“Do you know a Dave and Patricia? How about a William and something that starts with an E or an L? Enid? Louis? Do you know a William and Louis?”
My mom had been out to check the mail and came in with a stack of envelopes and some boxes. I opened the Christmas cards-- all from people I’d never heard of-- and she opened a save-the-date for her college room mate’s daughter’s wedding.
It seemed impossible because Margaret is a little girl. She’s enough younger than my brother and me that we called her Baby Maggie until . . well. . . now. But the truth is that she’s graduating from college this spring and getting married this summer and that that’s not so unusual.
It was a magnet.
One box was a coat my mom had ordered. The other was a surprise, addressed to my parents. Inside was a gift basket.
“Read the card,” my mom ordered, mouth corners twitching.
It was from Ted.
It was full of delicious things, and my mom told me the history of the company that made the basket itself, and I was thinking how I’m glad he cares enough to do something like this.
“I’m impressed,” my mom said during dinner, looking across the room at the still fully intact basket of treats.
I laughed, “That might say something about the quality of boys I’ve dated before.”