The Brown Box

Nia was washing up after dinner. The lukewarm tap water pushing away soapy suds from her ceramic plates, salad bowls, and water glasses.

Knock, knock!

Nia oblivious to the knock, began scrubbing the La Creuset casserole dish. Paolo had left an hour ago when they had finished eating. She had put off cleaning up immediately after, resting on the sofa watching the news.

She was stuffed from the shipwreck casserole, an indulgent dinner. A bit of childhood nostalgia for Paolo with Nia's vegetarian version. Nia had layered buttered potatoes with pepper jack cheese stacked in between. A can of Campbells tomato soup was poured over. While a can of baked beans was smothered on top. She had thrown on some more pepper jack cheese over rice size pieces of cauliflower. This made a crispy top layer for the casserole when baked. To make up for a lack of greens, Nia had torn apart romaine lettuce with a salt and vinegar dressing, and freshly baked bread. Carb heavy, but a delicious meal. She knew Paolo needed this. And she did too. It had been a tough pandemic year.

Knock, knock.

Nia turned off the tap and heard a noise.

Knock, knock.

How odd, Nia thought. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and Paolo had his own key to enter into her house.

Wiping her hands on a clean dish towel, she quietly tip-toed towards the front door. And stood on her tippy toes as she looked out the peep hole. No one was there.

She sighed a breath of deep relief. No pesky neighbourhood children asking her to buy chocolate, or a ticket for a school raffle. She didn't like to be bothered, especially since she had no children of her own, yet. One day, she hoped.

To make sure no one was out there, Nia turned on the front porch lights, and looked through the peep hole again.

This time she saw a suspicious package wrapped in brown paper. It was in the shape of a square box. It stood alone on the front porch. Not a single person was in view of her sight.

Nia thought nothing of it. Must be an Amazon package, something that Paolo occasionally ordered to her house since he didn't have anyone at his apartment to sign for packages when he wasn't home. She knew these packages could be delivered anytime, twenty-four hours, seven days a week.

Bringing the package inside, she noticed no label. There was nothing to identify the package at all. Paolo didn’t pick up her call when she tried his phone.

Pacing the hallway for a moment, she decided to investigate the suspicious package wrapped in brown paper. Nia, curious, had thoughts to open the package. Carefully, she picked it up, and gently shook it. She heard a shuffle.

It was odd, perhaps a gift from a friend, or a marketing freebie she signed up for online. Using a smooth kitchen knife, she meticulously cut the packing tape and unwrapped the layer of brown paper. She opened the 9” x 9” square box to find another box, a smaller one, 7” x 7”. Maybe it was something delicate, she thought. She repeated the same actions to find a littler box contained, 5” x 5”. It was an enigma, a joke she thought.

Should she wait for Paolo? She called him again, and again but got his voicemail each time. This time Nia left him a message.

Standing at the kitchen counter, with brown paper covering her feet, she contemplated her next move. Again, curiosity got the better of her. Precisely using the kitchen knife, she cut the taped paper along its packing line. Again, she unraveled the brown paper to find another compact box wrapped in more brown paper. This time 3” x 3.”

Shaking the box, she kept wondering, what’s in here, a cheerio. There was a faint noise when she shook it. Again, she repeated the process, unpacking the brown paper without a rip. She took in a deep breath with fingers crossed. As she opened the lid of the tiny brown paper box, alas another brown paper wrapped box, 2” x 2”.

Taking this tiny box, she felt like throwing it against the wall. But her OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder) got the better of her, and she followed the same procedure. As the brown paper came off, this time a red velvet box emerged through the shards of brown wrapper. Nia gasped as she carefully opened it up.

A diamond ring.

Knock, knock.

Closing the lid, she clasped the tiny red ring box in her left hand. And opened the door.

Outside, Paolo was knelt, on bended knee. He gently took the box out of her left hand and opened it.

“Nia, will you marry me?”