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When she slid into one of the chairs at the counter, Granny’s eyebrow arched; and when she placed her order for a cup of black coffee, a small but empathetic smirk formed over Granny’s lips and she’d asked if she’d prefer coffee of the Irish variety. Regina had nodded and a moment later, a steamy cup of spiked coffee was sitting in front of her—and she nursed it for as long as she could, not wanting to finish it.
She ignored the cardboard hearts that dangled from the ceiling and the “Dinner for Two” specials posted on the menu, and for a few fleeting moments, she was able to forget that it was Valentine’s Day.
When she woke up that morning, Valentine’s Day had been the furthest thing from her mind—and it wasn’t until she got to her office and saw the vase of long stem roses on her secretary’s desk she’d even realized the significance of the date. So often, the days blurred together with nothing important to distinguish them; but that day, even her desk calendar served as a reminder. The date was written in red and there was a little heart printed in the corner of the grid—and a lack of meetings and appointments made for a very long day, leaving her to get caught up in her loneliness and boredom until she was reaching for the phone.
She held her breath as she pushed the numbers to the police station and her eyes pressed closed as she entered Graham’s extension, all the while telling herself that what she was about to do was a terrible idea; it always was. But when he answered she found herself a little grin tugging onto her lips—grinning not because she was glad to hear his voice, but glad for the interaction with another person.
He seemed surprised, but he played along, trading pleasantries and inquiring about her day, making small talk and giving her the sense that someone cared enough to actually listen to her answers.
“Regina,” he said after a few minutes. “Why did you call?”
She’d taken a breath and slowly exhaled it, fully aware of how desperate this was. “I want to see you tonight.”
“Tonight…”
“Yes…”
“Oh,” he’d murmured slowly. “I could come over, maybe around ten-thirty?”
Nodding, she grimaced. “Actually, I was… wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me tonight.”
“Dinner….”
“Around seven? I’ll make a reservation.”
“Regina, its Valentine’s Day.”
“Do you not have dinner on Valentine’s Day?”
“Regina…”
“Graham, it’s just dinner, not a marriage proposal. Don’t make a big deal out of this.”
“It sounds like a date.”
Swallowing hard, she leaned back in her chair. “Would that be such a terrible thing? To go on a date with the woman you’re sleeping with? You… seem to enjoy my company enough to…”
“Fine,” he’d cut in with a curt voice. “Make the reservation.”
She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Don’t sound too excited about it.”
“I’m working.”
“So am I,” she sighed. “I’ll… call you later with the arrangements.”
“Sure.”
She’d left work early that day. She’d gone home and taken a long shower; she’d spent extra time on her makeup and she’d curled the ends of her hair. And when she slipped her feet into a pair of patent leather heels and looked at herself in the mirror, she felt a small flutter that she couldn’t quite place—and then, she realized she was nervous.
When she arrived at the restaurant the hostess led her to her table—a cozy one in dark corner—and the waiter quickly brought her menus and a glass of water. She sipped the water as she waited; and then the waiter came around, offering her an uneasy little smile as he refilled the glass—something that he would repeat again and again and again until she finally conceded that Graham had stood her up.
With each passing minute, the knot in her stomach had tightened and her cheeks began to flush red with embarrassment, and when she finally rose from the table to leave, her jaw was tight and she was fighting back her tears. She knew that her relationship with Graham was little more than a farce. They’d never gone on a date, he’d never stayed the whole night; and though she was well aware of the confines of their relationship, it still hurt every time she realized how unwanted she was. It wasn’t even that she wanted a relationship with him—she knew she didn’t love him as much as he didn’t love her—but she wanted someone, someone to laugh with and hold at night, someone who smiled at her from across a room, someone who eased her loneliness.
As she walked out, the cool air stung and pushed the tears down her cheeks—and as she made her way to her car, the last thing she wanted to do was go home to an empty house.
And so she’d ended up at Granny’s sipping a cup of coffee…
“Excuse me,” came a little voice, causing her to turn her head. She watched as a little boy climbed onto one of the chairs beside her and a curious little grin pulled onto her lips as he offered her a toothless smile and swept his messy curls away from his forehead. “Do you have a valentine?”
Her grin tightened. “No,” she’s said in a flat voice. “I don’t.”
The little boy considered it for a moment. “Neither do I.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Why not?”
“Because,” he said with a loud sigh. “My dad bought the lamest valentine’s cards.” The little boy shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I wanted to get the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles ones… because I think girls like turtles.” Regina’s eyebrow arched as the boy’s shoulders shrugged. “But he got Spiderman ones, and girls don’t like spiders.” For a moment, he considered. “Or, at least they like turtles more than spiders.”
“Oh…”
“The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles ones also came with candy.”
“And girls like candy?”
“Everybody likes candy.”
“That’s… true,” she said with a little nod. “But I’m willing to bet everyone liked your Spiderman cards.”
“Maybe.” She laughed a little as a short silence fell between them, and the boy looked directly at her—and she couldn’t help but think he was one of the few people who’d ever looked her in the eye, completely unafraid. “You know,” he began after a moment. “Since I don’t have a valentine, and you don’t have a valentine…” He paused as he reached around himself and her eyes narrowed as he opened up his backpack. “Maybe we could be each other’s valentines.”
Her breath caught as he pulled out a little flower made from pipe cleaners, and attached to it, was a little Spiderman card—and when he pushed it out toward her, she felt a fluttering in her chest that she wasn’t used to feeling. “You… want to give me that?”
“Yeah! Then you’ll be my valentine.”
“You don’t want to give it to someone else? Your mom, maybe?”
For a moment, the little boy’s eyes darkened. “I don’t have a mom.”
“Oh…”
“And I want you to have it.”
“Thank you,” she murmured softly, taking the flower from him. “I… don’t have anything for you, though.”
His cheeks flushed and his smile grew bashful. “Could I… have a kiss?”
“A kiss,” she’d repeated as his lip caught between his teeth. “That seems fair.”
Leaning in, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and when she pulled back, his face was red.
“Roland!” Called a man’s voice, “Roland, you were supposed to wait for me in the bathroom.”
The boy’s eyes widened as his nose scrunched as he turned to face the man. “It was… smelly in there.”
The man’s eyes rolled and he scooped him up from the chair, tucking him beneath his arm as he noticed the pipe cleaner flower in her hand. “Alright, time to stop flirting,” he said, offering her a little wink before turning his attention back to the boy. “I told your dad I’d have you back at the shop by closing time, and it’s already ten minutes after that.”
The boy giggled as the man carried him to the door, and she turned her head to watch him go, a smile stretching onto her lips as he waved goodbye with a floppy hand. And when she turned back to the counter, she felt that unfamiliar fluttering again and as she twirled the little flower between her fingers, she realized that this was the first time she’d actually smiled that day.