocelyn had sent her, where she was sending the letters, but then Mirabelle showed back up again. 

“I was worried,” she said as she approached the bird. The pigeon dropped the envelope but didn’t fly away. Emily reached a hand out to the bird and Mirabelle let her touch her head. “Sweet girl, I’m glad to see you again.” 

She smiled as she read her name on the envelope, but that smile soon faltered when she realized there was another paper inside the envelope with the letter - an obituary. 

Arthur James Franklin passed away on October 12th, 2024 at the age of 67 years old, to join his beloved Beatrice Anne Franklin (nee Cooper). 

Emily’s hands were shaking as she turned to the letter enclosed. 

Dear Emily, 

This is Arthur’s son, Nate. Arthur passed away last week. I just wanted to let you know that your letters were the highlight of his days. He’d been hospitalized the last few months, struggling with his own battle with cancer. I know how much joy your letters brought to him because I was the one reading them to him every week, and I was the one writing his words to you. He loved telling me about my mother. Many of the stories I’d heard before, but knowing that dad was at the end of his life, it was nice to take that walk down memory lane with him. 

Dad didn’t want a traditional funeral, but I am hosting a celebration of life for him at Jocelyn’s Pub if you’d like to attend. It will be held on October 20th at 5 pm. There will be karaoke. 

Sincerely, 

Nathan

Emily clutched the letter to her chest as she cried for a man she had never even met. Mirabelle was still at her window, and Emily wondered if the bird knew that her owner was gone. “I hope Nate is taking good care of you.” Mirabelle cooed in response before flying home. 

*******

Emily showed up at the pub on the night of the celebration. She wasn’t sure what she was doing there, since she didn’t really know anything about Arthur. She’d only been talking to him for a few weeks. Still, her conversations with him had touched her soul and she felt obliged to show up and honor the man. 

The first thing she noticed was the pub was still almost as empty at the day she arrived the first time. Her heart sank at seeing how few people came to celebrate Art’s life. A man around her age was chatting with Jocelyn and turned his gaze toward her when she entered. He smiled, and for some reason, she knew that was the smile Art had talked about in his letters. It was a beautiful smile. 

She walked over to join them. 

“You must be the infamous Emily,” the man said, reaching out a hand. “I’m Art’s son, Nate.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Nate,” she said, once again looking around the room. 

“Yeah, I didn’t expect too many people. Sadly, most of dad’s old friends have passed on or are too sick to come tonight. One of the shortfalls of growing old, I suppose,” he said. “But the few remaining members of the courier pigeon society are still planning to come and pay their respects.” 

Emily could see the sadness in Nate’s eyes and wanted to change the subject. “I heard there was karaoke?” 

“Oh, are you a singer?” 

“Ehh, probably nothing like your mother, but I belonged to the choir in high school, and I like singing along to the radio from time to time.” 

Nate’s smile widened. “I’d love to hear you sing sometime, Emily. I bet you have a beautiful voice.” 

As the night went on, a few more people showed up and Emily did get up and sing. She caught Nate watching her the entire time. Her cheeks flushed as she left the stage. 

“Do you mind if I write you sometime, Emily?” Nate asked as they said their goodbyes. 

“As long as you send it by pigeon,” she teased. “I think I’ll miss Mirabelle otherwise.” 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said as they parted ways. 

The following week, Emily was returning home from work when she saw the familiar pigeon on her windowsill. Her insides felt warm and gooey for a second as she reached for the letter. Like last time,  the bird didn’t fly away right away, and Emily patted Mirabelle on the head. The pigeon cooed a few times before flying off in the distance. 

Emily opened the letter addressed to her. 

Dearest Emily, 

I hope you’re doing well. I haven’t stopped thinking of you since the night of my dad’s memorial. Your voice was beautiful, and I would love it if you joined me for karaoke night at Jocelyn’s in the future, I’d love to hear you sing again. 

Oh and good news, Mirabelle will be getting some company. Dad would be proud, but I have decided to take up his hobby and continue his legacy. After all, I’ve leard that good things can, indeed, come from pigeons. If you’d like to visit them sometime, you’re more than welcome. I think Mirabelle has taken a liking to you, and she’s not the only one. 

I hope to see you again soon. 

Love, 

Nate