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Archie and I walked through the side door, carrying all our shopping bags with us. He was in need of new snow boots, but somehow that turned into getting both of us some new clothes too. I dropped everything by the stairs before walking out the front door to gather the mail from the box. It was mostly bills. One from my grandma out in Ireland, a short letter written in her perfect Catholic school cursive. She wrote that she planned on visiting sometime soon, but who knows how soon that actually will be. I'll have to remember to call her later and see how she's doing.

Another letter was from Regina, inviting Archie to her sons' birthday parties...or party since it's only one. What a coincidence that their birthday was only two weeks away from Archie's. Of course, I wasn't completely positive about that since I kind of made up Archie's birthday. When he was dropped off, his mum said he was two months old, so kind of just decided his birthday was exactly two months before then. Over the years, I've convinced myself that I really can't be more than a day or two off-I mean he was still small when I got him, and February is a short month. There's only so many days he can be born on.

I sighed at that though, but didn't let myself think about it for too long.

I flipped through the rest of the mail, until I came across a different looking letter. Well, it wasn't really different looking, but it caught my attention for some reason. The envelope was whiter or something. Something about it made it different from the other mail. No return address...weird. I dropped the other mail in the counter and tore it open.

Dear Niall,

Please tell me how Archie is doing! It's been an unimaginable amount of time since I saw him last. I hope he's doing good. Did he like his big wheel?

That was it.

"Who the fuck is this?" I grumbled under my breath. Liv's suggestion from a while ago echoed in the deep dark corners of my memory but I quickly pushed them away. "Archie, what are you doing?" I called.

"Putting on my outfit."

"Let me see."

As I waited for him to come in the kitchen, I continued to frown down at the letter. I scanned the name at the bottom, M. Coleman, but it didn't help me any. No one I know knows anyone called M. Coleman, and I'm getting sick of this. What's with all the secrets? Why can't this person just put their full name, a return address, something that normal people put in letters?

"Look," Archie said. I looked up from the practically empty piece of paper, expecting to find him in something ridiculous, but that wasn't the case. His green shirt was a little crooked, and his tan pants weren't zipped, but he still managed to get dressed on his own.

"You look like Shaggy." I chuckled. "You're going to be breaking hearts soon kiddo."

"Heartbreaker."

I grinned, "Exactly."

"Take a picture of me!" He said excitedly. I used to always take pictures of him in clothes that other people bought him, just so they'd know he wore them at least once. And now I guess he just wanted his picture taken again.

"Alright." I crumbled the letter, from fucking M. Coleman, and threw it out, before picking my phone up off the counter and snapping a picture of him. "Who should I send it to?"

"Sucky Bucky!"

I laughed, "You can't call him that. It's mean."

He suddenly got serious, his face dropping, "He'll cry?"

"No, he won't cry. You just don't want to hurt his feelings right?" he nodded. "Make up a nice name to call him. Like...Lucky Bucky."

"Lucky Bucky," he repeated with a smile.

My Buddy Archie [1]Where stories live. Discover now