Valentine Love Story

“Are you going to the gym?” 
Stuart asks with a dubious face 
as he pauses his breakfast and gazes 
through the window 
at the icy wonderland outside. 

“I am,” I say as I prepare my own breakfast. 
He thumps down the basement stairs. 
I hear the rattle of cans, tools, buckets. 
Here he is, donning the long coat 
I bought him to have something nice 
to wear when we go out—but he never does. 
Today it’s covering his at home attire. 
He’s wearing boots and holding the stiff-bristle broom.
His warm Ravens cap (a favorite gift from Laura) covers his spare gray curls.
He heads outside. 

I finish my cereal cake and peanut butter. 
Now he’s at the table, continuing his breakfast,
interrupted by his previous activities. 

I bundle against the cold. 
“Bye, Hon,” I say as open the front door. 
“Be careful, Babe,” he replies. 

And there, in front of me 
is the mohair runner covering the icy steps. 
The porch has been swept. 
Kitty litter lines the walkway from the steps 
to my car. 

I love my sweetheart.

Please leave your comments below. 

Read more by Linda Miller.