When last we saw Vicky, she had just received flowers from John, with an invitation to dinner. But there was no phone number; John had forgotten to write it on the card!
Vicky had spent a fruitless 2 hours trying every way she knew to try to get John's phone number. She had called UPS, the hospital where John had been treated, every outlet she could think of. Everyone she had spoken to had been very pleasant, but could not give out personal information of that nature. She had called every John Porter in the phone book with no results at all and now her dialing finger was sore. Vicky fumed. How could John have forgotten such an important thing? Frustrated she grabbed her purse, ran out the door, and jumped in her car. Sometimes, aimlessly driving around was very helpful in calming her and allowing her to think. Vicky pulled out into traffic.
As Vicky turned corners and stopped at stoplights, she let her mind dwell on John; on how strong he was, how the hair on his arms glinted against his tan skin, how polite he was, how great his smile was. She felt a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, but it quickly turned into a tremulous frown as she pushed the tears away from the corners of her eyes. Vicky pulled over to the side of the road and parked the car, leaning her head against the wheel as she fought to control the sobs that threatened to rise again within her.
As she sat there, she heard a truck pull up ahead of her and stop. Vicky glanced up and did a double-take. It was a UPS truck! Vicky had never been so glad to see the color brown before! Usually, she made jokes with her friends about her dislike for that color; her favorite one was "Brown isn't a color, it's a DISEASE!" She very rarely used the Close to Cocoa or other brown ink pads in her supplies as she disliked brown so much, having grown up in the seventies, where EVERYTHING was brown, brown, brown. Vicky had lived in apartments with brown carpeting, worn brown clothing bought by her color-challenged mother and had sworn as soon as she could afford it, to never, never wear brown clothing again or live in a house with brown ANYTHING. But now she gazed lovingly on the UPS truck; now brown, for her, was the color of LOVE!
Vicky held her breath as the driver climbed down with a box. Could it be? Could it be.....John?
Was the UPS driver John, or another man? If it is and things go well, will Vicky marry John? Will she dress all her bridesmaids in brown dresses, now that it is the color of LOVE?!? Will she finally have to order reinkers for all those brown pads? Only time (and another episode) will tell on.....the Tearing Edge!