It had to arrive today. John and Amy had got “yes” yesterday and Mike, to no one's surprise, got the #10 size business envelope containing the brief rejection letter. I could hardly sit through my last class of the day – when the bell rang, I was the first person to reach their car.
I raced home, passing the mail truck as it exited our cul-de-sac. Pulling in to the driveway, I saw dad standing in front of the garage, mail in hand. Lots of mail in hand, but no big envelopes. Shit.
“Hey dad! Any mail there for me?” I asked, climbing out of the car.
“Uhhhmmmm...” he drew out the syllable out of his mouth as if it was a string of handkerchiefs knotted together. “I haven't checked.”
“Ugh. Could you check please?”
He smiled and started to slowly thumb through the mail.
“Nope. Nope. Nope. Oh!” He paused while my heart stopped. “Got one here for 'current resident' – you can open that one if you want.”
“Come on dad. Is there anything in there from NYU?”
“Oh, looking for mail from NYU?” he asked as he reached around his back. “This must be what all the fuss is about.”