February 2, 1954.
My Dear Nate,
I’m sorry to hear that things aren’t going well in London. We wish that you were here with us every day, but we understand why you had to stay. It’s one of the many reasons why I love and respect you. Gabriel isn’t walking yet but he’s crawling and getting into things like crazy. He’s good, he’s settling in better than I had hoped. He really struggled the first few nights. He misses you. We all do. I wish that we could be there to help you, I know that Cash wishes he could help you.
Oh no. I’m sorry to hear that...is she alright? I’m assuming that he’s let you see her if you are looking for words of comfort. I wish that I could help more. I’m sure that part of her fear is being in the hands of your uncle...but i think just being there always helped me. And making sure that she knows that you care (since you clearly do) is always a good start. I’m sorry that I can’t be more help with this. If I were there, I could try to talk to her and make her realize what having children is like. It’s the most wonderful experience of my life. Gabriel is my everything, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You could try that with her? I’m relieved to hear that she’s alright. It sounds like you care about this woman.
Love,
Dahlia
P.S. Cash says thank you, he keeps complaining about American whiskey. Apparently it’s different. Who knew.









