I was surprised to realize that I was already more invested in the idea of Dan Partridge than I'd realized.
Chapter Four
December 18
I watched for Dan all through the afternoon. Usually he stopped at my place between one and two p.m. But he didn't appear.
No package today? Did that mean my mystery man was done? Or perhaps today's package had gotten delayed. It was, after all, Christmas time. Maybe I'd get two packages tomorrow.
I forced my mind back to my editing. It was difficult. The disappointment lingered no matter how sternly I told myself I was being childish.
I was making dinner in the kitchen at six when I heard a truck out front. I hurried to the window. It was dark out, but the light outside the garage showed Dan strolling toward my front door with a small box.
I hurried to turn off the burner under the pan with fish. I waved my hand in the air to hide the aroma, walked quickly down the short hall to the front door, grabbed my mask, and looped it over my ears.
"Hey!" I said, opening the door. "I didn't think you were going to come today."
"I saved your package for last. I hope you don't mind." Dan's tone was apologetic as he held out the package.
He'd saved me for last? What did that mean?
Could that possibly mean that he wanted to be able to spend more time here? My palms were suddenly damp. "Oh. Um. Would you like to come in? Or... I guess we don't do that right now, do we?" My laugh sounded phony.
Dan answered me seriously. "I know you've probably been super careful about exposure. But I'm a delivery guy, so I'm more at risk. Not that I'm not careful. I am."
"I know you are. I mean, you're very conscientious. I appreciate that."
Since I'd moved here after COVID broke out, I'd never seen Dan without a mask. It suddenly struck me that I didn't even know what his face looked like. That gave me a little stab of sadness. What a world.
"I have to be conscientious." Dan said. "I have a lot of older people on my route, and I'd feel terrible if I got anyone sick. I get tested weekly. So far so good."
"You do? That's impressive." I was at a loss. Damn this stupid pandemic, that I couldn't even invite someone into my home. "Well.... I can open this here. If you're interested in today's mystery prize?"
"I sure am." Those crinkles around his eyes appeared and he leaned against the pillar again—the pillar that was rapidly becoming his pillar. "Yesterday's Swan Winery Merlot was for seven swans a-swimming. I have to see what your Mystery Man came up with for eight maids a-milking."
"Okay. Just a sec. I'll grab a knife."
I shoved the package back into his hands and went inside. My blood thrummed happily, a smile was on my face, and I felt like I was practically dancing on my feet. It was ridiculous how much Dan affected me, as if I were a teenager again. And he wasn't even the mysterious someone currently courting me with gifts. It was all so very unlike my normally staid and boring life.
I took the knife outside. He held the package in both hands while I cut the tape. This brought us in closer proximity than we'd ever been before. There was something in the solid bulk of him, in his thick brown UPS parka, that sent a thrill through me. I really liked the kindness in those brown eyes. Softness. Warmth. I wanted to reach out and lower that mask. I wanted to see the shape of his lips. He had stubble too, on his neck. I wanted to nuzzle it.
"You gonna open that?" Dan asked, glancing down at the box.
"Oh. Yes. Yes, I am." I dropped the knife to the cement porch and pulled back the flaps. I lifted the thing inside. It was a cellophane-wrapped wicker gift basket complete with green satin ribbon and bow. I held it out so we could both study it.
Nested under the cellophane were foil-wrapped cheeses--gouda, brie, camembert, swiss, cheddar, pepper jack, gruyere, and stilton.
"Eight maids a-milking," I said. "Guess it takes a lot of milk to make cheese."
"Do you like cheese?" Dan asked.
I gave him a hard look. "If you know of anyone who doesn't like cheese, introduce me to them, and I'll explain the error of their ways."
Dan's eyes crinkled. "Noted. It seems like Mystery Man is doing alright for himself then."
"For a cipher, he's killing it." I frowned, thinking again how odd it was that I had no idea who was sending these things. Eight gifts now, and I was still clueless.
"You'll have to try some of these tonight with that Swan Valley Merlot," Dan suggested, gently pushing the box back into my hands.
It was a casual comment. He didn't sound like he was inviting himself. Or even fishing. But it gave me certain ideas anyway. It would be nice not to enjoy those things alone. And Dan had saved my house for last.
"Are you done with work for the day?" I asked.
He glanced into my eyes, then away, as if unsure. "Yeah. I have to drop off the truck. But then I'm done. I started early this morning."
"Would you like to... to stick around for a few minutes? Maybe out on the back deck? I have lights out there, and it's not too cold. We could try the cheese and the wine."
My knees went a little weak. Hearing it out loud, it sounded way more presumptuous than I'd thought, inviting the UPS man to have cheese and wine. Was that like coming on to the plumber? Should I be wearing a sexy negligee like some bored housewife?
But Dan's eyes lit up. "I'd like that. But I shouldn't drink while I'm in uniform. And I'm driving the truck."
I swallowed down embarrassment. "That makes sense. Never mind. I--"
"But I could come back? After I drop the truck off and get changed. If you're open to that."
My belly did the flip flops again. "Sure That works."
"I could be back in an hour."
"Great. I'll see you then. Guess I don't need to give you my address. Ha ha." I joked, idiotically, and then my cheeks flamed. That was me. Mr. Suave. Mr. Professional Writer.
"Nope. I think I can figure out where you live." Dan winked at me and jogged to his truck. He drove off, as if he were in a hurry now.
Shit. Oh my God. Shit! Dan was coming over!
I went inside and proceeded to spin around in my kitchen like a malfunctioning wind-up toy.
He'd just be getting off work. He'd be hungry, but we hadn't mentioned dinner, and I didn't have enough fish for two. Hastily, I put the half-cooked fish into a Tupperware container along with the baked potato that had been in the microwave. I shoved them in the fridge.
Hors d’oeuvres! What did I have? I dug around in the pantry and found a box of crackers and a jar of olives. I quickly made up a plate along with the cheese and some grapes I had on hand. I opened the Swan Valley Merlot and pulled out a few bottles of beer. Dan seemed like a beer guy, didn't he? Why didn't I have more in the house?
I brushed my teeth, combed my overly long hair, and spent way too much time picking out a fleece cardigan and shirt.
Dan pulled up in a car. I couldn't see it well in the dark, but it looked like an older Subaru with a sports rack on top. I watched from the window as he went around the side of the house, slipping into the shadows. When I went out the sliding door to the deck, he was waiting, hands stuffed in the pockets of a tight pair of jeans. He wore hiking boots and a black parka--along with his ever-present black mask. He looked casual and perfectly delicious.