Surprise Surprise

This is the Wordsmiths challenge. The challenge is to finish the default story as shown here in red. My ending is below the picture.

A loud rapping at the door awoke me from a deep dreamy sleep. It was early, too early to be awake, and certainly too early to be out in the streets pounding on doors. I thought that there must be some emergency in town and ran to the door to find out whatever news there was from whoever was there. Much to my surprise, there was no-one at the door ready to identify themselves and their message, and yet a package with my name on it had been left at the door. It was a most curious circumstance, and yet I saw no real harm in it, because secret gift giving was the hallmark of the holiday season. I myself had delivered many a gift in that manner over the years. The package was heavier than it should have been from its size, and once I had it indoors I eagerly opened it to find out what it was and who had sent it. Alas, there was no identification of the giver, and more's the pity because what was inside was a most remarkable carved wood box, worked with figures of animals and dragons all over, in a magnificent shade of red. Whoever sent it to me must have been a prankster, though, because I could see no way into the box, no clasp or lock announced itself, no hinge or platen presented itself as a means to the inside. I was locked out, and most frustrated by this unfortunate turn of events.

Bad enough to be wrested from my slumber, but to be faced with a bona fide mystery is just about as much as a body should be forced to bear. Sleep is now a dream. Not much left to do but to dig in to get to the bottom of this conundrum. But, first things first. Food.

I leave the box on the hall table and head for the kitchen. I need to fix a meal. A meal fit for a queen. Hey! Queen. Maybe this box is from Sharia. She does stuff like this all the time. As I grab the eggs, butter, milk, onions, spinach and olives the Sharia angle intensifies. Then fizzles. Sharia’s in Egypt. The box didn’t look Egyptian. It looks more like Asia.

Cooking always calms. Heavy, there is heft. It doesn’t seem to come from the box. The wood, not that I know anything about wood, but the wood seems delicate. The weight must be from the contents. What could it be inside and how am I going to get there? More importantly, who left it at my door? Ahh, this omelet looks perfect.

The omelet, muffins, juice and coffee make a perfect thinking feast. I decide to go get the box so I could study it while I eat. Padding back through the house, I stop mid-stride when I’m struck by the fact that the box is not on the table. Not on the table? Now where did it go? How did it go? I continue on, get down to look underneath the table. No. Not there. I look all around the table, even open the door and look outside. No. Not anywhere. What in the hell is going on?

I hear a noise, coming from the bedroom. What? Who? How? I hear myself stammering. Just then, Neta peeks out from the doorway. The look in her eye says, "come here". How does she do that?

Walking towards her, I start to ask, without the stammer, what? And how? She leads me further into the bedroom and hands me the box. She says, "I thought I’d help you open your gift." I tried to explain that I didn’t see anyway in the box and that I had breakfast on the table. We could eat, while we figured a way inside. I was trying to explain this through a series of the deepest, wettest kisses I’d experienced in quite some time. I still had the box in my hands so things progressed somewhat awkwardly.

"Neta", I manage just as I was dropping the box, "could we maybe...?"
She grabbed the box, settling it on the bed. Neta sat me next to the box and proceeded to show me that yes, we could.

The next afternoon, just minutes after I heard front door lock the click, I realized we’d never had the omelet and I was starving.

Smiling on my way to the kitchen, I saw that Neta had taken the box.