My front doorbell rang late in the afternoon. An uncommon occurrence when unexpected, as this was. I almost didn’t answer. No one drops by unannounced these days, especially on Saturday afternoon. I figured, probably some kid selling candy bars for the school trip or members of the Church of the Latter Day Saints hoping to save my vixen soul.
But I did go to the door, to find Liz, my dependable representative from the United States Postal Service, package in one hand, pen in the other.
“Hi, Georgia. Got a package you need to sign for,” she said.
“Wonder what it is,” I said as I signed.
