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What was in the package?

Bill didn’t want to bother with the meatloaf after I told him about the delivery. He gathered scissors and a utility knife, setting the box on newspapers in the middle of the table. We stood on either side. The excitement radiated off him in waves. He reached out with the utility knife to cut the brown packing tape when he paused, hand extended over the box. He told me, in case the package was a bomb, that he loved me and had been happy in our 32 years together. I told him to stop being so dramatic and just open it. And that I loved him too.

The box opened without a bang, and from deep within the white packing peanuts he pulled out a small wooden box. It was of dark wood, delicately carved with diamonds and hearts and painted in reds and greens. He carefully set it on the table, unclasped the delicate gold filigree lock and eased the lid open.

We both leaned forward. Inside was a deck of cards.

Bill leaned back. Playing cards? That was the big mystery? Surely there had to be more. While the fumbled through the packing peanuts looking for something else, I picked up the cards, noticing each was hand painted.

They were not playing cards, but Tarot cards. Each was uniquely different and at first glance appeared old and fragile. Bill looked disappointed as he cleaned up his tools and the box, stating he was ready for meatloaf any time it was ready. I could hear him mumbling something about Herman under his breath.

I replaced the cards and closed the lid of the box. I would inspect the cards more closely later while Bill watched the ball game. There must be something special about the Tarot cards, otherwise why would they have been sent after all these years.