I’ve been eagerly awaiting my present from Terry since before Christmas. It was sent “express” on the 16th. I managed to track it on the Canada Post website yesterday; the package had travelled over the course of eight days from Chicago to Laguna Niguel, California (utterly in the wrong direction), before arriving in Mississauga on Christmas Eve for more processing, with delivery expected on 3 January.
This afternoon, there was a knock at my door. The guy who runs the spa in the front of my building had a package for me. Oh, good, it’s only the 31st! Merry Christmas to me!
It wasn’t the package I was expecting. The address was right, though the postal code wasn’t and the addressee was someone who’s never lived here in the two decades I’ve been in this apartment. But the sender was from Regina, so I figured it was from someone I knew who was just messing with me. Of course I had to open it.
Inside was a lovely present—not for me, but a first wedding anniversary gift for a couple I’d never heard of before. I examined the card inside for some clues, and then had a gander at the gift: number 32 of a limited run of 70 copies of a collection of short stories by this year’s Nobel laureate Alice Munro, signed by the author! Exactly the sort of thing I would covet… for a moment I hoped I wouldn’t be able to find them.
But of course it really wasn’t mine, so I couldn’t be a jerk, and since it was their anniversary, I had to do all I could to find them. Besides, they were from Regina and so am I and, well, you know…
The first names of the couple were Hilary and Roslyn, so I assumed it was a nice lesbian couple celebrating their anniversary, but I didn’t know which first name on the card went with which last name on the package. Good thing there’s Google, so I typed in the last names, and right near the top of the page was their wedding registry. It turns out that Hilary is actually a guy, and he and Roslyn got married one year ago today, on New Year’s Eve.
Still no way of contacting them, though. The package had been sent to my address, and I had no idea if they were still in Toronto—though they must have been, because the gift was from his parents and of course they would know where their kids are. So I typed the incorrect postal code into the toolbar and got an address one block north.
Next step: go to 411.ca and type in the names and see if a phone listing came up that matched the address. Yep.
After a few rings a woman answered. “Hi, is this Roslyn? Happy first anniversary! I have a present for you from your in-laws. You’re going to like it very much.” She told me that my house number is the suite number of their condo. I put on my coat and shoes.
Roslyn seems nice, and I bet Hilary knows he’s a lucky guy. By the way, I took a side trip to Facebook and saw that Hilary and I have a mutual friend back home. Small freakin’ world is all I can say! And now that I know there are Regina people so close, I hope we will become friends. Territory folk should stick together. Territory folk should all be pals.
So that’s my good deed for the year, and just under the wire. You know, even if it takes some effort, it’s usually easy to make someone happy, though sometimes it’s really hard, and sometimes it’s both. Happy Anniversary, Roslyn and Hilary!
Oh, when I got home, there was another parcel stuck in my mailbox, this one from Terry. And it’s perfect. And it’s mine.