December 5
It was a cold, dreary, rainy Saturday morning, and Rosalind stayed in bed for an extra hour. Her two-cups-of-coffee breakfast was followed by an hour and forty minutes worth of housework. When the rain abruptly ended and the sun made a surprise appearance, she took advantage of the good weather and went shopping. There were still a few last-minute gifts she needed to buy, and she had nothing to wear to the company Christmas party.
As she'd expected, there was a crowd outside Macy's, ogling the elaborately decorated windows. It was matched in size only by the swarm of shoppers inside the department store. After buying a terrycloth bathrobe and a matching pair of slippers for an aunt in Boston, a Pandora bracelet for her secretary and an Adrianna Papell dress for the Christmas party, Rosalind went to Stella 34 Trattoria on the sixth floor for lunch.
It was relatively early in the afternoon when she got home, so she put the wrapped presents in the top of her closet and tried on the dress with her favorite pair of heels and a strand of pearls. She wondered if her secret admirer would see her in that outfit. Did he work in her building, perhaps for her company?
That reminds me. I haven't opened the next drawer in the Advent calendar yet.
Rosalind took the evening dress off, hung it on a satin hanger in her closet and walked into the living room. After searching for a moment, she located the Number 5 drawer and opened it.
"What's this?" she asked, finding a small, round plastic disk inside.
She examined the button-like object from all sides. Finally, it occurred to her what it was: a tiny computer-chip music box, the kind toy manufacturers sew inside cloth dolls and stuffed toys.
The editor gently squeezed the chip between her thumb and index finger, and it played "Love Me Tender." She caught her breath. The old Elvis Presley hit was the first song she and Brett had danced to, one that the two of them would later refer to as "our song."
No one knew about that song except Brad and me.
