Be Mine

"You can tell him it's both."

"I'm sorry." She said, her honesty reminding him again that despite whatever relief he felt he was truly heartbroken as well. "You didn't open your present." She said, her voice softening.

He looked at the box on his desk. It wasn't shipping material it was wrapped in. It was just similar. It also wasn't twine, but a decorative string.

"You didn't open yours either." He said.

"You didn't give me one." She pointed out.

He rose from behind his desk. On the credenza, on the far side of the room sat the small bag from the department store that had ridden in his trunk for almost a week and the small box he had ordered from amazon with the small trinket he had ordered. As he walked towards them he wondered if he should give one, the other, or both. He decided on both. He handed them to her.

"I should be offended." She said. He could tell she wasn't.

"No you shouldn't."

"These were not bought for me."

"No they weren't."

"I should not accept gifts she already rejected."

"She didn't reject them."

"She never saw them?"

"Never."

"But you were not thinking of me when you bought them." She said.

He was faced with a dilemma. She would be offended by the truth. He hadn't wanted to think of her when he purchased them. He set out shopping for items not for her but for his wife. Ex-wife. The truth of the matter was, when he was selecting them he was not thinking of his ex-wife. Standing in his office looking at her he thought of how he had stood in the department store sorting through the lingerie surrounded by a handful of equally confused, horny men like him. He remembered holding a pink chemise in his hand, preparing to purchase it. He remembered imagining it not on his wife but on Aabharana. He remembered thinking she didn't wear pink. She wore bold colors in darker hues. Looking down at the bag in his hand the lingerie inside was a deep emerald green he had selected because he knew she had a dress, her favorite dress, in exactly the same color. It was the dress she had worn at Christmas.

More clearly, much more simply, he remembered buying the bracelet. There were assorted different ones with different phrases etched on them. He had selected "BE MINE" Solely because he had wanted to ask Aabharana that very question.

"Life always seems like it changes quickly." He started. "But it seldom does. You walk each day down the same stone path wandering your way through life knowing exactly where the path goes, why you are on it and where you will arrive when it ends. Each day goes on and the path doesn't change. One day, you are rambling down the path when suddenly, out of nowhere, there is a flower. Somehow, between yesterday and today this flower had appeared in the path. It seems to you that the flower has sprung up suddenly, the change happened quickly, but in truth, things have been happening for some time. There was another flower growing somewhere that grew seeds, those seeds were fertilized. The fertilized seed was then carried by some force you never saw until it happened to land not on a stone to be crushed under foot but between the stones. The seed then sat there until it rained. The water spurred the seed on. A small root eventually appeared. You were walking along, day after day on the path, the path never seemed to change but here, and in this one spot somewhere along the way life was changing and growing. The root grew longer and took hold and nurtured the plant until it grew upward looking for the light. You passed over it several times more. It was there. It was growing. It was absorbing water and light and although you didn't see it the path was changing. One night it is long enough, tall enough, that it flowers, it spreads itself out, bright yellow and noticeable on the path. You finally see it, discovering the change. "

Aabharana just looked at him. He searched for a smile or a frown or some signal, any at all, and got back nothing.

"So, suddenly today my life changed. Honestly, it has been a bit unnerving. Whether I was thinking of you or not I'm not going to say but... and here is the but... At this moment, knowing what these are, knowing you and knowing me and not knowing much of anything about what is going to happen next, I want you to have these." Out of breath he was done.

She took the box from him and opened it. Finally she smiled. He had this little romantic notion that she might shed a tear and squeal and scream, "Yes! Yes!" I'll be yours but that was a ridiculous thought. "So I am a weed."

"Yes, you are a weed." He said. Waiting on a reaction.

"And these changes, you are going to continue to mispronounce my name."

"No, I will shorten it. I do that."

"Yes, what is it you call Christina?"

"Tiny."

"Christina is beautiful. She should slap you for making such a silly name." Her accent was flowing thickly and he wondered what it meant or if it meant anything at all.

She studied the bracelet for a moment. She passed him the bag, as she needed both hands to put the bracelet on her wrist. He supposed that was a good sign. She took the bag back from him and untied the bow. She pulled the small negligee out of the bag and held it against her body. Instantly his mind filled with the image of her wearing it, he imagined the dark skin of her thigh showing where the slit was. He breathed deeply.

"I have a dress this color." She said quietly.

"I know. You look beautiful in it."

"That was embarrassing."

The understanding was a more intense embrace than if she had wrapped her arms around him.

"I cannot accept this." She said. Lowering the gown back into the bag.

"I'm sorry."

"Six months. It is customary." She said. "Whether I want it or not, I can't accept it for six months. My mother, my god, my mother would kill me." He moved to take the bag back from her. "No. She said. There is no telling whom else you might give it to on your way home. You are very vulnerable right now." She smiled at him. "I will just hold on to it until it is appropriate."

"You aren't going to take it home and wear it around all the time, are you?" he teased.

"No. That would be inappropriate. I also wont wear it to bed tonight. I don't want you to think of me slipping into my satin sheets wearing only this little sliver of a negligee. That would be inappropriate. Go, open yours." She ordered. He moved back to his desk. He watched her play with the ornament on her wrist and smiled to himself.

Inside the box was a shaving set. It was luxurious. There was a brush, a cup, a container of powder that turned into a warming cream and a straight razor. It was expensive. He had wanted one but thought of it as extravagant. He could use his trusty Gillette. "I wanted this." He said

"I am glad you like it." She said. "You need to go now. Stop stalling, Christine and Benjamin will need you." She moved to the door. "Again, don't take the ten." She said. She moved to close the door behind her.

"Aabharana?" he called, just before he was closed in.

"Yes." She answered.

"Thank you."

"There is a card too." She said, nodding toward the box. As he looked down he saw the small envelope. It was like the little envelopes they put with flowers and whatnot, about the size of a business card. He looked back to the door and got just a short glimpse of her arm and hip as she closed the door.

Absentmindedly he gathered his suit coat, his box of shaving goodies, and his tie. He could leave his briefcase. Finally, as he was heading to the door with his arms full he managed to tug the card out of the envelope.

He read it as he exited the office and thought about the bracelet.

He grinned as he looked back towards her desk. She was on the phone. He heard her ask for Robert's office and knew she was taking care of him as always.

Chrissy had closed the office and he used the large green button to open the glass door after hours. There were any number of ways she might have known about everything. About his wife and about trying to get him there ahead of noon, about the letter and the way his day would go and about the bracelet and the simple two-word question it posed. "Be mine?"

He was smiling as he slipped into the elevator. He was looking forward to shaving in the morning. As the door closed he read the note one more time before slipping it into his pocket.

C,

I already am!

Love,

A.