Alas, here is the e-mail thanking me for my efforts:

“I’ve finally learned the terrible fate of my sailors. Apparently they were delivered while we were still in Vermont and the delivery guy, when he failed to find us home, dropped them off at a nearby tee-shirt store and left us a note. The house sitter on the ninth floor mistook the 6 on the note for a 9, went to the store, discovered the package wasn’t for him, left it there, but failed to mention any of this to me. Meanwhile, the store owner put the package in the cellar because ‘it was beginning to smell.’ He too saw no reason to let me know what was going on, until yesterday when I tracked him down. I am so very sorry that all your good and kind efforts went for naught. Please let me know how much I owe you for this debacle and I will send it to you speedily. And thank you again for taking the time and trouble.”

Better she should come and visit before Aug. 30, when the deli closes. — Rozanne Epps

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