Olive You

“I don’t like Valentine’s Day.” He said. “I know you don’t. How about we don’t worry about the day. Instead we will do whatever we want. No plans. Just what feels right.”

We slept in. No obligations that day. We ate breakfast. Probably pancakes. I love pancakes.

The morning is fuzzy. I think we went to church. Maybe we did chores. Maybe both.

Eventually we made it to DSW. I had shoes to return. I left with three more pairs.

On the way out of the mall the smell of pizza filled the air. We stopped for a slice and shared a soda. Probably sprite. He likes sprite.

“I want to take you somewhere.” “Ok. Let’s go.” We circled around the block and parked in front of a grocery store. Not any grocery store. A fancy one. It was filled with speciality foods. We bought champagne. We bought other food too. Maybe fresh bread and gourmet cheese.

On the drive home we decided to watch a movie. But first we stopped at Ralph’s. “I really want some olives.” He smiled, not at all surprised by my sudden urge, “that sounds great.”

Fresh bread, cheese, olives, and champagne in hand we watched a movie. Something on Netflix. The Science of Sleep? When it was over I said, “what did you think?” He stared pensively at the screen, “I need to watch it again.” I smiled. He always said that.

The details may be fuzzy and will probably continue to fade but I won’t forget the feeling I had that day. I was happy. Content. In love. I was present in the moment and didn’t worry about the course. It was the best kind of Valentine’s Day.