Mike knocks on Susan's door. After nervously asking who it is, she unlocks the door and shoots some darting looks over Mike's shoulder like a scared rabbit: she's "on the lookout for Edie." Turns out, Susan has nothing to worry about: nice Mike paid off Oliver PI because "people would just get hurt if [the news about Susan and Karl] got out." Susan is pleased. Mike leaves, and Susan watches him go with eyes full of hearts. Then she spots the mailman rolling up the street, and she leaps into action: she needs to figure out some way to retrieve that letter she wrote to Edie! (You know, assuming that it's even getting delivered today.) She frantically looks around her kitchen for inspiration. Then she spots the jug of sun tea warming on her windowsill. She fills up a pitcher, rushes outside, and catches the mailman just as he's dropping off her mail. "Hey there!" she shouts with insane glee. "You look thirsty!"

Cut to Susan and mailman sitting at her table, knocking back iced teas. The mailman is played by Michael Hagerty, who's like an amalgam of Cliff and Norm from Cheers (Cliff's voice + Norm's girth). Susan small-talks about how crazy it is that they don't know each other better, considering that they see each other every day: "How long have you been delivering my mail, for god's sake?" Mailman: "Three and a half weeks." Ha. Susan, with Susan's patented brunette blondeness: "Really? It seems...longer." She fills the embarrassed silence by offering him more tea, but he claims to already be so full that he's "sloshing." Susan laughs and laughs at this description like this man is the funniest, handsomest mailman ever. Then she offers the use of her bathroom. But Susan keeps pushing the offer, saying how much more preferable her facilities are over "Mrs. McCluskey's hydrangeas." So finally, he relents and agrees to use her toilet. Susan: "Great! Oh, the one down here's broken. You can use the one upstairs; it's right off my bedroom." She holds his gaze steadily, her face a gushing wall of friendliness that stops just shy of winking. And the "Oh, this poor lonely lady wants it BAD" music swells. Now she's done it! Again. The mailman gleefully heads upstairs, and Susan springs into action. She digs right into his bag, and there it is! She sighs in huge, huge relief; then she sticks the letter in with her stack of mail. I would have burned it, or shredded it, or put it down the garbage disposal, but that's just me...maybe she was figuring that if the mailman happened to spot it there later, she could just pretend it was just misrouted?