I breathed in deeply, no longer smelling the roses. Chocolate filled the air. I carried the box into my kitchen, shoved it into the refrigerator and slammed the door. If I could have, I would have wrapped a steal chain around my fridge and added a combination lock. Instead, I drank down half a glass of water to curb my desire, then made a U-turn back to my bedroom, where I stood surveying the mess. Hopeful of gaining control over the chaos of too many new items to fit in my smallish bedroom, I set to work.
Thirty minutes later, when I’d only opened half of the jewelry boxes, tried on four pairs of shoes, and settled on the dress I wanted to wear for my date, the doorbell rang. Again. Was it Timothy? I looked even worse than I had before, but there was no getting around it. I shuffled to the apartment’s front, barefoot as a farmgirl, and opened the door.
Another delivery person. This one held a big basket of fruit. At a glance, I saw apples, oranges, pears, tangerines, bananas, a pile of red grapes, and, wow! Cherries! I was far more eager to accept that gift. I guess the man wasn’t expecting such a big smile. He gulped and said, “I’ve never see anyone as enthusiastic as you. You just made my day.”
I offered him a tip, as I had the others, but he declined, as they had. “The sender already gave me extra and said that I was not to take a penny from you, but thank you.”
I carried the basket into my kitchen and set it on the table. Then I practically fell into my chair as I sat there staring at all the fruit. I hadn’t noticed before when I’d looked, but there was even a small watermelon under the other goodies!
I quickly moved the fruit perishables into my fridge. When I tapped on the watermelon, I decided that it needed to go inside, too. It sounded ripe. I grabbed a cherry, enjoyed the flavor, then sat down with a single kiwi.
My roommate Sammy would never eat the fuzzy outer part of a kiwi. She insisted that the fruit had to be peeled. Cara argued that fruit peelings were the best part, providing fiber and extra vitamins, but she didn’t like kiwi. Me, I liked everything. And I didn’t peel the kiwi. I just munched on it as if it were an apple. Delicious.
A quick washup, a glance at the clock, and I knew I needed to hop into the shower immediately. I was just about to head that way when the doorbell rang again. I groaned. Enough was enough!
But it wasn’t a delivery person this time, well, not exactly. Simone was holding a hangar with a beautiful black, full-length wool coat. It was wrapped in a dry cleaner bag, but it still had a price tag on it, so I knew it was brand new.
“I just came over to see if you needed help getting ready,” she said, “Oh, and to bring you this. Timothy was afraid that you might not have a warm enough coat.”
He was right. I’d been meaning to spend a day shopping for a new one. The one I’d worn in past years was looking shaggy. But still, I hesitated