The milkman was two hours late that morning. This was not altogether surprising, the milkman’s life having become the complicated affair that it had. But Mary and John would now both be quite late for work.

     They removed their festive hats after about an hour but kept them close at hand, alert for the sound of the milkman’s truck.

     He’d never arrived more than a few minutes after his scheduled time, and Mary found herself picturing everyone up and down the milkman’s route throwing him parties. Wouldn’t it make sense that others had also formed the attachment to him that they had? Why should John and Mary be the only ones who took the time to listen to the milkman’s sorrows? Were others also reassuring him that better days were just around the bend? And promising him a homemade German chocolate cake, his favorite, on his birthday? But were others also up late the night before because they ran out of organic walnuts and had to make a run to the 24-hour health-food store downtown?

     She wondered whether the milkman’s other clients had heard all the details about his romantic difficulties – about the way his first wife treated him, about his sister-in-law’s abuse of his confidence and about his online girlfriend’s reaction when she finally met him in person. Did his other customers also feel a little self-satisfied about making the time to share the milkman’s grief? Did they find themselves adding to the two dictums about visiting the sick and the imprisoned a third which held that the good should listen patiently to their milkman describe his mountain of difficulties?

     Surely, however, no one else was so affected when the milkman was out sick for a week and a half. Did anyone else call his employer so many times to ask about him during those disquieting 10 days?

     Did his other clients know about his lactose-intolerance?

     John wondered aloud whether something terrible might have occurred. What if the milkman’s ex-fiancée had been released and had finally carried out the threat she had shouted at him during the hearing three and a half years ago? What if that whiff of gas the other day in his laundry room had culminated in a devastating explosion last night? Or perhaps the milkman’s long-missing father had suddenly appeared and was holding the milkman at gunpoint because his son refused to reveal his mother’s whereabouts.