All language subtitles for Signed.Sealed.Delivered.A.Tale.of.Three.Letters.2024

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♪ 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!