For several weeks he has asked, "What do you want for Valentine's Day?"
"Nothing, really. Just some little romantic thing," I say.
"What?" he asks, pleading for a better answer.
Since I can't give him a concrete answer, he takes me shopping.
He buys be two fleece vests and a new knit top.
Then, on Monday, he says, "I must slip away for a bit. I have some things I must do."
This morning, after he had
fed the dog,
made the coffee,
fetched the papers,
I finally descended the stairs
ready to greet my dear Valentine and the day.
He hadn't noticed my gift to him on the chest in the living room.
"Oh, I was just getting ready to put your gift together," he says after opening his.
He then slipped out to the car, and walked in the house with a sweet, boyish smile on his face.
He carried a little romantic thing in his hands:
A package of cookies from the Cookie Lady
and a beautiful unique card.
"I thought the card was different and very nice," he says.
"Yes, it is very nice, and romantic," I say.