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Loid was sure Spring cleaning was his wife’s favorite ‘holiday’ of the year. Every year, just as the weather began to turn, her eyes would take on a gleam and she would start slipping hints in conversation whenever she could.
“I’m getting more laundry soap at the store, because we’re going to have to wash all the beds soon. What scent do you want?”
“Loid, dear, do you need this old shirt? If not, I’m going to cut it up to make rags. You know, because we need to clean soon.”
It was like Anya used to be in the weeks before Christmas. This year was no different. Yor approached one evening after tea. She cleared her throat. Loid folded his paper and looked up at her expectantly. She smiled and pulled out a notebook from behind her back.
“I have a schedule.” Yor said.
“For?” Loid asked.
“For Spring cleaning.” Yor said, opening her book to show a color-coded chart. “Since Anya isn’t here this year, we have to divide it differently.”
There were many things amiss in the house since Anya went to college. Yor had cried for a whole day when she left; Loid had joined her.
“Alright,” Loid said, “What do we have?”
Yor prattled off the list of activities, who would do what on which day. “For tonight, I’ll do the windows if you’ll do the dressers.” she said.
Loid smiled and leaned forward in his chair. Yor bent down to meet him halfway. Loid pressed a kiss to his temple. If Twilight could see Loid now he would have been scandalized. To think I’d be happy to just do housework with my wife.
“Sounds like a plan, my darling.” Loid said.
Yor rubbed at the knot in his bad knee. “I’ll go get some supplies.” she said.
Loid sighed. His fingers ghosted over where Yor’s had been a moment before. Stupid spying. Stupid jumping off buildings for years that left him old beyond his years. He was only thirty-eight and he could barely walk a few feet before needing to sit down or lean on something to alleviate the pressure on his legs.
Yor returned with an armload of towels and cleaners. Despite the few strands of grey at her temples, she moved as easily as she did years ago. “Pick your poison, love.” she said, holding out the supplies.
Loid picked a cleaning rag and some spray, and made his way towards the bedrooms. He dared not touch Anya’s room, Yor treated it like a shrine to their far-away daughter. He opened the door to his and Yor’s room, and began to spray the dresser. Loid worked rubbing away the cleaner. Yor hummed in the other room as she began her work.
Loid steered around the knick-knacks on his and his wife's dresser and when that was unavoidable he would pick the thing up and erase the dusty border it left behind. Loid reached the end of the dresser, at the corner sat Yor’s jewelry box. It had been his gift to here on one of her birthdays years ago.
Loid picked up the box with one hand while he held his cleaning supplies in the other. He underestimated the amount of jewels Yor had accumulated over the years. The heavy box teetered in his hand and before Loid could right it, it crashed to the ground. The little drawers were flung across the room and the jewelry scattered. The metal chains and jewels clashed like chimes.
Loid heard Yor’s hurried footsteps before the jewelry box had even settled. “What happened?!” she asked, bursting into the room.
“Nothing, don’t worry, dear.” Loid said. “I’m sorry, but I dropped your jewelry box.”
Yor sighed with relief. “Oh, thank goodness.” She stepped into to room and observed the carnage, she stooped and began to pick up the jewels.
Loid knelt beside Yor as they sifted through the jewelry. Every few pieces or so, Yor would tap Loid on the shoulder and show him a pair of earrings or a necklace that was particularly pretty.
“Remember this? Anya made it for me.” Yor said, holding up a bracelet of colored, woven yarn.
“And you kept it?” Loid asked.
“Of course.” Yor said, gazing down at the bracelet.
Loid smiled to himself as he continued to organize the pile in front of him. He and his wife sat side by side, simply taking in each other’s company. It was nice. Loid’s fingers brushed over a piece of rough metal. He plucked it from the pile. It was a circle of metal, like a wrapped wire. A little piece poked out at the side. Loid knew exactly what it was, he had pulled it over the years. He could still smell the whiff of smoke, the feeling of Yor’s cold hand clasped in his. It was the first time he saw the sparkle in her eye that he would grow to fall in love with.
“You kept this?” Loid asked.
Yor looked up and her smile lit up the room. “My ring!”
Loid handed the ‘ring’ back to his wife. “Its a grenade pin.”
“But its still my engagement ring.” Yor said. “Or my wedding ring, since we did say vows.”
Yor admired the grenade pin as she slipped it onto her finger along with her other gold band, one plain and one with a little diamond.
“But you have real rings, from when we were properly married.” Loid said.
Yor gave him a smile. “I know and I love them. But this? This is when you, me, and Anya began. At first I kept it because I didn’t know what to do with it. But as time went on…I couldn’t bear to part with it.” Yor said. “It is my ring. The one we were married with.”
When Twilight first met Yor he wondered how in the world he had gotten so lucky. Loid wondered the same question every day. He leaned forward and Yor met him half way with a kiss.