The Days of Mail and Roses

By Felicia Ferguson

Author's Note: Usual disclaimers in the first chapter titled, July. Enjoy!

October

Two weeks later, Shane lifted the two-liter bottle from the rose cutting and ran her fingers through the green, healthy leaves. More white roots poked out of the drainage holes. She smiled. It was time for the next step according to her research.

She gave the plant a quick drink, then placed a small wooden block on either side of the stem and reset the two-liter bottle. The gap between the bottle and the soil would allow raw air to begin circulating inside the confines and help the plant adjust and be ready to transplant next spring.

She gave the plastic confines another kiss and headed inside to get ready for work. Spring truly was coming.

##

An hour into their workday, Oliver joined her by her desk. He cast an authoritative glance around the DLO, then said, "Ms. McInerney, today's department meeting will be of special interest to you given its topic of postal privacy codes and PCI compliance. I was thinking perhaps it would be good if you would join me?"

"When do we need to leave?"

Oliver checked his pocket watch. "It's scheduled to begin in thirty minutes. Does that give you enough time to find a stopping place on your current work?"

Shane felt her gaze warm at his consideration. "More than enough."

Oliver grinned and dipped his head before taking his seat and sorting through a stack of papers from Glynnis Rucker's office.

Shane watched him, but tried not to appear like she was watching him. He seemed awfully pleased she'd said she'd join him in the meeting. Maybe that meant …?

Her heart flipped over. He wasn't asking her to dinner. But given this was Oliver, attending a meeting with him as his special guest might just be a good runner up. Shane shook her head.

Don't read too much into it, Shane. He probably thinks it'll be easier for you to relay that kind of technical information to Rita and Norman—which it would.

Shane caught his gaze a moment later and absorbed the way the soft, pleased smile danced around his lips. Her brows lifted. But then again, maybe she was reading him right. Maybe his request was more for her company than her expertise.

Shane's heart melted. Progress, at last. But on the heels of that revelation came another question. How did she keep it, keep them, moving forward without pushing?

##

None of the other department heads had been surprised to see Shane join Oliver in the meeting, although Eleanor van Teasdale did squeeze his shoulder as she leaned down to whisper, "It's good to see you two together, honey. You're a good fit. You should make that permanent."

Oliver's cheeks had heated and he'd flicked a quick glance to Shane, hoping she hadn't overheard. Thankfully, she'd seemed absorbed in the handouts that had been distributed upon their arrival.

The meeting began, and Oliver tried to follow the presentation. But the presenter bandied about acronyms like PAN, PCI-DSS, PCI SSC, and PA-DSS as if they were a language all their own.

Shane must have sensed his discomfort. She flashed him a soothing smile and, with a quick glance to the presenter, murmured, "Don't worry, Oliver. Most of this doesn't have anything to do with the DLO. And what does is easy to fix."

Oliver sighed, and his shoulders eased under her reassurance. His eyes found her hers, and their gazes held for a heartbeat. While he was grateful for a personal translator, it felt even more right having her seated next to him. Being able to lean toward her and consult quietly on the topics being discussed. Why had he not thought to invite her before?

But then again, she hadn't been enthused at his coordinating their attendance at the lecture on the future of home delivery. So, despite the time that had passed since he had automatically assumed her interest, it was likely their ideas of enjoyable work-related activities might still be too different.

And as he caught Eleanor's knowing wink, another thought occurred to him. While Eleanor was a friend and member of his church, Shane's continued attendance could lead to others posing uncomfortable questions. Which could then result in inappropriate discussions of their relationship in the work place. Neither of which his gentlemanly nature could abide. Opting to simply appreciate her company at this particular meeting, Oliver decided to table all consideration of her furthered attendance until later and instead studied the handout as the presenter carried on.

##

Two weeks later, Shane wandered around her favorite garden store. It was near the end of October and the usual Saturday crowds had thinned out, giving her plenty of room to roam. According to her research, it was time to transplant the now rooted rose cutting into a larger pot and begin adding fertilizer. Since she currently didn't have roses in her yard, the fertilizer had been the highest priority, and she now carried a small bag under one arm as she made her way to the store's selection of pots.

Terra cotta pots in various sizes clustered on one group of shelves. Shane studied the selection. They were all perfectly practical. Exactly what would do the job. Besides the roses would eventually be planted in her garden bed, so it wasn't as if she really needed anything permanent.

But this was for Oliver's rose cutting. That he'd gifted to her. Now that it was firmly established, shouldn't it have a pretty pot to continue growing? She bit her lip as her eyes shifted further down the aisle to a collection of wildly stenciled and painted Talavera ceramic pots. Those would be much more expensive, but she could always reuse the pot once the rose was transplanted, right?

Giving into the urge, Shane ignored the plain terra cotta and headed toward the end of the aisle. Despite her love of color in her bloom preference, she did tend to lean toward solid color planters, usually in hues of blue or white. The garden center had a decent selection of them. One of those would be easy to incorporate into her porch displays.

But she grimaced. For some reason, they simply didn't appeal to her. Then something caught the corner of her eye. A single planter nestled among the Talavera collection. She padded further down the aisle and smiled as it somehow tugged at her heart.

She set the fertilizer and her purse on the concrete floor and eased the gallon-sized ceramic out. The bottom half was painted a teal blue while the top was a golden yellow. She couldn't exactly say why, but there was something about the color combination that seemed oddly familiar, and even comforting. Shane tucked the bag of fertilizer in the planter, grabbed her purse, and headed to the register. Next stop, grocery store.

She completed her usual grocery list without an issue and stood in line behind a mother with a baby in the cart and a toddler hanging on her leg. The mom cooed and tickled the baby while the little boy, apparently tired of the shopping and the wait, tugged on the door to the drink cooler then slammed it shut. Giggling at the sound, he did it again. And again. And again.

Shane glanced around the store to see if any of the employees might be concerned, but no one paid him any attention. Even his mother simply ignored the antics. Shane shrugged and watched as he tugged open the door and held it wide. A familiar yellow label caught her gaze. Yoo-Hoo.

A smile slipped over her lips. It was such an odd choice of favorite drink for a grown man,

but it was obviously a comfort to Oliver. What would he drink if he ever ran out? Not that he ever would. Oliver seemed to always have a ready supply thanks to his regular restocking of the DLO's fridge. Shane's eyes widened as the boy again slammed the refrigerator door, the sound finally gaining his mother's attention from the baby. She yanked him further up the line and put him to work adding cans to the conveyor belt.

Shane wasn't certain how wise that action was given his penchant for banging things, but apparently it was enough to entertain him. At least for a few minutes. Her eyes returned to the cooler and the rack of Yoo-Hoos.

Oliver was a stress drinker. And if he ever did run out, what then? Deciding she didn't want to risk it, Shane grabbed two bottles from the cooler and added them to her cart. Now, where would be a good place to keep them?

##

Monday morning, Shane pushed through the door to the Mailbox Grille. It was the most obvious place to stash her secret cache of Yoo-Hoos. But now, she had to somehow explain why she was stocking them there.

Thankfully, Angie was the barista that morning. Shane pulled the contraband out of her purse and then set both on the bar, blocking the view of the other patrons. "Would you mind stowing these somewhere behind the bar. I just wan—"

"Gotta keep your man happy. I get it." Angie flashed a knowing grin as she grabbed the bottles and put them in the small refrigerator under the counter.

Shane's lips parted. "Oh, but he's no—"

Angie flicked a meaningful look behind Shane then whispered, "Judging by that look? Yeah. He is."

Shane followed Angie's head tilt and nearly fell into Oliver's delighted gaze. She flicked her eyes back to Angie and shook her head at Angie's insightful, feminine look. She placed a soothing hand on Shane's forearm. "And mum's the word. They'll be right here when he needs them."

"Ms. McInerney, good morning." Oliver's brows lifted as curiosity lit his eyes.

"Ah … Oliver …" Shane's mouth dropped open. She flicked a glance from Oliver to Angie. What did she say? The last time she'd tried to cover when he'd caught her talking about him with Becky, her stammered attempts had died a quick and embarrassing death.

But Angie's cheeks curved in a sisterly conspiratorial smile. "Got your order in, Shane. I'll get your to-go skinny vanilla latte out in just a minute."

Shane swallowed her relief and mouthed, thank you, then turned to Oliver. "I was just heading up to the DLO. Can I get you an americano?"

"It would seem we had the same idea, Ms. McInerney." He nodded to Angie and after a few minutes, they headed to the DLO, coffees in hand.

##

They made their way up the street in companionable silence as they sipped their coffee and walked. Oliver savored the quiet comfort of Shane's easy company. Their stop at Boulder Creek and his sharing of his childhood experience seemed to have opened the door between them further, and an easiness, a thread of gentle connection, first felt as she'd comforted him in Washington Park after the news of his father's death, seemed to pull them closer. He longed to offer his arm to her as they walked. But it was still too soon for such intimacies.

And when they reached the employee entrance, the official red, white, blue colors of the USPS seemed to wave a warning flag. They were friends, perhaps even close friends now, but they were also co-workers. It was time to once again focus on work.

Oliver stepped back as she entered first, then took in a quick breath. "We have a busy week ahead of us."

Shane lifted her brows as she took a sip of her coffee. "How so?"

"Norman is procuring the latest damaged letters from the Terminal Annex and will be bringing them overly shorty. This shipment was part of an investigation into an accident involving a mail truck and fire hydrant."

"An accident? What happened?"

"Apparently, the letter carrier in Colorado Springs disembarked from his van to deliver a package, and he forgot to put the vehicle in park."

Shane closed her eyes and shook her head. "Oh, no."

Oliver bobbed his head, his lips wrinkling in perturbation at the postal worker's inattention. "Yes, the van rolled backward down the street unimpeded until it hit a fire hydrant, which promptly vented several hundred gallons of water into the van and damaged the letters."

"When did this happen?"

"Six months ago. The Office of Postal Security and the local police department just released the mail from the evidence logs so they could finally be delivered."

Shane's lips twisted in a wry grin. "And I'm assuming the postal worker was just starting his delivery route so he had a full truck?"

"That would be a correct assumption."

Shane pushed open the DLO door as her eyes lit with delight. "Well, then we'd better get to them."