Thanks to the readers who used the word “brave” to describe me — but many of you also pointed out that I know nothing about him. Yes, he’s my postman, and he wears a cute blue uniform. But I don’t even know his name. It was Crazy Computer Dad who cautioned me to “be nice because this guy handles your mail.”

The day after I handing him my note, I do what most of us do to keep the wheels turning. At dawn, I spooned coffee into the percolator, and then perched at my computer. Mae was up, milk and cereal were served, I tried to untangle her knots , and we were off. She biked to school and I ran behind her. I was back at my desk, and the day moved on, predicable and ordinary.

I’d taken a chance and crossed the line. I’d said, “I want to be wanted.”

I tried not to scold myself. I reread 7th grade Reading Standards for my current gig. Around noon, I got up to dry a load of laundry. When I came back to my desk, there was a message. Actually, there were two messages.

Message No. 1:

“Hi Rachel, this is Marco.” (Not his real name, but he has a lovely name, from a Shakespeare play, and a heavenly voice.) “We briefly met at the post office yesterday (he’s laughing). I would love to hear from you, so give me a call. All right, bye bye.”

Message No. 2:

Laughing again, “I’m sorry, I didn’t leave my number–”

I thought about waiting before I called him back. But I’ve never played games like that.

When he picked up on the second ring, I heard lots of beeping in the background. “Uh, sorry, did I reach you at work?”

“No, I’m at the grocery store,” he said. “I’m getting a bowl of chile to warm up my insides.”

Did you just say that you need to warm up your insides? Excuse me while I get a hold of myself–

“Thanks for calling me,” I said. “I promise, I’m not a stalker.”

He laughed. “Oh, no, I didn’t think that.”

I sighed, relieved.

“I couldn’t open your letter until after I left work,” he said. ” Or, it would look like I was opening someone’s mail–”

Yes, that had crossed my mind.

“It made my day,” he added. “I was flattered.”

If you could’ve seen my huge smile–

“Whew,” I said, “I was already thinking that I’d have to change my PO Box.”

“No!” he said.

“Well, I’m already going to a basketball game on Valentine’s Day. But I’d like to see you before that. Would that work?”

Would that work?… It just so happens that recently, my mom planned to take Mae to dinner and a movie this weekend.

“I’m free on Saturday,” I said.

He said that he’s going to a youth poetry event (poetry!). He’ll call me after it ends.

I need your help again:

I’m going to offer to take him out to dinner (and I’ll pay, because I’m the one who did the asking out). Do you agree?

What do you think about a first date kiss? (Just writing that makes me queasy again.) I don’t think it’s a good idea–