The UPS man arrived last week and I trotted to the back door to sign for it. Everyone loves the package man and I excitedly cut open the packing tape. Perhaps it was the warmer I ordered to keep the chickens' drinking water from freezing on cold nights. Or maybe it was a Christmas gift from our son in California whose generosity shows up each December. There has already been a package from him that I tucked in a closet.
But to my surprise it was a Mac Mini. Who bought that? We already have more than our share of computers around here, having given them to the two graduates last summer. Then I looked more closely at the address label. It was not my name, nor the name of anyone I know. But the address was correct.
I called John and texted Lukas. Lukas loves a good mystery and after I sent him a photo of the label probably researched the tracking number and other information. John had a protracted call with Apple who tried to figure out who it belonged to.
John arranged to have it picked up on Monday to be sent back to Apple. Lukas settled on a theory that had me nervous.
"Someone scammed a credit card but didn't want to have it delivered to their own house so they picked a random address. They will be watching for a package on your doorstep and plan to steal it." Shiver. Someone of low caliber is stalking me. I locked all the doors and wasted time peering out the windows for black sedans.
We had a plan that if a shady character knocked asking for his computer we would call the police and memorize his plates. But no one came.
As my heart rate gradually receded back to normal, I noticed something shiny. In all of our discussions it had never occurred to John to keep it. His integrity is too impeccable. He is a man of his word and this incident was one more occasion to prove that.
When I feel disgruntled about clothes on the floor or quiet dinners when no one can think of anything much to say, I can pull out this memory and feel its warmth.
I married a good man.
