A Roger E. Moore "Iron Chef" ficlet.
"Janie - there's a delivery for you."
Jane's voice drifted down the stairs. "What?"
"A delivery. You have to sign for it."
She could see the delivery boy, and what he was delivering, from the landing. She came downstairs slowly, though not reluctantly. Trent smirked as he watched her walk in a daze, knowing what was going on in her mind. They didn't have any secrets from each other and he knew that she'd never gotten a Valentines day gift before, even in grade school when the kids were made to exchange cards.
"Yeah. Where do I sign?"
He watched as she signed the list, enjoying her discomfort.
She closed the door, staring in disbelief at the dozen red roses and the heart-shaped box of candy wrapped in clear cellophane with tiny white hearts printed on it.
"Wow. Corny. Aren't you going to see who it's from?" His face was hurting. It had been a long time since he'd smiled so much. He thought that he was probably enjoying this more than she was.
"No. It's private!" She turned and grinned at him, blushing.
He smiled back at her, knowing that there was only one person who it could have been from.
"Here. You can have some candy," she said, handing him the box.
He removed the ribbon and opened the lid. "Uh, Janie, these look pretty special," he said, showing her the label under the lid.
"Prix d'Amour hand-made Belgian Truffles! Wow." She picked one up and put it on her tongue. It started to melt immediately, the rich chocolate flavour exploding in her mouth. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. "Damn, Trent, you've got to try one of these,"
He took one and put it in his mouth. His eyes widened. "Somebody loves you, Janey!"
She smiled again and smelled the roses.
He was too polite to mention it, but he noticed that a little moisture had gathered in her eyes.
She took the flowers into the kitchen and put them down on the table. There was a vase next to the sink that hadn't been used for as long as she could remember. She filled it half way up with water and gently unwrapped the dark blue tissue paper from around the flowers. Taking a large pair of scissors out of the drawer she lifted the roses from the bench one by one, cut the stems at a diagonal and carefully arranged them in the vase, surrounding them with the lacey fern fronds that the florist had used for contrast.
She walked carefully upstairs to her room, set the flowers on the nightstand next to her bed and sat down. The small pink envelope that had been taped to the candy box wasn't sealed. Gently, she took out a pink note, the faintest tremble shook her hand as she unfolded it and read the familiar hand.
Demon lover, my life begins and ends with you.
For grief indeed is love and grief beside.
Alas, I have grieved so I am hard to love.
Yet love me--wilt thou?
Open thine heart wide, And fold within, the wet wings of thy dove.
I love you.
She folded the note, put it back in the envelope and sat, staring at the flowers until it was time to leave for school.
Disclaimer: Daria belongs toMTV.
Liked it? Hated it? Tell me: firstname.lastname@example.org