To Peter with Love — Beverley Andi

There was a time when computers weren't in every American home and laptops and cell phones were still a novelty. This, light hearted epistolary novel set in the early 1990s, is all about writing letters.



Amy Pacqua, 26, a stunning, single, doctoral student in museum studies, has just returned from a summer at the University of Cambridge, England to her Manhattan apartment. It is there she met the handsome, Peter Hobbs, 31, an archivist for the Fitzwilliam Museum and acting TA for her class. Though Peter is cordial he shows no particular interest in Amy. With the help of her sassy letters, explaining her madcap position as museum director, Peter is intrigued and a correspondence ensues. Amy soon finds he is as zany as she in his prose and a blossoming friendship develops.



A terrible accident leaves Peter in a coma severing the relationship. After weeks of trying to put a witty spin on her unanswered letters, Amy sends a farewell note. Peter's friend, finding Amy's letters in Peter's mailbox, telephones Amy explaining the situation. She immediately continues her droll musings with tenacity. Peter, even under medication, can laugh at Amy's prose. Moved to his family home for rehab, Peter has the luxury of a computer; they begin daily e-mail chats. Amy makes a surprise visit to England and love blooms.



Once back in Manhattan, Amy's attention is suddenly turned by her long-time friend, Luke Gilbert, a struggling painter, who pursues her. Amy soon becomes torn over whom she really loves.



Amy is strong and disciplined but she is also selfish and coy. She dallies with both men. Finally when she may lose both, she admits her love and the rest is happily-ever-after.

The following is a sample of their sassy e-mails:



Subject: It's a job.

Date: July 21, 1993

From: alpacqua@hotmail.com

To: pjhobbs@google.com.uk

Dearest,

What are my chances of getting a job in or around Cambridge? I know I should say I don't mind starting at the bottom. But I do very much mind starting at the bottom. I've been there, done that and got the tee shirt as they say. Any ideas?

AL

***

Subject: Re: It's a job.

Date: July 21, 1993

From: pjhobbs@google.com.uk

To: alpacqua@hotmail.com



Dear Amy,

Well, I did see a sign in the local pub; they need a wench to serve drinks. You'll just have to practice holding 10 pints of ale in your hands as you walk among eager college lads or wizened old coots who'll cat call. You won't have to worry about starting at the bottom and working your way up because there's no place to go. You'll just stay at the bottom. But hey, think of me, I'll get all the free ale I can drink. Oh, there is a perk. Since you've worked in an historical museum you'll enjoy this. You have to wear a costume, like the wenches of old.

Nice, eh?

PJH

***

Subject: Re: Re: It's a job.

Date: July 21, 1993

From: alpacqua@hotmail.com

To: pjhobbs@google.com.uk



Dear Peter,

The job sounds like a fantasy come true. I've always wanted to be barmaid in an English pub dressed in a sexy blouse with my boobs falling out. Yes, carrying pints of ale sloshing down the sides of the mugs as I wind my way through the noisy room full of smoke, testosterone, and whiskey stirs my soul. I can see myself wiping my dewy cheek with my apron when a rough hand slips under my skirt. Oh, the naughtiness, one can only imagine the adventures I would pursue, I mean encounter.

So who needs a job with a future? I could always say I'm doing research for a book, Mr. Hobbs.

Amy

***

Subject: Re: Re: Re: It's a job.

Date: July 21, 1993

From: pjhobbs@google.com.uk

To: alpacqua@hotmail.com



To my playful barmaid,

Humph, it is late and I had planned to go to sleep but your e-mail was so naughty. You, of course, did it deliberately to provoke me. How can I slumber peacefully after such errant descriptions? You, Miss Pacqua, are badly behaved making me imagine you in impish ways. You know it doesn't take much to excite me. It is wicked of you to make