“You remember the time we did it in your dad’s pickup?” she asked, climbing onto the bed.
“Y-e-es,” he said slowly, with a wicked grin. “Why?”
“Oh, I was just thinking, maybe the next time you’re on patrol in that new Jeep, you should pick me up and we could...initiate it.”
“Hell, yes!” he said, sliding under the covers with her. She squealed and giggled as he pulled her against him. “Jeanie Wykowski,” he said, nuzzling her face, “I almost forgot what a naughty girl you can be.”
Afterward, they dressed quickly, in case the boys came back inside, and sprawled out on the bed together.
“It’s too bad you got stuck working tonight,” Jean said.
“Yeah, I know.” Ron sat up suddenly. “Hey, I’ve got a little something for you to keep with you while I’m at work.” He was grinning now, going to his chest of drawers, removing a small box from the top drawer.
“What do you mean?” Jean also sat up as he came back to the bed.
“I can’t believe I almost forgot this. I’ve had it a while now. Here.” He offered her the small box. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
She didn’t know what to expect as she flipped open the top, but what was inside was something she never expected Ron to give her. It was a three-stone diamond ring--with diamonds far bigger than they could afford.
“Ron, it’s beautiful, but it must have cost a fortune.” She was staring at it, unsure whether she should even remove it from the box.
“Well, I saved up for it out of all the overtime I’ve been getting. Besides, I know the microwave wasn’t really a romantic Christmas gift, and I’ve wanted to give you something nice like this for a long time. Do you like it?”
“Yes,” she admitted, smiling into Ron’s hopeful face. She carefully pulled the ring from the foam in the box and slipped it onto the ring finger of her right hand. It fit perfectly. “Wow,” she said, holding out her hand. “It’s so sparkly.”
“The center stone is a half carat and the side stones are quarter carats. I wanted to get you a ring with three stones for the past, the present, and the future.” He looked so proud of himself that she dared not laugh at his repetition of the cheesy marketing pitch.
“Honey, it’s really, really beautiful,” she said, and kissed him. “I think it’s the best Valentine’s Day present yet. But I don’t have anything for you,” she said, frowning. “I didn’t think we were doing anything this year….”
“Oh, don’t worry. You can give me my Valentine’s present a little late.”
Ron was grinning suggestively. Jean raised her eyebrows. “You look as though you already have a present in mind.”
“Indeed I do,” he said, pulling her back down on the bed to cuddle. “Actually, it was your idea.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah. I want to go for a ride in the new Jeep with you.”
~~~
By mid-afternoon Saturday, Daisy was a wreck.
For more than two hours, she had been looking out the front window every few minutes, checking to see whether the mailman had come. She was wearing her snow boots and hooded parka, ready to dash outside the moment he arrived. He usually reached her house by one-thirty, but it was after three o’clock and he had yet to show up.
Maybe, just maybe, he would bring a valentine for her this year.
Maybe he had already delivered to the houses along her street. Maybe she had missed him and there had been no mail at all for her.
Daisy had been on that dreadful emotional roller-coaster all afternoon, cycling from the memory of bitter disappointment from years with no valentines to fervent hope at the thought that perhaps this year would be different. Smudgie sensed that something was bothering her. He sat on the sofa, whining occasionally, and watched her with a worried expression as she paced from one end of her mobile home to the other.
With an impatient sigh, Daisy peered again out her living room window. Even the sun hadn’t bothered to come out. The sky was dingy and cold and heavy. Although she hadn’t conjured any winter weather in the last few days, it looked like they were in for another snowstorm.
She let go of the curtain and felt a light puff of air on her face as it fell back across the window. Just as she turned to resume her pacing, a shadow became visible through the curtain. It stopped in front of her house. Daisy zipped up her parka and threw open the front door.
Finally!
Taking care not to slip, she scooted down her walkway to the mailbox. The postman was only two houses down the road by the time she reached it. She took a deep breath, pulled down the squeaky mailbox door, and plunged her hand inside.
She pulled out a glossy sheet of Pizza Hut coupons. There was nothing else inside.
Daisy sniffed, glanced around to see if anyone was watching her. A hard knot was forming in the pit of her stomach. Her chin quivered. She leaned back against the mailbox for support, but her feet slipped out from under her. Daisy fell with a
thud
into the dirty snow piled from plows along the road.
The indignity of her situation was too much. She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut, sobbing the low, miserable heaves of a devastated soul. It was a long time before she felt the sting of tears freezing on her cheeks and heard her neighbor’s hound dog baying almost in unison with her cries.
When she finally collected herself and trudged back to her trailer, Smudgie met her at the door and followed her into the kitchen. He whined again and she scooped him up into her arms. “Oh, Smudgie,” she whispered into his gray fur, “Why doesn’t anybody love us?”
Daisy set Smudgie on his favorite kitchen chair, removed her parka, and tore off a paper towel to dry her eyes. She tried to be friendly and sociable with her neighbors and other folks in town. The thought of hurting anyone, shunning anyone, had never occurred to her, and she wondered why no one, except for Father O’Brien, was ever friendly toward her. She was even nice to Officer Underwood, although she didn’t care for him one bit. No, Sirree, Bob, she would never like anyone who had been mean to Smudgie.
She smoothed the fur on the little dog’s head and wondered how she could have even thought that someone might remember her on Valentine’s Day. Except for Smudgie and Father O’Brien, she hadn’t any real friends, much less anybody who was more than a friend. She wondered if it would always be that way.
A single bottle of bright red liquid sat on Daisy’s countertop. It was the only bottle of her love potion that she hadn’t managed to sell. Of course, she wouldn’t let it go to waste. She looked at it for a moment before she twisted off the cap. She poured a bit into a saucer for Smudgie and took a drink of it herself. Tiny snowflakes began to drift downward from the sky outside. She swallowed, closed her eyes, took another sip.
There was always next year.
She summoned every bit of her magical power and hoped the familiar hope that next year would be different.
~~~
Claudia was determined that everything be perfect.
Her hair was under control. She was wearing her favorite dress slacks with a new, low-cut mauve sweater. Beneath that, she wore a new lacy bra and matching thong underwear. This would be her first romantic date, after which there might be a very real possibility of finally, finally being with a man for the first time. She wondered what it would be like, if it happened.
But no matter. She resolved not to worry about it and to enjoy the evening. She glanced over at Kyle sitting behind the wheel as they drove into Rutland. He was squinting as snowflakes peppered the windshield like powdery moths, slowing the pickup to turn into the parking lot of the King’s Lodge.
It was a cozy restaurant, with French provincial styling on the outside and crackling fireplaces inside. The hostess checked their coats and showed them to a small, out-of-the-way table in the dining room.
“This place looks wonderful,” Claudia said once they were seated. While Kyle ordered a bottle of wine, she looked up at the dark-stained beams running across the ceiling and the tables spaced nicely to allow for private conversation. A little candle lamp glowed on each table. Other than the fireplaces and a few soft overhead fixtures, the candle lamps provided the only illumination.
“It does,” Kyle agreed. “I haven’t been here before, but I’ve heard it’s got good food and the nicest atmosphere in Rutland.” He grinned across the table at her. “Given his usual taste, I’m surprised ol’ Leroy even suggested it to you.”
“I’m just glad I’m not here with him,” Claudia said. “He definitely would’ve ruined the atmosphere.” She laughed as Kyle’s brown eyes twinkled at her. It occurred to her that she was
flirting
, and it felt perfectly natural.
“So, I’m curious. What exactly did he say to you on the phone?” Kyle asked. The waiter returned with a bottle of Merlot and poured a glass for each of them.
Claudia repeated the conversation with Leroy as best she could remember. Kyle just shook his head and chuckled. “One bad pickup line after another,” he said. “Well, now you understand why he can’t get women to go for him.”
“Yeah. But I think I pretty much discouraged him. And I told the truth--I did already have a date.” Claudia batted her eyelashes at Kyle over the top of her menu.
“Hmmm.” Kyle smiled at her again, looking proud of himself.
As Kyle focused on his own menu, Claudia discreetly studied him. She wasn’t so nervous, and not nearly as flustered as she had felt at the Pizza Hut. He was wearing a thick, oatmeal-colored sweater with a crew neck. She noticed the way his square chin curved into his clean-shaven jaw, how his dark hair was cut closer at the temple. The light from the flickering candle lamp cast moving shadows that played across his face and hands.
She especially liked his hands. His palms and fingers were well-proportioned. They were neither too big nor too small, and he kept his nails neatly trimmed. The silver band of his wristwatch peeked out from under his left sleeve and sparkled in the candlelight as he casually tapped his fingertips on the table. She watched the outline of the tendons on the back of his hand that extended from his wrist to his knuckles. Kyle’s were strong, capable hands, the type that could keep a vice-like grip on someone under arrest or gently wipe away a little girl’s tears. She wanted him to touch her with those hands.
The waiter arrived to take their order, and Claudia hoped that the dim light would disguise her blushing.
Claudia discovered that the food wasn’t just good--it was unbelievable. Having decided to make an exception and eat as she pleased, she helped herself to the hot bread the waiter brought, smearing it with the heavenly shallot butter that accompanied it. She ordered salmon with sorrel sauce, rice pilaf, and baby peas. Kyle opted for a New York strip steak and baked potato, with a side of asparagus. They decided to split a piece of pyramid cake for dessert, and this was something out of Claudia’s wildest, most fattening cravings--a four-layered, triangular, dark chocolate sin with custard between each layer. The top two angular sides of the cake were covered in rich icing and thin, curled shavings of chocolate.
“I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten like that,” Claudia said as they put on their coats.
“Yeah,” Kyle said, groaning. “I feel like I’m in a food coma.”
“A what?” Claudia said, laughing, even though she’d heard him perfectly well. It was such a clever, funny description.
“A food coma. You know, when you’re so stuffed that you can’t think,” Kyle explained. “Like you just want to sack out on the sofa.”
“And become a couch potato,” Claudia said, still giggling. “Oh, I hope I don’t fall asleep during the movie.”
Kyle opened the heavy wooden door to the parking lot and they were accosted by sharp wind and whirling snow. What had been lazy flurries only a few hours ago had become a major snowstorm. Already, the cars in the lot were covered.
“Let’s run for it,” Kyle said, grabbing her hand. At the pickup truck, he helped Claudia inside and started the engine before shutting the door to clear the windows.
“I didn’t hear anything on the weather about a storm,” Claudia said once he had joined her.
“Me neither,” he said. “It doesn’t look good, though. If we stay for a movie and this keeps up, we might have trouble getting back. What do you say we leave now and stop to rent a movie instead? Rowen’s at a sleepover tonight, so it’d just be us. And the cat.”
“Fine by me,” Claudia said, but inside, she was euphoric. Whether the euphoria was caused by the warm buzz from the Merlot or her raging attraction to him, she didn’t know. And she didn’t care.
After a quick stop at the local movie rental store, they arrived at Kyle’s apartment. It wasn’t fancy by any means, but it was clean and neat and nicely decorated. As they came in, she saw a large Siamese cat slink away down the hall.
“Would you like some coffee?” he asked. “I’ve got decaf.”
“Sure. Um, could I use your bathroom?”
“Just down the hall on your left. I’ll start the coffee and set up the movie.”
She didn’t really have to use the restroom--she only wanted a moment alone to think. She stood quietly in front of the mirror. Through the door, she could hear the noise of the coffee grinder. It was obvious to her where tonight could lead, if she wanted it to. And she did want it to, desperately. But now, she was starting to think that maybe she shouldn’t. A part of her felt that it was too soon. For a few seconds, she looked into her own eyes, noticing the enthusiasm and indecision they held.
And then the lights went off.
She groped around for the doorknob, found it, and walked with little steps into the hallway.
“Kyle?”
“In here.” He was still in the kitchen but now digging through a drawer. “I’ve got a flashlight somewhere. The whole street’s black.”
She felt along the wall until she came to the armrest of the couch. A faint beam of light shone from the kitchen, and she followed it. When she got there, one working flashlight was lit on the counter, and Kyle was fiddling with a second.