Happy Valentine's Day

Ruffle

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HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY

Okay, so Valentine’s Day was over a month ago. It’s only a date on the calendar. Technically it’s not a Valentine present anyway. That’s just when I happened to think of it. What am I gonna do, give him flowers or chocolates? I snort at the thought. Yeah, right. Or how about a lacy card with a Cupid on it? That’d probably make him launch into a lecture on the cultural significance of the evolution of an ancient Roman god into a Hallmark marketing phenomenon. If he didn’t keel over laughing first.

I turn over another shovel of earth. I couldn’t act on my idea right away. You can’t plant a tree in Colorado in February. The ground’s too frozen to dig, and the temperature’s too cold for a sapling to survive. Spring’s finally here, though, and so’s my gift. It doesn’t matter what day it is. I just want to show Daniel he has my heart. Hell, he is my heart.

He’s also six feet of walking curiosity which has found its way over to the hole I’ve finished digging.

“What’s that, Jack?”

I set the sapling carefully in the center and begin shifting dirt back in around it.

“It’s a tree, Daniel. We see them growing on practically every planet we gate to, so I kinda thought you’d recognize one by now.”

A cursory purse of his lips acknowledges my attempt at a joke. “I know it’s a tree, Jack. I just meant…” He gestures around the yard to the profusion of budding green. “You have so many. I’m surprised you’re adding another.”

“This one’s different from the rest. This is a chestnut tree.”

“A ches…” Trailing off he shoots me a startled look, which transforms into a rapt study of the tree. He holds out a tentative finger to touch a tiny leaf.

I know he’s remembering. He told me the story last month when we were hiking through a forest on P2C-553. I was making a simple observation – despite what Daniel insists, it could not in any way be called grousing – that it seemed like the trees would never end, when he explained why he never takes them for granted.

“I wasn’t around trees much when I was little. There weren’t a lot of trees in the Egyptian desert, and not many more in New York City. So it seemed like such a special, exotic thing when I saw it at my first foster home – a big, old chestnut tree. The branches were low and leafy, the perfect refuge. I’d sit up there for hours.It was an ideal place to think, to dream, to get away from… well, just to get away.” He broke off, gazing wistfully at the evergreens surrounding us. “You don’t see many chestnut trees anymore.”

I decided then and there Daniel would get to see one whenever he liked. I need another tree in my yard like he needs another degree – nice in their way, but after the first few all those letters after his name tend to be superfluous – but Daniel doesn’t have many good memories from his childhood. If he wants a chestnut tree, I’ll give him a chestnut tree. It’s a good gift – something to put down roots and take a permanent place in my home.

“It’s so young,” he says now softly. “It’ll take years to grow.”

I finish packing the soil around the roots and stand up. “That’s okay, we’ve got time to watch it. I’m not going anywhere.” I give him a direct look. “Are you?”

Daniel returns my look, a myriad of expressions chasing each other across those expressive eyes before settling into a shining smile. “No.” A small shake of his head emphasizes his answer. “I’m not.”

I lay my arm gently across his shoulders, and we stand admiring the little tree together. Happy Valentine’s Day, Daniel.

THE END

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