He had been a UPS driver for a decade when he bid on a country route. After years of 100+ stops per day, multi-story apartments for which he had to lug packages up stairs, he yearned for a change. This was familiar move amongst drivers once they got a few years under their belts. Sure, the mileage per day was big but with fewer stops and being from the country, he was happy to return to that particular landscape. Once he got into the rhythm of the new route, he loved it. People he ran into were usually pleased to see him, often taking a few moments to chat especially about the weather and road conditions. He was happy.
One stop in particular intrigued him. It was a medium-sized home at the end of a long driveway. At first he was a bit apprehensive, wondering how much of a hassle the drive was going to be during snow season. Were the owners going to keep it plowed? One would think they would unless they not only worked from home, they home-schooled and didn't go out much. But, his fears were unfounded. The drive was always plowed by the time he arrived usually in the early afternoon. It was a odd thing though-he never saw a soul except for an indoor orange tabby cat who would lift its head from it's perch next to the window by the front door when he arrived.
The first year during the holiday season was quite busy. He was putting in 12 hour days sometimes 6 days a week. A couple of days before Christmas he had a delivery at this home and on the porch bench by the front door was a wrapped package with a big card addressed to Mr UPS Man. He opened it in the truck and inside was a smorgasbord of home-baked goodies. The scent of cinnamon and chocolate filled his cab. He had to keep moving but grabbed a roll and ate as he drove. It was delicious. He had forgotten how good home-baked stuff tasted. His wife had baked some before she left him, so much of his memories were from his late Mom and Grandma.
For seventeen years he drove the route and each holiday there would be a package waiting for him. Mr UPS Man. He often thought about the baker, his mind wandering as he drove. Who was she? He knew her name from the address labels-Mrs. Sarah Thelen. Always addressed to her. A widow? A divorcee who never changed her name back? No children that he could observe. Nothing in the yard. If there was a husband, where was he? The lawn was always mowed. It was a puzzle. During the long drives, he spun fantasies in his head that one day, he'd catch her at home. She would be baking and bring him out a goodie fresh out of the oven. Maybe with a cup of coffee and they'd chat a moment. She'd know the drivers were on a timeline and monitored so she'd always say "well, I don't want to keep you" which he really wished she would. "Stop", he would say inwardly. "Unprofessional behavior. Creepy. Keep driving, man".
One day in late Spring, the woods were on the brink of leafing out in their hundred shades of green, he was driving by the house and saw a moving van in the drive and people taking boxes into the house. There had not been a delivery in some time but that was not unusual. He decided to take an early lunch to go off the clock and drove up the drive. He inquired about the woman who had lived there and they simply said that she had moved away with no forwarding information. He thanked them and drove down the road a piece and pulled over next to a field of bright green winter wheat. He sat there thinking about Mrs. Sarah Thelen. His Sarah. The baker. He felt an overwhelming sadness that this had come to an end. This thing. He had never laid eyes on her. Maybe she was 80 years old and had to move to assisted care, he thought. The loss of this yearly act of kindness, that he had enjoyed for seventeen years moved him to tears. He wouldn't have the chance to thank Sarah and say goodbye. He couldn't finish lunch-a gas station sub. He gazed at the rolling green hills and felt old. His back and knees were a mess. No wife, no kids. No one to check up on him, no one to take care of him when he retired. A V of Canadian geese flew overhead and he wished he could go with them. As their song faded, he took a deep breath, started the truck, put it into gear and drove.
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