Joanne wiped the betraying tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. She had fought hard to keep her emotions hidden from the other typists. From her desk in the back, she had to endure the other women fawning over their gifts as they were delivered one by one. As the clock neared the end of her shift, Joanne's desk still sat undecorated with anything to celebrate Valentine's Day.
"It's a stupid holiday anyway," she mumbled under her breath. "Too commercialized for me and Darren."
"Maybe he's got a bit surprise planned for you after work, Jo."
Joanne turned and saw that her best friend and coworker, Laura, stood behind next to Joanne's desk. She felt the tears sting her eyes. Shaking her head, she replied softly, "No, more than likely he's forgotten. I mean, we've been together for nearly two decades. You'd think I'd learn by now."
Laura smiled but couldn't chase away the sadness her friend was feeling deep inside. "You don't want to be like the others anyway. They've had guy after guy and only complain that they can't find someone who'd be there when they're not dressed to the nines. Darren loves you, Jo. He'd walk through fire for you."
Sighing heavily, Joanne glanced at her watch. Shift was finally over bringing an end to the torture of high pitched giggles and fake fawning over flowers and candy. Joanne stood from her desk, scooped up her purse, and pulled her coat from the back of the chair.
As she slipped into it, Joanne forced herself to smile. "You're right, Laura. I'm going to not let this day get to me until I see what he's got planned at home."
"That's my girl," replied Laura. She gave Joanne a quick hug. "It'll be fine."
Joanne simply nodded and made her way out of the building. She quickened her pace as she walked through the parking garage. Maybe Darren really did have something planned for her at home. The drive home sped by as her mind raced from thought to thought. Her excitement grew making her anxious as she slipped her key into the front door. The smile on her lips died as she opened the door and saw Darren asleep on the couch.
Slamming the front door, Joanne marched over to the couch and tossed her purse onto Darren's stomach. As he bolted awake, she laid into him. "How could you forget? How could you make me the laughingstock of the typists?"
"Huh? What?" he asked as he pushed the purse off of him and onto the floor. "What are you talking about, Jo?"
"Valentine's Day, you idiot! The day I was sure you wouldn't forget as it's been advertised since Christmas!" Joanne felt the tears again but this time she didn't stop them. They flowed freely down her cheeks.
Darren sat stunned on the couch. His surprise at her tears was the least of what he was feeling. Shame at having forgotten her ate at his heart. He could only imagine how she got through the day. He felt like a bum for not sending something at the very least. Darren rose from the couch and started to take his wife into his arms when she backed away.
"No, don't touch me. I'm sleeping in the guest room until you can explain to me why you think about things. It's been years since you've done anything for me that was romantic. Even when I send you little emails or write notes and leave them in your lunchbox, you don't do the same. Hell, even a single flower now and then would mean something."
"Jo, I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you. I swear."
She grabbed her purse and started toward the stairs. Turning back to face him one more time, she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "We'll see."
The next morning, Joanne pushed the covers from her and sat straight in the guest bed. Though she had slept like a rock, she felt horrible about the way she had yelled at Darren but wasn't ready to forgive him just yet. As she sighed, she stood and stretched her arms over her head. Still wearing her old, ratty long t-shirt as a nightgown, Joanne opened the bedroom door. When she stepped over the threshold, she felt something weird underfoot.
Looking down, she gasped in surprise. The hallway was littered with flower petals. She could make out rose petals but they weren't the only ones. Scattered among the roses, she could see petals from tulips, carnations and lilies -- her favorite flowers. Joanne tenderly stepped along the hallway until she reached the bathroom.
She half expected the room to be decked out when she opened the door. Instead the bathroom looked as it always did with one exception. A note had been taped to the mirror with her name on it. After she did her morning routine, Joanne gingerly took the note from the mirror and opened it. Inside were instructions to dress in jeans and a sweatshirt and then go out to the backyard. It was signed with a small heart and the letter 'D'.
Her interest piqued, Joanne dropped the note into the sink and headed to the bedroom to change. She could feel the excitement and anticipation growing inside her. While she slipped the sweatshirt over her head, doubt stilled her hands. How could she be so sure that he had something planned? Maybe he just needed help in the yard.
Joanne sat on the bed, heavy with mixed emotions. For 18 years, she had tried time and again to get Darren to open up to her, be romantic in the small ways. She didn't need big fanfare but every now and then, she wanted to be swept off her feet. After taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Joanne finished dressing before walking downstairs. She didn't stop moving until she reached the backdoor.
Looking into the large backyard, Joanne noticed a canopy tent had been put together near the tarp covered pool. Of course, it was cold during February but thankfully no snow covered the ground. Joanne opened the door, slipped outside and closed the door behind her. She walked over to the tent pulling aside one of the flaps.
"Oh my," she said with a stunned look upon her face. "Oh, Darren."
