My wife and I bought our current house about a year ago. We live in a nice and quiet community where all the houses look similar to a small little detail to distinguish them from each other. For the most part, it seems to be a diverse community, with a Hispanic family on our right, a Nigerian family to our left, black family across from us, next to them is an interracial couple who also recently moved in with a Haitian husband and Asian wife and a few white families scattered around.
During the summer, children were playing outside during the day; but by night time, it gets dark and deadly quiet, compared to the city where we lived previously. As for our house, it's a nice warm and cozy two-story home with three bedrooms upstairs, dining and living rooms, kitchen and finished basement. It also has a driveway for four cars and a good size backyard.
After three months of living there, we had changed our address and were receiving our mail as well as the previous owners' mail. Since we did not have their contact information, we contacted our agent who gave us their home address. I did not feel comfortable going to a stranger's house and plus I felt they should pick it up since it was their fault for not changing their address in the first place. I had refused to bring the mail to them. Instead, I piled them in a bag hoping one day they come by for it.
A month later, a package came in with something that looked like it could be important inside. I left it with the bag of mail in the kitchen. Two days later, after the package was delivered, my wife was working late and I was home alone watching television, there was a faint knock on the door. I ignored it thinking the screen door wasn't closed all the way and the wind must have blown it opened and closed. Then I heard the bell rang. Maybe it was a knock, after all, I thought to myself.
As I walked to the door, I started to play out in my head how I would handle the likely solicitor. Should I play along or just let them know I was not interested and close the door? "Who is it?" I asked, in a demanding voice, before opening the door.
"Hi! It's Anita." A woman's voice said from behind the door.
Who the fuck is Anita? Wait, that name sounded familiar. Where do I know that name from? So, I proceeded to open the door. As I slowly opened the door, I noticed a pretty Asian woman standing there looking at me with a bright smile, wearing a blue raincoat with black slacks and black high heel sandals.
Before I could say anything, "hi, I'm Anita, I used to live here." That's when it hit me. She's the previous owner and she must be here for the mail.
"Oh, hi! How are you? Come on in," I held the door for her to come in. Instead, she stood outside holding the screen door open.
"My shoes are wet," she said, pointing to the hardwood floor. "Did you receive a package for me in the mail?"
"Yes! I did," I responded as I started walking to the kitchen to grab the bag and the package. She was still talking behind me, which I caught a couple of words here and there. She said she ordered something but instead of it going to her new address it came here as a habit from living here previously. I walked back with the items and handed them to her, as she continued explaining to me that she had changed her address, but they still sent it here. I told her she might have to go on the website and change her address there or at the post office which will then re-route her mail even if the old address is on it.
She proceeded to ask me about the house and if I liked it. I told her it was a nice home and I do like it. She told me that they took care of it and updated some things while they were living here. Then I told her that my wife and I are also doing some updates and painting to make it feel like our home. Since this was turning into an ongoing conversation, I, once again, offered her to come in from the rain.
"No, no. I have to get going," she thanked me, turned and walked toward her car. I stood there, still holding the screen door open, making sure she made it to her car safely. She got in her car, smiled and waved back at me before departed. I closed the door and went back to watching TV.
Even after that day, their mail was still coming to our address. It was now around the holidays and we had leftover boxes from opening presents. I grabbed one of them and started placing their mail in the box for her next time she came to pick it up. Our community did not have mailboxes outside of the houses. Instead, they had a community mailbox with multiple slots for each home. Ours was at the end of the street. Since it was out of sight and out of mind, I developed a system where I would pick it up every other day.
One evening, my wife and I were home eating dinner and watching television. We heard the bell rang and we both looked at each other like, who could this be? She wasn't expecting anybody and neither was I. She had picked up food on her way here, so we were not expecting a food delivery. Since she was closer, she got up to go check who it could be. I got up and followed her. "Who is it?" My wife asked.
"Hi, it's Anita. I'm here to pick up a package."
My wife recognized who it was right away and opened the door. "Oh hi. You're here for the mail. Come in?"
Anita opened the screen door and looked directly at me with a big smile on her face. "I'm sorry! Did I disturb you guys? I got a package that came in today." This time, her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she had on a winter coat, grey slacks and snow boots.
Unfortunately, today was not a mail day. I did not stop by to pick up the mail from the box. I told her and my wife handed her the box full of mail. Anita told us that it was an important package and that she had to have it right away. My wife suggested that she gave us her phone number and we would let her know when it arrived. She asked if she could borrow the mailbox key so she could check to see if it was delivered. I handed her the keys to go get it from the box. She went and came back with her package and our mail.
Both my wife and I tried to explain to her how to changed her address for situations like that not to happen again. The whole time my wife was talking to her, I noticed Anita never took her eyes off of me. There was a glint in her eyes. Our eyes met and I smiled at her, as she exclaimed to us that she had her address changed with the post office and on the sites; and couldn't understand how the mail was still being delivered to our address. She took the box, thanked us and left. We closed the door and resumed our dinner.
A month later, that is when it all started.
As soon as I opened the mailbox, a package fell out of it. When I arrived home, I was joking with my wife and told her that we would be expecting Anita soon. Sure enough, the next day and just like before, my wife and I were home eating dinner and watching television as usual, when we heard the bell rang. Since I already knew it was Anita coming to pick up the new package, I got up to answer the door. This time my wife did not get up. "Who is it?" I asked before opening the door.
"Hi, it's Anita." I heard the voice from the other side of the door.
I opened the door to Anita's bright smile and that same sparkle in her eyes. "Hi! I was expecting you. When I saw this package came in, I knew you would be arriving." I told her as I opened the box of mail to retrieve all her mail and the package. She told me that this one was an accident and that she did not order it. She said that she did not know about it until she got the notification that it was delivered. And since she was out with her kids, she figured she would stop by here to collect it. Just like last time, her eyes never left mine as she spoke with that same smile and sparkle.
Then she dropped the BOMB.
