Waiting for Contact

From the moment I handed off my letter to the Fedex man, the clock was ticking. I tracked the envelope obsessively, waiting for the moment that it was signed for at the mystery man's door. As soon as the signature appeared on my screen, I expected a call. Every hour that went by, I became more and more convinced that he would not call. Nevermind that it was delivered at 11AM on a Tuesday and it was possible he was at work, or shopping, or visiting friends, or doing any of the myriad of things that a person does in the course of a normal day when they are not expecting a life-changing package to arrive at their home.


Tuesday night came and went with no phone call. I began creating scenarios to explain the silence of the phone. The Fedex had been signed for by a woman that I had discovered through Googling was his wife. Maybe she had opened it, been shocked by what she saw and threw it away. Perhaps he had actually died recently. Maybe he was on a long vacation and wouldn't be back for weeks. What ifs filled my mind all day Tuesday, long into the night, as I thought of increasingly more complex scenarios to explain the lack of contact. The simple fact that the letter was quite unexpected and possibly jarring to him rarely entered into my mind.

Wednesday morning came and off to work I went, blurry-eyed, disappointed, but resigned to the fact that he wasn't going to call. This is a defense mechanism carefully honed over the years: accept the unfortunate "facts" early to minimize greater heartbreak. I went into a 9:00 AM meeting.

When I returned to my office at 10:15AM, my coworkers were animated, buzzing with excitement: HE CALLED FIFTEEN MINUTES AGO! exclaimed our office coordinator, who can see my calls on her digital readout. He hadn't left a message.

As I pondered whether to use the number I had for him or to wait for him to call back, my office phone rang, the digital display informing me it was indeed the call I was waiting for.

Again, time stood still as my heart beat loudly in my ears, my palms turned sweaty and my mouth went dry.

I picked up the phone. "This is Lisa Blinn, how can I help you?"