“Uh, yes,” I said, though uncertainty lingered in my chest. Moments later, Eli returned, a Paw Patrol cup in hand, condensation already sliding down its sides, filled to the brim with ice water. Under his other arm was a chocolate bar, usually jealously guarded. “Here, Mr. Mailman,” he said, extending the cup with both hands. “You look really thirsty and hot.” The mailman blinked, astonished. For a moment, he stared at the cup as if it were a rare treasure. “Oh, buddy… that’s so kind of you, but you don’t have to—”Continue reading…
