December 30th

Dear Mom,

If I were to re-choose a college to attend, someday after I get over the fact I skipped my finals, I might very well choose Mississippi State University.

Or maybe that's because Nova is here.

It's the strangest thing to me how we can skip whole years of seeing each other, but when I show up on her doorstep, in a planned way, we fall right back into our old friendship.

I even had the time to run out to her parent's place and have a nice chat with her mom, Katrina. There's something about people who have known you all your life seeing you in a completely new light.

I think Katrina was trying to process your death on a whole new level at the sight of me. One look at her and I wanted nothing more than for Darrah to be there too, so at least they'd have each other even if they can't have you.

She told me a few of your college stories, in much the same way Darrah had pulled out the photo albums, and I'm glad to hear them.

It broke my heart in a way when Nova's family moved from Colorado to Mississippi, but I think as hard as it was for me and Nova, it must have been harder for you and Katrina, after knowing each other for so many years, especially since Darrah had already gone her own way with Donovan.

I stayed for an afternoon talking to Katrina before Nova and I headed back into town. Before we made it all the way to her house snow began to drift down, obscuring the road in front of us.

It was so cozy, making tea and watching Audrey Hepburn movies from the comfort of our blanket fort while the snowflakes accumulated outside and the roads froze over. It was a wonderful excuse to stay over the New Year.

The last movie wound down around eleven o'clock, and we made sure there was ice on the champagne we'd picked up before snuggling under blankets in the fort.

Talking to Nova isn't like talking to anyone else I've met on this trip. I suppose there are memories we share with Ryker and the cousins, but Nova was the closest thing I had to a best friend growing up.

School together till her family left and then the odd letter we actually remembered to write.

It's truly incredible that we're still friends, but somehow it doesn't seem amazing when we're talking and there's a comfort level that doesn't exist outside of the blanket fort.

I told her about Jasper and her eyes lit up as she grilled me about every detail of our conversations. I even pulled the hexaflexagon out of the shoe box so she could examine it and she got a bit solemn as she read it.

She told me she's sorry about what happened to you and she's glad I had people like Jasper and Meg looking out for me. She didn't know I was traveling this whole time, which is my fault.

The strangest thing was the lack of pity in our conversation. She doesn't feel sorry for me having lost you. She is sad at the loss, but seems to see only the path forward. Not in an unkind way, but in a realistic way. It's kind of nice for someone to not use kid gloves around me. It reminds me of Meg, a bit.

When midnight struck we toasted the new year with our champagne before falling asleep in the fort.

It was worth the cricked neck to pretend we were kids again, adventuring in ways that adults just don't.

The next day we went to tour Waverley and drive through the streets lined by Antebellum mansions.

Nova says I need to come back and visit in May during what they call The Pilgrimage. Apparently most of the Civil War era homes are opened up to the public for tours and they have a candlelit tour of the Friendship Cemetery called “Tales of the Crypt”.

High school students are given the opportunity to study the history of one of the people buried in the cemetery and create a skit about their lives. It's a way to get college credits and be a part of the wonderful history of the town.

I'm really sad to be here at the wrong time for the Pilgrimage, but the Tales of the Crypt gives me a shiver down my spine. I'm not so quick to forget my reaction to the graveyard in Missouri.

Waverley made me almost forget about my disappointment at not seeing some of the other homes, Rosewood and Shadowlawn in particular. It has the most fantastic stories to go with it.

My favorite is the one about how they held a ball at Waverley during the war and in the middle of the ball they heard a gunshot, so the women all hunkered down and the men went out to find out if the Yankees were on them, but they couldn't find anything.

Finally, they came back to the house only to find that the sound had been one of the enormous mirrors in the ballroom cracking because a candle had been set too close to it.

Columbus is a fascinating town, if only because it was a hospital town during the war, so much of it has been preserved.

Nova took me to a little coffee shop on 5th street and we spent quite a bit of time there, chatting with the barista, drinking coffee, and watching the passersby.

I've decided to stay here an extra week. I don't have a good reason for it, since Nova will have to work, but there's something in the movement of this town that calls to me.

Maybe a week will get it out of my blood.

I love you,

Bo.