“Both.”

I sighed. “No. You can’t choose both. One or the other.”

Terry looked away. “Fine. Uhh. . .Alison, then.”

“Really? I would have thought Heather for sure.”

“Alison’s got money. Besides, I said both.”

We stood there on the side of the road, waiting for the mail to arrive. We had done this every day for the last week, each day hoping that this day would be the day. We passed the time with small talk, but our minds were elsewhere.

The mail truck came around the corner. We watched with patience as it stopped at each of the four houses that preceeded ours on the route. We watched as the mailman (a stoic fellow named Barney) flipped flags, withdrew outgoing mail, and stuffed envelopes into the mouths of the boxes. Then, it was our turn.

“I think this is what you two have been waiting for,” he said.

He held out a cream envelope. There was a spider on the front of it, writ in red. Terry and I exchanged glances and took what we had been waiting for.

Barney drove away, and we opened our mail.