The last voicemail

Message one. Tuesday, 11:42 p.m.

“Hey. It’s me. I know it’s late — don’t call back tonight. I just wanted to say the thing I didn’t say at dinner. Call me tomorrow. Actually, don’t. I’ll call you.”

Message two. Wednesday, 7:15 a.m.

“Okay, so I didn’t call. Ignore the first message. Or don’t — I don’t know. There’s a box in the hall closet, the blue one. If anything ever — just. It’s yours. That’s all. The box is yours.”

Message three. Wednesday, 7:19 a.m.

“It’s the blue one.”