“It wasn’t leprechauns who stole my check,” snarled a forty-something woman wearing a faux fur jacket, ripped jeans and UGGs. “It should have been in my box and it’s not.”
“I’m sorry,” Molly said, using her diplomatic postal-worker voice. “We put out all the mail for today so it must be delayed.”
“Delayed into somebody’s pocket. Who puts the mail in the boxes?”
“I do, along with my coworkers,” Molly said.
She could feel her temper rising. As if she or any of the other employees had time to look through envelopes in search of something that might contain money. Mail had to be in all the post office boxes by 9:00 a.m. and it could be a rush to get that done and then be at the window to serve people.
“Somebody stole my check!”
“I can assure you, nobody took your check,” said Molly.
“Yeah? I want to talk to your supervisor.”
“Iamthe supervisor.”
“Well, then whoever’s in charge of you,” the woman snapped.
“If you have a complaint, you can go to the post office on National,” Molly said. She could think of another place to tell this woman where to go but that wouldn’t be professional.
For a moment she envisioned herself instantly growing another ten feet, leaning out the window and baring big fangs at the woman, pointing a bony finger with a foot long fingernail dripping blood at her and asking, “You got a problem with me, bitch?” Envisioned the woman shrinking to the size of a mushroom, saying in a tiny little bug voice, “No, I’m really sorry. You’re wonderful and I love your cookies.”
“Don’t think I won’t,” the woman said, and marched toward the stairs. She was starting down them just as Reggie was coming up. “Don’t give these people any business. They’re all crooks,” the woman snapped as she tromped past him.
“Whoa,” Reggie said as he walked up to Molly’s window. “Have you been raiding people’s envelopes again?”
She frowned and shook her head. “It’s not funny. Accusing me of stealing her check! As if I know who gets checks from whom. As if I have time to go looking!” She grabbed one of her cookies and stuffed half of it in her mouth. Sugar, her drug of choice. “And why would anyone steal a check they couldn’t cash, anyway?”
“People always need someone to blame when life’s not going right.” He pointed to the plate of cookies. “What are you giving us today? They sure look good.”
Reggie had such a way of blowing away gray clouds with only a simple sentence or two. Molly felt her scowl dissolving.
“Christmas cookies for the leprechauns. We had leftovers so I brought them here to share.”
“I like sharing,” Reggie said, and helped himself to one. He took a bite, chewed, swallowed. Smiled. “This is good stuff. The icing—what did you put in it? Not vanilla.”
“Reggie, how would you know about what to put in cookie icing?” she teased.
“Hey, I’ve done a little baking over the years. So, what’s the secret ingredient?”
“Rose water.”
“Rose water. I never would have guessed. It’s good,” he said, and took a second bite. Savored that one, too. “You sure know how to bake, Molly.”
It had been so long since a man had raved over her cooking. It felt good.
“Anytime you want help in the kitchen, I’m your man,” he said. He pulled out his wallet and removed a business card—simple, with only his name and phone number. “It might be against postal regulations for you to take people’s phone numbers, so I’ll just forget this and leave it behind...for someone to find,” he finished with a smile.
What would her mother have thought of Reggie Washington? He was older than her and probably not so well-off, if that scruffy old jacket was anything to judge by. But her mother had never been a good judge of character. And that was what was important when deciding what people to let into your life. As for the age difference, people could be friends at any age. She, Arianna, Mia and Sunny and Ava were all proof of that.
She picked up the card. “Someone might just find it,” she said, smiling back.
Oh, yes, someone might get an urge to bake and need a little help.
Reggie was the first customer in the door the next day, bringing a reindeer bobblehead. “I got to thinking. You might have found a certain card with a phone number but not known what to do with it. I think we should go out to dinner and talk about that.”
Her heart rolled over. Out to dinner with Reggie.
