Winter Season

Are violets really blue?

There was an envelope attached to his front door. There was a picture of her house. The back read:

Roses are red.

Are violets really blue?

Come on over,

something is waiting for you.

On her front door was another envelope. The picture was of her back porch. The back read:

It’s getting dark,

which means it’s getting colder.

Follow my clue,

you might smolder.

What was she up to? He smiled as he walked around the house to her back door. There was another envelope. Inside was a picture of the lake. He almost fell down the steps as he ran to his vehicle.

The first thing he noticed when he got to the lake was her jeep. In all the excitement, he hadn’t paid attention that it wasn’t parked in her driveway. She got out as he did. “Come here my dear.” He did. She opened the back door laying a rubber mat on the ground. “I’ll take your coat.” With wonderment, he gave her the knee length trench coat he wore to work. She gave him the everyday coat that he kept behind the door. “Your gloves.” He was full of curiosity. This was exciting. She pulled out a pair of boots he kept by the door. He slipped off his dress shoes. That’s what the rubber mat was for. So he wouldn’t get his feet muddy changing shoes. Then she gave him a thicker pair of gloves, boggin, and a scarf.

He followed her down to the lake where she had a camp fire going. Stew cooking over the flame. What looked like a sleeping bag was laying on the ground to sit on. She had thought of everything. Even some daisies in a vase. He wanted to cry but was afraid his tears would freeze.

“This is nice.” He was smiling from ear to ear.

“Yeah.” She clapped.

They sat there in the cold, under the stars, eating, talking. “This is so nice.” He hugged her up.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She had changed into her p.j.s, when there came a knock at her door. “Come in.” Oscar just stood there for a moment. “What’s wrong?” Concern filled her voice.

He took off his coat. “Reach your hand into my pocket.”

“Which one?” She asked playfully.

“I’m not gonna tell.”

She watched his face has she slid her hand into his pocket. He wanted so badly for her to touch him. But she was doing everything she could not too. The deeper she got, he closed his eyes. She whispered close to his ear. “There’s nothing in that pocket.”

“Guess you’d better try the other one.” His mouth was dry.

She did the same thing. Slowly, lowering her hand. Deliberately not touching him. When he felt her touch the box he said, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“O, it’s beautiful.” Big tears welled up in her eyes. She had never really gotten a Valentine present before. “Put it on me.”

It was his pleasure. He took his time. After he fixed the necklace, he trailed his hands across her shoulders and down her arms.

The last thing he wanted to do was go home. “Will you sit on the couch with me and talk ?”

For a moment, she thought he was slipping back into that place.

They sat down. Only one of the lamps was on. Esther was; before he interrupted, going to bed. He sat down first opening his arms for her. She slid into place, snuggling into her favorite spot.

“Esther,” he whispered. A wave of nausea over took him. He was going to be sick.

“Yes dear,” she replied.

Those voices inside him were fighting. With a deep breath for courage here it came, “will you marry me?”

She didn’t move. Which terrified him. You shouldn’t have said it. But you did. Fool.

Dear God, Esther prayed, let me get this right. “Oscar, I’m not saying no. I’m saying not now. Not until the thing I can’t talk about is resolved. If you are willing to wait, I would be honored to be your wife,” she paused. “Someday.”

He hugged her up, “I’ll wait.”

“It might take years.” Her voice cracked.

“I’ll wait.”

Winter Season