Original subtitles

♪ I've climbed the Eiffel Tower ♪

♪ Walked in a London shower ♪

♪ But I get lost finding my way to your heart ♪

♪ And I can tell you where the Big Dipper is ♪

♪ Where Cinderella's magical slipper is ♪

♪ I'm a wiz ♪

♪ Now that you know ♪

♪ I love you so ♪

♪ Hold me and kiss me ♪

♪ And show me the way to your heart ♪

You know, I often marvel,

as I imagine you do,

at the, uh, ease of Trans-Atlantic travel

as compared to, say, a hundred years ago.

Hmm!

Did I mention we saw

actual letters retrieved from the Titanic?

Yes. Yes, you did.

- At the British Postal Museum. - Yes.

- On your honeymoon. - Yes.

- Last Tuesday. - Mm-hmm.

In the afternoon.

Ah! Let me tell you--

nothing exceeds the realization

of a great dream of your life such as that--

unless, of course,

it is to experience it

with the love of your life by your side.

I dare say

we might be one of the great postal love stories.

That's how Shane and I met.

Just guessing-- at the post office?

Oh, uh, the Dead Letter Office, to be precise.

We comprise a rather elite task force

with wide powers of postal discretion.

But I get ahead of myself--

I could go on.

But, please, tell me about yourself.

Ladies and gentlemen,

we are beginning our descent into Denver.

Please return your seats back...

Oh, my goodness, the time just flew by!

- Are we landing? - Momentarily, my love.

Please store...

You know, you slept all the way from London.

How 'bout you?

Oh, my friend here and I

had the most marvelous conversation

- about love and the mail. - Yeah.

Every step it took to get us to this moment...

the threshold of our new life together.

And now, it begins.

And now...

it begins.

♪ Finally love ♪

♪ Has found me ♪

♪ After all this time ♪

♪ Finally love ♪

♪ It took so long it's just a crime ♪

♪ But now I'm not complaining ♪

♪ My life's complete ♪

♪ Finally love is here for me ♪

♪ Yes, it is... ♪

Good morning, Mr. O'Toole.

It's nearly ran down!

Oh. How long does it tick before it stops?

Five days.

I had the gardener winding it while we were away,

but I forgot he was

visiting his mother in Grand Junction this week.

Well, we were on our honeymoon.

You had a pretty good reason

for letting things slip a little.

True.

But it's ticked continuously for the last 100 years.

I'd never forgive myself

if this clock stopped on my watch--

so to speak.

So, um...

...how soon till you're ready to leave, my love?

I should be ready soon.

Well, it is our first day back.

So...

they'll understand if we're a little late.

Well...

I suppose I am the ranking official.

Oh, let me, um, bring this wedding gown upstairs.

No! Just leave it there.

I'm gonna take it to the cleaners

and have it heirloomized

by wedding dress preservation professionals.

All right.

- ♪ I believe my love... ♪ - Oops.

♪ ...Has been found ♪ Oliver!

Yes, coming!

They'll be here, Norman.

We were late getting back from our honeymoon, too.

Yeah, but we were coming back from the East Tincup Family Camp

during the off-season in Bland, Colorado.

They were in Europe. They have other languages.

They could get on the wrong train,

or eat the wrong cheese.

- We're here! - Oh, thank heavens.

Tell us everything!

- How was the cheese? - Uh, unparalleled.

The cheese, the wine...

and, of course--

the British Museum of Postal History

was humbling... inspiring!

Monumental.

The breadth and depth of their Medieval Collection was--

it put me in mind

to explore the possibilities

of a postal museum right here in Denver.

I couldn't stop thinking about it!

Yes, it was a big topic in the balloon.

Oh, you did the balloon!

We did! It was so magical.

Floating over Stockholm in a hot-air balloon,

sipping champagne with my new husband.

Sounds like a lot more fun than donkey rides in "East Tincup".

Oh, though the zipline was cool.

We did love the zipline.

Rita? What have we here?

It's a welcome-home present!

No!

Oh, yes.

"The Great Mailbox Breach of 2017"?

Yep. Every letter mailed from Garfield High School.

I had given up hope they'd ever be found.

Yeah. They were recovered from a street drain,

and then accidentally sent

to the terminal annex in Kansas City.

And it took seven years to track and return them

to Denver?

Yeah. Not everybody can be us.

We've got 25,

including that severely-damaged one.

And I have invented

something to remove mold

and flakes.

It's my, uh,

4-step "Desiccation and Revelation Process".

It'll only take five to six months

for the process to be complete.

Astounding, Norman.

Well, we have plenty to keep us busy until then.

Ms. McInerney,

would you like to do the honors?

Oh, you're still going by Ms. McInerney?

We're still working on it.

- Ah. - Okay...

Oh.

Water-soluble ink.

Perhaps addressed with a fountain pen.

I can barely read anything.

Well, we have obeyed all the postal-privacy directives,

and we have no other option.

Norman?

Well, extraction can be tricky.

Uh, over here.

We've got a whole day planned for you.

Lunch at Ramon's new restaurant with Oliver's dad.

And... Charley is bringing Eleanor.

Perfect! Ooh, how's that going?

It's not strange

having a brand-new mom and her baby

living in your basement?

Oh, no. When I was growing up, we always took people in.

And how's Charley handling single motherhood?

Oh. Well, a new baby is a lot...

uh, but we're helping,

and Norman is completely onboard.

- Aww. - Like...

like, completely!

Well, you'll see.

Well, my friends, we have a nearly-readable letter.

Shall we?

Mm.

Uh... ahem!

"Dear Maria,

I am shocked, dismayed, and quite hurt

by your actions.

I feel utterly betrayed

by someone I considered to be a stellar student

with great potential,

and I was proud

to be your mentor,

and, I thought, your friend.

When the police arrived today,

it broke my heart,

but you broke the law.

I'm sorry to say that I will press charges.

Life has consequences, Maria,

and you must learn to face them,

or this path of anger you continue to choose

will become a way of life,

and all you have worked for

will be overtaken

by self-entitlement and bitterness.

If you want to play ball for a living,

you need to learn how to play ball in life.

This is a difficult letter to write,

but not all teaching happens in the classroom,

and this is one lesson I feel I need to impart to you."

"Impart!" I'm gonna go with English teacher.

"As your theater teacher,

I often emphasized

that drama belongs on the stage, not..."

Oh. The rest is missing.

What we do know, though, however,

whoever wrote this--

clearly, a Garfield High School theater teacher

seven years ago--

and addressed this, apparently, to a student.

Ouch. What a letter to send!

Or receive.

Maria could be a very different person now.

Are you really sure we have to deliver that?

I didn't hear you say that.

She must have done really awful.

We brought them all the way from London.

That's from the British Postal Museum.

Oh, a sealing wax set!

It stamps the profile of a corgi.

"Mailboxes of the 19th Century."

Limited edition.

Oh, there she is! Charley!

- Hey! - Hi!

How are you doing?

Oh, she's fine.

A little colicky, but that's normal.

Sleeps almost six hours a night, wakes up very cranky.

I think he meant Charley, Norman.

Oh, I'm great, but I couldn't do it

if Eleanor didn't have two amazing godparents, huh?

Hey, if you wanna sit down, I can take her for a walk.

Oh, yes! Thank you.

Mm. Bye!

Yeah?

Beep... beep... beep... beep.

So, Charley, when are you back to work?

Um, well, I could take more maternity leave,

but, honestly, it's kind of lonely

at Rita and Norman's without them there.

Oh.

Why don't you come hang out with us?

I mean, you could bring Eleanor along.

Oh, uh, regulations don't--

Joe, you could come by and help us set up

a crib in the corner.

Actually...

Norman already has.

There's a crib in the DLO?

- Mm-hmm. - I gave 'em your old one.

I'm sorry, uh, babies in the workplace are-- they're--

Oh, you are "the ranking official"

in the Dead Letter Office, darling.

Yes, but--

Wait!

Charley, didn't you graduate from Garfield High?

Seven years ago, yeah.

Did you know a girl named Maria?

She either played softball or volleyball, maybe?

No. I wasn't really into sports that much.

Do you remember your drama teacher?

Um, Mrs. Philpott. She's not there anymore.

She actually left the second semester of my senior year.

No one knows why, though.

And the plot thickens.

And the salad bar is open.

Oh!

Please don't get used to, um...

...don't get in the habit of assuming

I'm willing

to bend the postal rules just because we--

...Because we share the same mailbox?

Ovilear!

Ramon!

You were both so kind to think of me

on your honeymoon.

What a thoughtful souvenir.

"A Compendium of Recovered Mail from the Titanic."

Well, your great-uncle was lost on the Titanic, if I recall.

Actually...

he got lost on the way to the Titanic.

Ah!

A fortunate mix-up.

So, how is married life?

Grand.

Every day, a revelation.

Mm. Marriage...

is like a salad bar, Ovilear.

A great one brings you back again and again,

to appreciate all it has to offer.

Hmm.

How are your adoption plans coming?

Oh. Well, there's a lot of paperwork to fill out,

to even start looking for a baby,

but helping Charley with Eleanor

takes up a lot of time.

Well...

Norman's time.

So, you found a letter to Mrs. Philpott?

From. It was mailed

in the Great Mailbox Breach of 2017.

A bomb scare that turned out to be a false alarm--

but, in the process, a mailbox was blown up,

along with most of the mail inside,

and then, anything they did recover

ended up at the wrong post office

for a few years,

until it made its way back to us.

Is that all you're going to eat?

Oh, I'm not very hungry.

Well, not every letter we deliver

is gonna be good news.

Whoever Maria is,

she has a letter to read, and we are gonna have--

Norman, have you ever had anything of yours heirloomized?

Um, no. Nope.

I think I would've remembered something like that.

Cherry Creek Professional Fabric Preservation--

it is the only place that I would trust

with preserving my wedding dress.

And it'll be in perfect condition

for when your daughter gets--

oh, if you have a daughter.

Maybe someday.

But what about you?

Oh. We're still trying, of course.

But we wanna adopt, too.

If I can just get Norman to finish

his application essay on why he wants to be a dad--

Hey.

Maybe he already feels like one.

Okay?

You know, it's funny.

You think you know

your soulmate's quirks and thoughts,

and then they surprise you.

Oh, believe me, after all of these years,

I have seen all of Oliver's quirks.

Well, I'm going to run a search for all the Marias

in sports at Garfield High in 2017.

I'm just gonna need to take a look at that letter again.

Oh, I've got it.

Uh...

where'd it go?

Oh!

I put it in the Pending Box, and--

it's--

It's already empty.

Uh, that's not the Pending Box, that's the Outgoing Box.

Oh, and I emptied it onto the main conveyor

on our way to lunch!

So, it went back into the system?

Oh, I'm so, so, so sorry. I...

I'm so jet-lagged, and I just--

Not to worry.

It was a dead letter, it still is a dead letter,

and will find its way back to us sooner or later.

We just have to wait.

In the meantime,

we have plenty of work to do right here.

Hmm.

Have you thought about expanding the closet?

Or, you know, adding on?

Oh, the house is protected by the State Historical Society.

Any changes have to be approved by a committee.

Wow.

It's astounding.

There's no postal museum in the State of Colorado,

and yet, there is a museum entirely dedicated

to the Unsinkable Molly Brown.

I know, to be fair, she did survive the Titanic.

Are you feeling a little warm?

No, not really.

Mm-mm.

How do you open this?

Oh, uh,

well, the crank was lost years ago.

Um, the Society won't approve a new window,

because it affects

the exterior integrity of the house.

It only opens by a committee?

Uh, well... Uh, the review board meets next spring.

I'll try and get it on the agenda.

You okay?

I just feel awful about that letter.

On the other hand,

would it be so terrible if Maria never got it?

Yes, it would.

And I have every confidence

that we will get another chance to do the right thing.

Trust the timing.

"Trust the timing."

Shane?

Oh, good heavens.

I'm almost ready.

I just have to find my other shoe.

Well, I'm sure it's here.

There are none left upstairs.

Oh! Got it.

Ah!

- ♪ Ready! ♪ - Ready.

- Big day. - Big day.

Mm!

Morning, Charley. You're here early.

I bet she didn't wanna miss the grand finale

of the "Great Mailbox Breach"--

only two letters left.

Actually, three.

It's back!

Maria's letter?

No!

Cast your dead letter upon the postal waters...

and it shall be returned to you.

Charley? Are you okay?

Um...

I have a confession.

The bomb scare--

the Great Mailbox Breach of 2017...

...that was my fault.

I-I'm sorry.

I don't understand

how you could be responsible for a bomb scare.

Because it was my idea.

Uh, not the bomb part!

It's just, um... it's complicated.

Well, I am stunned.

No, I'm flabbergasted, actually.

I'm-I'm more than that! I--

You tell us what happened.

There were three of us who hung around in high school.

It was me and these two guys-- Marlon and Barry.

Marlon was the sweet one.

Barry was the crazy one.

We saw the world the same way.

We read the same books. We laughed at the same things.

So, Barry's thing was thinking up these crazy pranks.

Nothing mean-- just... creative.

Like, um...

putting the principal's morning announcements

through an app that made him sound like Voldemort.

"Voldemo..."?

Later.

Go on.

Anyway, we had this thing about "seizing the day".

Except Marlon and Barry kept teasing me

for always being worried

we'd get into trouble if we did, so...

I decided to do something

to prove I was just as creative as they were.

That mailman empties that box

at 12:05, every day,

like clockwork.

What kind of life is that?

Every day... same time, same box.

I don't know.

Some people like their routines, you know?

Some people need their routines.

Take that away and he'd be lost.

Or maybe he'd be released from the monotony

of the daily drudgery of constant retrieval,

and it would rock his world.

All he needs is something to wake him up!

Tomorrow...

...we seize the day.

Okay, we seize the day.

We seize the day!

High-five!

I must take exception to the characterization

of dedicated postal service as "drudgery".

She was 17, Oliver.

Keep going.

I had the idea to put something in the mailbox

that would surprise the carrier.

Just surprise him, that's all!

Uh, maybe put a microphone in there

and have a voice yelling, "Let me out!"

Barry wanted to put a cat in there.

A cat? Mm.

A cat?

But...

...we landed on something we thought was pretty tame.

We put an alarm clock in the mailbox

just to see what would happen.

Go, go, go!

I can hear it.

Mrs. Philpott, 2:00.

Ahem.

- Morning! - Good morning.

Uh-oh.

What happened?

The alarm didn't go off.

What's he doing?

Where's he going?

Hey, you two! Get out of here! Come on, run!

Nobody really thinks that's a bomb, right?

What do we do now?

Nothing!

We weren't here.

The bomb squad came.

Uh-oh!

Charley!

They detonated the mailbox.

And the rest is history.

You intentionally breached

a repository of the U.S. Mail

with a clock?

I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking--

all those letters.

Charley, it was a really long time ago--

you were just a kid,

and it was a silly prank.

It was a federal offense!

But not intentional.

A federal offense.

But not intentional.

You know I love the post office.

Yes, we do.

But there should be a consequence for...

this sort of thing.

So...

...suspension.

Oliver!

So... ahem!

...you...

you should go home

and meditate on what you've done--

...and we will see you in the morning.

Thank you, Oliver.

I'm sorry.

At least we found Maria's letter.

Wait!

You asked me about a Maria at my school.

I just remembered one.

Do you remember her last name?

No, but she was supposed to be the lead in the school play

and then she just disappeared.

Like Mrs. Philpott?

Did she play sports, too?

All I know is that Maria never graduated.

I think she got arrested or something.

Wow. So Maria went to jail,

Mrs. Philpott disappeared,

and Charley violated

Federal Postal Regulation 587B--

...Section E, Paragraph 12?

At least we have the letter back,

and a real lead now, too.

I ran a search

in the 2017 Garfield High database

for seniors named "Maria".

I found two.

A "Maria Haugen"

was never registered in the drama class,

but a "Maria Solinger" was.

So, Maria Solinger.

Next steps?

Track down Maria's current address

and surprise her with a really awful letter?

That is our mandate, yes.

I hope that our efforts to deliver the last two letters

are successful

and bring a modicum of pleasure to their intended recipients.

Well...

let's get this over with.

That's the spirit.

Oh! How did your appointment go this morning?

Oh. Well, the adoption people want us to find

a registered family therapist

to attest to our "fitness" as parents.

Yeah, they gave us a list of names,

but they're all on the other side of town.

I'm not comfortable being that far away from home,

in case Eleanor needs something.

On the other hand, honey,

perhaps a good therapist

could provide a little perspective

on how to raise your children

while other people raise theirs.

- Oh, I've got one! - A therapist?

- Cousin. - Oh--

Norman and his myriad cousins.

Oh, that's right--

Calliope! She's perfect!

She's a family counselor, she's right in town,

and she's really flexible!

Well, with our schedule, flexible hours are a plus.

I haven't seen Calliope since, um...

Oh! Five years ago.

When she played "Santa Claus" at the office Christmas Party.

Oh, that was her

coming down that pneumatic tube in the terminal annex?

Yeah.

Do you really think a cousin is a good idea, though?

- Because, I feel-- - Of course!

I mean, who knows them better?

Uh, I'm sorry I interrupted you at lunch.

Oh. That's okay.

I mean... I get it.

Uh, you get what?

Well...

sometimes, you just have to weigh in on a conversation

with another point of view

before I've had a chance to actually--

But I didn't see it as "weighing in".

You-- You just did it, darling.

But that's okay.

It's just a little quirk.

Little quirk.

Rita, where are we with that first letter?

I'm still missing

one digit of the street address and most of the street name,

except for the letter "Z," but... we're getting there.

Great. And the search for Maria Solinger?

Well, I found 20 just in Colorado,

but only one that matches our Maria's age,

and that is where the trail for Maria Solinger stops.

After her arrest?

Yeah. I couldn't find anything in the traditional news,

probably because she was under 18.

But I did find something on the Garfield High chatroom

from back then.

Listen to this--

"Maria Solinger could've gone Division 1

but she blew it."

Then this...

"I heard she was sentenced to 30 days in juvie.

Kiss that scholarship goodbye."

- Hmm. - Wow.

Whatever Maria did

must be the reason she didn't graduate high school.

If she was sentenced, there would be court records,

but that would be a tough one.

Maybe we can follow a paper trail

to somebody who still knows her.

Okay.

Uh, Norman?

I could use your advice.

Oh. Um...

...well, personal or postal?

Well, for many years,

I have been your mentor in, um, many areas of life,

but now, as a newlywed,

uh,

the pupil has become the teacher,

and I have, uh, much to learn about the first months of...

ahem... adjustment.

Um...

well, uh, it's mostly about working out the little things.

Like, um...

who does the dishes or who takes out the garbage,

or who thinks my 36-volume collection

of South American commemorative stamps

doesn't belong on the coffee table--

...little stuff.

But you do, uh, adjust, eventually?

Yeah.

Well, it comes down to...

teamwork, compromise...

...waking up every morning and thinking,

"What can I do to make her happy today?"

Bingo!

Public Defender Ed Frank

supervised juvenile cases seven years ago.

Excellent. Let's make the call.

I'm on it.

And guess what!

I... just matched a zip code

to half a street name.

That's two down, one to go.

We're on a roll!

Yeah. And Calliope can see us at one today.

Except I was gonna take Eleanor for a walk.

Oh, Well, you could take a walk with me to therapy.

Mm. Public defender's booked for today,

but there might be an opening for tomorrow.

So I think I might just go home and have a nap.

Are you okay?

Yeah, it's just these long hours

- are starting to make me-- - Actually, you reminded me.

Um, I have an errand to run.

I can drop you at the house.

All right, everyone!

Let's break and regroup at two, shall we?

Oh, okay.

Come on, Norman. Let's get evaluated.

Oh...

I am so ready for this nap.

Oh...

oh, no.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Oh...

How are you feeling?

Oh, I feel good.

Wh-Where's my wedding dress?

Oh, well, uh, I knew

you fully intended to take it to be preserved,

so I thought to myself,

"What can I do to relieve my dear wife

of the burden of such a mundane errand?"

So, I took it for you.

Wow. How thoughtful.

And-And where did you happen to take it?

Oh, "Fred's Swifty Cleaners".

Not "Cherry Creek Professional Fabric Preservation"?

No. Fred--

he was very excited, and in fact,

he said he's always wanted to work with "real lace".

I thought you'd be pleased.

I just wish you'd asked me first.

Oh, well, it would be just another decision

for you to make, when you have so many

uh... here, waiting for you already.

Well, I've been making decisions

my whole life, darling.

Just not in historical landmarks.

Huh.

Do you think you'll feel well enough

to go back to work?

Yep.

Why don't you go on ahead and I will meet you there?

O...kay.

Huh.

Ahem.

- Bye. - Bye.

Exquisite craftsmanship.

1898.

Yes. I can restore this.

Yeah! Fabulous!

Two months, maybe three--

if you want it restored to its original beauty.

Three months? No, that's impossible.

I'm not fixing a can-opener.

My craft is one of precision and detail.

It's a crank!

What if we swap out original beauty

for original function?

Please? My marriage is riding on this.

New husband, family heirloom.

Six weeks.

- Four days. - Three weeks.

Four days.

"I am pleased to inform

that Norman and Rita Haywith-Dorman

exemplify the highest parental standards,

and I unreservedly recommend them

as candidates for adoptive parents."

Mm-hmm!

"The highest parental standards."

I bet all my practice with Charley and Eleanor helped,

don't you?

Oh, yes. Absolutely, darling.

I know, I know, I'm late!

I'm sorry.

No, no, just in time.

Rita believes she's about to make

a breakthrough on our next-last letter.

Oh, I did it!

I made a match!

The only possible combination of zip, street, and name

is addressed to--

oh... wow.

Ahem.

Hi! You didn't have to knock.

Uh, uh... we are here on official business.

The second letter from 2017.

We believe it's addressed to you.

Rita cross-referenced the address

to one previously listed for you.

So?

Is it really for you?

Now, Charley, don't feel pressured

to reveal the contents of a personal letter to us.

"Dear Charley...

I know this sounds crazy

since we've only been friends up to now,

but the truth is...

I have feelings for you."

Oh, wow!

"They started the day we met, and they've just gotten deeper,

and if I don't say something now,

we could g-graduate,

go our separate ways,

and miss out on the best thing that could ever happen to us.

So, it's time for me t...

to seize the day

and just say it--"

"I think I love you."

"And if you think you could feel the same way,

then maybe after we graduate,

even if it's not the three of us anymore,

it could still be the two of us.

Just think about it, please."

It's poetic, but, um, to the point.

It looks like he signed it "L-O-" ...something.

Probably "Love, Barry."

Barry?

I didn't realize he liked me so much.

Well, so, that's Barry's handwriting,

that's not Marlon's?

Yeah. Yeah, see how "seize"

is spelled with I-E instead of E-I,

and "separate" has three E's?

Common mistakes, sadly.

Not for Marlon.

But Barry was a terrible speller.

Barry wrote this.

But we just had fun together.

If one of us had had feelings for another one of us,

it would've have been weird,

but I guess Barry liked me.

I always liked--

Doesn't matter now.

Have you kept in touch?

- With Barry? - Or Marlon.

No. We all lost track of each other after graduation.

Maybe Barry's still interested.

- In a single mother? - Yes!

Besides, it's been, like, seven years.

I wouldn't even know where to start.

Well, that's what we do.

We could help you find Barry.

But we are not in the business of locating lost crushes.

Our official duties require us

to focus on Maria Solinger and delivering--

Why can't we do--

sorry to interrupt.

Oh, uh--

sounds like Eleanor needs her mama.

Uh, well, our, um...

...therapist,

uh, helped me see that focusing on Eleanor

was getting in the way

of focusing on starting our own family.

Wow! You got all that in an hour?

She seems pretty special.

Well... she is my cousin.

Can you guys stay for dinner?

Uh, thank you,

but we have a date with a pasta maker.

Oh.

It was a wedding gift from Hazel.

Assuming we can find it.

Lots of gifts still on the dining table.

And on the floor

and in the closet.

Yep, lots!

Lots of gifts.

Lots of friends giving lots of gifts.

Ooh.

You know, I was thinking,

if you'd prefer to go out for dinner, we could--

Ahem. Do you smell something?

Yeah.

It's like... something's on fire.

That would explain the sirens.

Sounds like it's coming from over there on Gaylord,

near--

Fred's Swifty Cleaners.

No.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

No!

Ahem.

I know what you're thinking.

Oh... I don't think you do, Oliver.

I suppose, um...

...You got to, um...

wear it, uh, before--

"Before"?

Before you took it to the wrong cleaners

and it was cremated...

by Fred's Swifty Fire Center?

Perhaps we should discuss this later.

What are you doing?

Winding the clock.

But it doesn't have to be wound

for another three and a half days.

Oh. I, uh...

wind it every other day.

It's keeps the mechanisms supple.

It's not there.

I-I broke it.

I was trying to open that stupid window upstairs!

And I took it to a repairman, and he said there's a chance

it'll be ready before the clock winds down.

I'm so sorry.

I'm sorry, too.

How about I make you some linguine and clams

with a nice cabernet?

Thank you.

Uh... I'm not very hungry.

I mean, who never opens the window in their bedroom?

Did you try using a 3/4-inch Allen wrench?

The point is that the window should have worked,

but it didn't, so I found a way to fix it.

But you didn't.

And now, the sacred O'Toole clock

that hasn't stopped chiming in a thousand years

is going to stop

if Arthur doesn't find the right piece of wood

to fix the thingie in time,

and... my wedding dress is dead!

Did you guys apologize?

I said I was sorry.

He said he was sorry.

But did you forgive each other?

Well, I felt it would be a thoughtful surprise

to have her dress waterproofed

and mothproofed, professionally,

as a, you know, lasting heirloom,

and save her the chore of delivering it herself.

And it gets it out of the hallway.

Yes, that too,

so I took it to Swifty Cleaners.

Actually, the, uh, "former" Fred's Swifty Cleaners

after, uh, 6:00 last night.

So the wedding dress is now...

essentially...

toast?

And the clock crank?

It's not cranking.

Norman,

I'm not sure what I'll do

if I let the family clock run down after all these years.

Oh.

Well, what's the worst that can happen?

Coffee break!

Here's your usual, honey.

Just like you like it.

- Thank you. - What is that?

Oh, that's-- uh, my father brought it in.

It's the O'Toole family rocking chair.

It's nearly a hundred years old.

Aww.

Oh, good heavens, it's like I've married a museum.

Oh, Shane?

The, um, public defender returned your call.

Uh, he leaves tomorrow on a two-week vacation.

Great. Just great.

But if I go now,

I'll camp outside his office, and then he'll have to see me.

Uh, perhaps Norman and I should take over from here?

What-- the two of you take over?

Well, you've been tired, and this, uh...

may end up being a very sensitive meeting.

Sensitive?

Oh, silly me.

Hey!

Shane!

I found the, um, Garfield yearbook.

Oh, look!

We are looking for anything about Barry.

Uh...

Ah! Senior class.

Let's see... oh, look!

There's Charley!

"Charley Reddick-- most likely to have a happily-ever-after."

Then we will just have to make sure that we get her one.

I understand the, uh, irresistible urge

to locate this fellow on Charley's behalf,

but as I said,

personal interests cannot exist in the postal environment.

Oh, come on, Oliver.

This is for Charley.

You heard her yesterday.

I did.

Uh, just, in my experience, there are countless ways

in which meddling in another's affairs can backfire.

Agreed!

There are a myriad of ways

that meddling in anyone's stuff can backfire--

or just end up on fire.

You mean "myriad ways".

It's a common misconception

to use the article "a" and the preposition "of".

However-- Oh, look!

"Fast-Talking Barry."

- Oh! -"Most Likely

To Own a Car Dealership."

Are you seriously giving me a grammar lesson right now?

My only intent was to clarify

the use of "myriad" as an adjective.

Now, if it had been employed as a noun--

Oh, then I would use "a myriad of" other ways

to stop you from correcting me.

That would be technically correct,

if used as a noun.

Right now, there are

"a myriad of" nouns coming to mind.

Just as there are myriad ways to open a window

without employing the one tool

never intended to open the window.

And there it is.

Forgive me--

I thought we were supposed to keep personal interests

out of the office environment, Mr. O'Toole.

Exactly my point, Ms. McInerney.

Is anyone hungry?

- No. - No.

Hi! Sorry we're late.

We've got a lead on Barry.

Oh!

Might be selling cars. He sounds a little sketchy,

but if you decide to check him out,

whatever you do,

don't do it on postal time.

She's gone.

She's not gone.

She just needs some air.

Huh.

So do I.

Go find her.

Rita and I can talk to Mr. Frank.

You just go.

Norman, I don't know where to look.

Well, of course, you do.

Where do you go

when you need to feel like yourself again?

Home.

"Home."

Um...

This is Calliope's number.

She made time for us right away.

So, just, uh...

...think about it.

Thank you.

And here I was, wondering if you know me at all.

I know you're unhappy.

Because you are!

And you are because I am,

and I don't know how we got here...

or where we go now.

Remember...

how it felt when we were sitting on my porch swing?

Everything made sense when we were there,

going in the same direction.

Maybe we need some help.

So, Rita and Norman turned in their application, huh?

Yeah. All they have to do is wait now, I guess.

Could take a year.

Well, the good stuff is always worth waiting for.

You found that old high-school friend of yours yet?

You know about that?

You know those "Dark of Night" awards

over behind Oliver's desk?

One of those is mine.

- Oh. - You don't get one of those

without paying attention to details.

So?

Yeah. Yeah, I just found him.

Turns out he really is a car salesman,

right here in town.

Hey.

Then what have you got to lose?

Give the guy a call.

You are so kind to find the time to help us, Mr. Frank.

Well, you don't give me much choice.

Federal postal officials with badges

beat local public defenders every time.

This is very federal, and very postal.

Mm-hmm.

I'm sorry, but my hands are tied here.

Maria's juvenile records are sealed.

Now, you can try to get a court order,

but that might take months,

and there's no guarantee they would grant access.

The post office just wants to know

about her current whereabouts.

The people I represent

aren't in the habit of sending annual Christmas cards.

Well...

if you do think of anything you can tell us,

please give us a call.

Well, this may not help your search,

but I'll tell you one thing--

Maria was a really good kid

who had some issues she needed to deal with.

She regretted what she did,

and she deserved a second chance.

I tried to give her one,

and I hope she took it.

Hmm.

We're never gonna get through all that red tape.

- We gotta go Plan "B." - Should we run it by Oliver?

They're in therapy. We got this.

Wait.

Thank you!

Plan "B" is Mrs. Philpott?

Yeah. We ran into a dead-end with Maria.

But we found Mrs. Philpott's address

in an old faculty directory,

and that led us here.

There's only 1.5 people named Philpott in every 100,000,

even less in Denver,

so, it really wasn't that hard.

- Mm. - Come on, it's gonna be okay.

Mrs. Philpott?

Yes?

We're from the post office.

Yes, I wrote this-- to Maria Solinger.

But I thought it was destroyed in the explosion.

It's my fault, Mrs. Philpott.

Barry Rogers, Marlon Carter, and I dropped a clock

in the mailbox, as a stupid prank.

We had no idea how far it would go.

Of course you didn't.

I'm just thrilled that this was never delivered.

Oh. Well, that's the thing.

Once that letter entered a U.S. Mailbox,

it became the property of the U.S. Postal Service.

So we have no choice

but to deliver that to Maria now.

Oh, dear! No, please.

I wrote this in a very weak moment,

when I was really struggling,

and what Maria did was just the last straw.

What did Maria do?

Maria was a...

talented...

very promising senior.

She could act onstage

and lead a team on a softball field.

And the rule was,

if her grades went down, she couldn't play.

So when she failed her final exam,

she was benched--

on the very game

that a college scout was attending just to see her.

Oh, she begged her coach to look the other way,

but he wouldn't.

And so, she begged me to raise her grade,

and I wouldn't.

She just lost it.

Smashed her bat into my windshield.

No one was hurt,

but by the time it was all sorted out,

I had missed a very consequential

doctor's appointment.

It was my first day of chemo.

Maria was arrested for vandalism and expelled from school.

Not long after, I-I left school to work on my recovery,

and well, here we are.

Do you have any idea where she is now?

No.

But I couldn't bear it

if this letter makes things worse now.

We have to deliver that letter to Maria.

But...

there is no reason we couldn't deliver... two.

We just need to find her.

So, let me see... um...

well, when I was looking for Maria--

...I'd usually find her

making out under the bleachers with a boy named Toby.

Toby, uh...

Toby Seccombe!

Couldn't act, couldn't throw a ball--

the only talent that kid had was being crazy about her.

I hope she didn't lose that, too.

And then I read this kitchen hack on Instagram

that said you waste more water by rinsing every plate

and every piece of silverware

one at a time

before you put it in the dishwasher

than if you just put

a small load into the dishwasher.

I mean, everything gets clean,

and it's more ecologically sustainable.

That's why I do it!

How do you feel about that, Oliver?

I'm afraid I don't know what an Instahack is.

"Gram." Instagram.

Would it be fair to say that each of you,

having lived alone before getting married for...

how many years?

E-Every day since I graduated college.

And Oliver was...

Married, very briefly.

Prior to that, I lived in the home--

alone-- in which we currently reside.

Really, a lovely Victorian

that's been in my family forever.

So, each of you, over the years,

have developed your own daily routines--

dishwashing, cleaning, etcetera--

and that worked for you then, as a single person,

but not necessarily now, as a couple.

Well, one might argue,

irrespective of one's marital status,

that a freshly-made bed is more aesthetically pleasing

with crisply-folded hospital corners.

We don't live in a hospital.

We don't live in a college dormitory, either.

Oh!

I'd like to end there for today.

I'd like to see you back in two days,

but, in the meantime, I have some homework for you.

She gave us homework, too.

Lots of bubble baths! What about you?

Oh, something about

not building another fire this week

until the flue is open.

I think it's a chimney-sweep reference.

Oh, yeah.

I think I might have a way to find Maria.

Mrs. Philpott said that Maria had a boyfriend, right?

Mm-hmm.

What if... that boyfriend became a husband?

I'm gonna do a search for a Maria Seccombe.

Oh...

Huh.

This is highly irregular.

We followed protocol.

Well, you were the first ones to make contact.

Perhaps you and Rita should follow through?

Uh, no. No. Charley's having coffee with that Barry guy,

so we're watching Eleanor.

And when we find Maria...

well, you and Shane should do this.

Together.

You know, I really hope Barry is everything

that Charley is hoping for.

I keep wondering--

if Barry thought that letter was blown up,

why didn't he write Charley another letter?

Oh, I don't know.

Yes!

We found her!

Ms. Seccombe?

Yes?

Uh, my name's Oliver O'Toole, and this is my, uh...

colleague, Shane McInerney.

We're from the post office

and we'd like a moment of your time.

Sure. I only have a moment, though. Come on in.

We run the Dead Letter Office

and we have a letter addressed to you several years ago.

You were, at one time, Maria Solinger, right?

Yes.

We apologize if we had to go to some lengths to locate you.

It involved contacting the writer,

a Mrs. Barbara Philpott.

Needless to say, um...

she remembers you, and she remembered Toby.

So, finally, we put two and two together

and discovered you'd married.

We were concerned that, um,

receiving this letter after so many years

might cause some distress.

Although, you seem, uh, well,

uh, working here and, um, not--

In jail?

The letter was written not long after the incident.

We're required to deliver this to you,

but... you are not required to read it...

and we do have another letter

that she wrote to you just yesterday.

Dear Maria...

I owe you a long-overdue apology,

and with all my heart,

I hope you are in a place where you can accept it.

You were angry that day,

and I should have handled it better,

but I'd just discovered I had cancer.

I was scared and angry with the world, too.

And you paid the price for my anger.

I'm so sorry.

Forgive me.

Can you-- right here...?

Of course.

"I'm so grateful

that my letter was found in time

to help me reach out to you.

I have a new, far-less-dramatic life,

growing flowers, of all things.

I hope you have found a happy life, too.

Fondly, Mrs. Philpott."

Mrs. Philpott has been in remission

for quite a few years...

uh, until recently.

Thank you.

For the record, I am happy.

I mean, it took a lot of time, and I had to start over, but--

Sorry, I will read this again.

I just, uh--

Oh! Uh, we've taken up too much of your time.

Thank you.

No! Thank you.

I wish we could keep talking,

but I just got thrown a curve today.

You do seem pretty busy.

It always is in Adoptions.

We thought we had a couple

to adopt a little girl being born in a few months,

and they have just backed out, so--

I'm scrambling here.

This isn't the same as meddling.

This is just passing on information.

Information that could change their lives.

I know, I know,

it's "blurring the lines

between official business and personal life."

Not unlike keeping a nursery in the DLO, I suppose.

It was going to take Norman and Rita at least a year,

maybe longer.

- Precisely. - Come on, Oliver!

Why can't we just-- wait. What are you saying?

- No, you first. - No, you.

Ahem. I was just gonna say

maybe Dr. Kallis will give us an "A" for our homework.

That's what I was thinking.

We might be having...

a violent agreement.

Hi!

Hey!

Look at you! You look wonderful.

Aw. You too!

I was so glad to get your message.

I... I just--

There's so much for us to catch up on,

I just... I wish I had time for more than a cup of coffee.

My wife just called.

I gotta go pick up my kid from pre-school.

You're married? And you have a kid?

Yeah. Yeah.

This is my little buddy.

Three.

Doctor says he's smarter than a six-year-old.

Anyway, let's try and make

the best of the time that we've got.

Yeah, you know, I'd love to,

but I just realized my babysitter

leaves early today, so I gotta rush off soon, too.

Oh, that's too bad. So you're a mom?

Yeah. Little girl.

And you're a dad!

I'm loving it. Can you believe that?

"Crazy, wild Barry" is now a solid citizen?

Well, we all grew up, I guess.

Hey, do you ever see Marlon?

No.

No, he got all serious, too, and he went to college,

and we kinda lost touch after that.

We should try for a reunion some day.

Yeah. Yeah, sure.

Sorry, I-- I do have to leave.

What's that?

Do you remember the mailbox and the alarm clock?

Are you kidding me?

That was our best prank ever. It was your idea!

Well, they found some of those letters,

and this one is from you.

Oh, wow!

Uh...

I forgot about this. Um...

Is this why you called?

Well, I-I didn't think that you'd still--

like, why would you?

It was a long time ago. I-I wasn't really--

There's something that I should've told you

a long time ago.

This letter that you got from me--

I wrote this, but--

...the signature that's missing--

that doesn't say "Love, Barry".

I don't understand.

I wrote this as a joke,

and I signed it "Love, Marlon,"

because he had, like, a major crush on you,

and I was always teasing him about it,

and, uh, when I mailed it, he got pretty upset,

and then, it got trashed, so I figured...

"All's well that ends well," right?

So Barry wrote the letter and signed it from Marlon?

Ouch!

Big ouch.

Oh, it's okay.

I mean, a few days ago, I didn't even know this existed.

It's not like I spent years wondering

if Barry loved me.

So how long are you gonna wonder if Marlon still does?

We're back!

And we have great news.

Oh! Everything went okay with Maria?

Better than okay.

Charley...

I must admit, the consequences of your high-school prank

have yielded one remarkable-- perhaps even miraculous--

development.

Maria's good.

She has a great job that she loves,

and it's placing babies with adoptive parents.

Oh.

And...

...there's a baby due soon

that needs a family...

...and she's looking for a couple

just like you.

What are you doing?

So... Barry isn't so sketchy and wild anymore?

No. He even volunteers for Neighborhood Watch.

Guess I was wrong about that guy.

Did you ever think you were wrong about Oliver?

I've never stopped loving him.

How's therapy going?

Uh, it's, um-- it's going.

"Dark of Night Award-- presented to Joe O'Toole."

Remember how I got that?

Going the extra mile.

Driving through that blizzard to--

...To deliver a wedding dress.

What do you think? Hmm?

So, here's a question for you both.

What is the first moment you knew you'd be together?

I think it was the swing.

I gave her a porch swing

to remind her of a happy memory.

It's in the garage.

I keep meaning to set it up.

And I procrastinate?

I just haven't found the perfect place,

because it's so her, and the house is so--

So "you".

I share that beautiful home--

It's your house, it's not mine.

You share a house with the State Historical Society.

I can't even move a chair!

Or set the clock.

It's a crank!

A hundred-year-old irreplaceable crank.

Oliver.

What's the worst that could happen

if the clock ran down?

Without the dress,

without the crank--

do you believe that you would still be married?

Of course we would!

I take great umbrage at your question.

He says things like that.

Because you know him.

I do.

Mm-hmm. And all that you know--

the history, the habits, the quirks--

did you marry him because of all that,

or in spite of it?

Because I love him.

I love her.

Tell me--

how much time passed between

the first time you said "I love you"

and the day you married?

A few weeks.

Ten weeks, four days.

Ten weeks, four days...

from "I love you" to "forever".

That's no time at all.

But we were ready. We knew what we wanted.

Of course we were.

We're not children.

Love can make children of us all, Oliver.

But children must learn how to grow up.

And lovers must learn how to become husbands and wives.

We have great friends-- really happy friends--

who can write a recommendation.

Mm-hmm.

At some point... when they're even happier.

And my cousin, Spike, is our accountant.

He just sent over our tax returns.

Yeah, I got 'em right here.

Okay, we can expedite this.

And if the mother approves the application--

which I think she will--

we can get you cleared by early next week.

Oh!

There is just one more thing--

and we understand if you feel you can't proceed...

Good morning!

I am ready and I'm even on time.

So how did that feel?

Strange.

Sad.

Guess I've never...

...seen the clock so... ahem, still.

But it'll be fixed.

Soon, I hope.

And so the clock will keep time once again,

but perhaps you won't expect quite so much from it now.

Or from yourself.

No.

How does that feel?

Like... starting over.

Shane?

Well, the dress is gone...

but it's not like I was planning on wearing it ever again.

I just thought I needed to hold onto it.

- To-- - To what?

To remember the happiest day of my life.

So far.

Now, I have one last assignment for you.

I want you each to do something

to surprise each other this week.

Something that leaves behind the old things

and makes way for a new thing.

Two surprises to create one new vision.

I have no idea what you're talking about.

We'll think of something.

Wait. Did you just say our last assignment?

Yes.

This is your last session.

This is not "a marriage in trouble"--

this is a six-month-old marriage.

The honeymoon is over,

and now it's time to get down

to the business of being married.

The good news is--

you've been friends for so long,

you don't need me to save your marriage.

You just needed a little help to get it started.

Sorry.

It's a 9-1-1 from Norman and Rita.

So, this sounds like wonderful news.

Except...?

There's something's wrong, isn't there?

There's a reason

they had trouble finding her a family.

She has a congenital heart condition.

They said she could be in NICU for a few weeks

before we would even take her home.

And then, she'll probably need surgery at some point.

Oh, wow.

So, what are you thinking?

I mean, we don't wanna say no, but...

We just keep asking ourselves

if we have what it takes to help her.

It's a lot to take on.

Well...

perhaps the question is...

...are you worried you're adopting the wrong baby,

or that she's getting the wrong parents?

Because...

we can't imagine anyone better than the two of you...

...to breathe love into a child every day of her life.

She's so tiny!

You can see her-- her little tiny nose.

It-It's right there, on her face.

Oh!

So, when do they need an answer?

Well, I-I think--

I think you already have one.

Then...

I guess we're having a baby.

I think we're having a baby!

Oh, I think I'm gonna cry!

I certainly hope it has been worth all your trouble, Norman.

Yeah. After all this,

it'd be a real bummer

if this turned out to be somebody's gas payment.

Well, I doubt anything could tarnish a day such as this one.

In fact, I believe we should break out the Yoo-Hoo

to celebrate your impending parenthood.

Two babies in the house?

Are you sure we won't be in the way?

Absolutely not!

You and Eleanor are family.

Thank you!

Have you ever thought about calling Marlon?

I mean, I bet he'd be thrilled to hear from you.

I don't know.

It just feels sort of pathetic now, you know?

Calling around, asking guys if they ever had a crush on me.

But Marlon really did have a crush on you!

According to Barry,

but who knows what's really true?

That's my point.

You don't know until you give him a chance.

The truth is,

I used to imagine running into Marlon someday.

Then I had a marriage that lasted about 30 seconds,

and Eleanor-- that's gonna last a lifetime.

So... that chance is gone.

Aww.

She has been fussy for two days, no matter what I do.

Well, when I was little, my mom used to put me

on the tractor and drive me around the commune

until I fell asleep.

- Couldn't hurt to try. - Mm-hmm!

Do you wanna go for a ride with Mommy?

I feel so bad for her.

I have an idea.

Uh-oh...

I think we should find Marlon.

Oh, I don't know.

Charley just seems so down!

She needs something to close this chapter,

one way or the other.

Can't we just order her pizza?

Mrs. Philpott?

It's Maria.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the "Great Mailbox Breach of 2017"

approaches its end.

25 ill-fated missives

were savagely launched into likely oblivion,

yet through the perseverance of this office,

each has been given a second life.

As we prepare to dispatch the last of them,

may we never lose sight

of the high purpose to which we, as Postables,

have been called.

Let's see.

Address is still unreadable.

Ah! Um...

Sorry, I should change her.

Norman?

Well...

it's intact.

Aww.

It's smudged...

I can barely make out the handwriting.

I concur.

Sadly, we...

may have our last letter be unreadable.

It would've been so nice

to be able to have delivered them all.

Norman, are you sure you can't think of something?

Not unless they invent a device to...

decipher poor penmanship.

Hello?

May we help you?

Hi. Yeah.

I'm looking for Charley Reddick. I'm Marlon Carter.

Mr. Carter.

I'm Shane McInerney. We spoke on the phone.

Right! Uh, thank you.

Is she here?

She is.

Charley?

Great.

What is going on, Ms. McInerney?

It's okay.

♪ Ba-bum-bum-bum, a-bum-bum-- ♪

Charley!

Marlon?

It's good to see you.

Um, how did you--?

I got a call

about an old letter that came through here.

Barry wrote it and forged my name.

That's a federal offense, you know.

It's really good to see you.

You too.

I feel bad about Barry's letter.

I'm sorry you had to read it.

- It wasn't your fault. - It's just a shame

that that's the one that survived.

- What? - Yeah, there was another

that, uh--

Sorry, uh...

I think that's it there.

What?

Yeah, I mailed one that day, too,

and it was on green paper-- just like that.

Wait! You wrote that letter?

I did.

- Oh! - To her.

Oh!

I love my job!

Goodness! Perhaps we should deliver that letter?

Oh, yes.

Ahem!

Oh, um--

This must be Eleanor.

Yeah.

Oh, sorry, she's been fussy.

Thank you.

Oh, yeah... this is definitely from you.

You can read that?

She's the only one who's ever been

able to read my handwriting.

Dear Charley--

about an hour ago,

Barry wrote a stupid letter to you,

and signed my name and mailed it.

It's embarrassing.

So, if you open this letter first,

please just throw Barry's away,

but if it's too late and you've already read his,

then... I hope you'll ignore it.

Don't get me wrong-- he's right about me.

I do have feelings for you,

but I'm working on how to say that

in my own way, in my own time,

so please don't feel like you have to answer this.

Just remember--

somebody's always writing about love,

but I think the best love just gets... lived.

I hope I live long enough

to find a way to tell you that someday,

face to face, the way you deserve.

Love, Marlon.

I don't remember exactly what I wrote,

but I haven't forgotten how I felt.

And...

you're supposed to get over your crush,

you know, but...

Aww.

Look how sweet she is.

Finally.

So... I guess,

being a mother and everything...

you don't get out much.

Not much.

I do a lot of take-out.

I love take-out.

He's in law school.

Top 10% of his class,

and he's never missed a car payment.

Solid guy.

So, you must've broke a few rules

to find him that fast, huh?

Does a hacker hack on the Internet?

What do you think that letter said?

Oh, hi.

Enough.

Mm.

Um... Marlon said he'd drive me home.

Do you mind if we order in from Angelo's?

Oh, I--

Oh, I love Angelo's! Best crust in Colorado.

I'll tell him about the cheese!

See?

A happy ending... and pizza.

I know you're upset.

But, Oliver--

I want you to know that I...

I wouldn't have brought Marlon here

if I didn't think

that he was a really nice guy

who genuinely wanted to see Charley again.

Ahem.

I'm not upset.

It's just that...

after all we've learned in therapy,

I still don't understand

your preoccupation with matchmaking.

Of course you do!

I know you,

and you know me.

That's-- That's what we've learned.

I'm a romantic, and you are, too.

But I use laptops, and you use...

Logic.

Mm-hmm.

Not everyone could've navigated

these past few days

the way we have.

Agreed.

Thank you...

for...

going the extra mile.

I would go just about anywhere with you,

Mr. O'Toole.

Mm! Except, right now, I've got to do something.

Uh, so do I.

I'll meet you at the house?

Deal.

Oliver! I'm back!

What on Earth...?

Are you ready to be surprised?

I think I already am.

What is all this?

These are the seashells I collected on that island

the Christmas my grandfather died,

and I wondered if I'd ever be happy again.

That's the pen you borrowed and wouldn't return.

You used it to draw--

...A picture of what jazz looks like

on the night we first kissed.

I kept that... right here,

for months...

until you came back to me.

And that I did.

And the letter opener I gave you for your birthday.

Mm-hmm.

And...

The last rose of summer.

Did I marry a packrat?

You married a man

who believes that...

everything you touch in his life

becomes a rare and sacred thing.

But it would mean nothing

if I didn't have you to share it with.

Anywhere...

any place...

and any old home.

Or, perhaps...

in a new one?

It seems the State Historical Society

is willing to accept the O'Toole Mansion

as the site of

the Colorado Museum of Postal History.

I'm just hoping, uh, you're willing

to consider the possibility of moving?

Because, um...

Because I wanna start over.

Shane.

Will you marry me...

all over again?

"Love is patient and kind.

Love bears all things,

hopes all things,

endures all..."

I have always been in love with you.

Always.

And I have thanked God every day that you came into my life.

But I realize now

that having you in my life

doesn't mean expecting you

to change and fit into it.

I'm asking you

to forgive me.

And I'm asking you...

to build a new life with me.

Not mine.

Not yours.

But ours.

Will you do that?

If you'll forgive me for expecting the same thing.

I absolutely will.

We've both lived alone for so long, and...

...we are so very much ourselves.

But...

...you are the only man

that I could ever live with and truly be myself with.

And, yes, I ended that with a preposition.

Wherever we live...

...you, Oliver, are my home.

And I am yours.

This was quite the surprise.

Well, I guess I have a few left in me.

This is gonna be hard to top.

Oh, there's no pressure, of course.

Trust me.

I've got this.

Oh?

You know...

we'll have to find a new hiding place for this

when we move it to the new house.

Oh, you think so?

Some place high, where...

...she can't reach it.

"She"?

Or he.

We'll know in a few weeks, probably.

Plenty of time to find a spot for that swing.

Oh, it'll be great.

It'll be like a rocking chair built for two.

Or...

...actually...

three.

No!

Surprise.

Oh, my god!

Really?

Really!

Oh, my God!