Be Mine, Valentine

by Jennifer Johnson

  With the first breath of my grandson.

  She picked up her single grocery bag. The plastic crinkled as she checked to make sure that both rolls of slice-and-bake cookies were inside. She caught up with Brady who stood by the exit, smiling triumphantly and chewing. His rosy cheeks bulged from the wad of bubble gum in his mouth.

  Lilly smoothed the cowlick that sprung up and caused his bangs to part to one side, then pulled the hood of his coat on to his head. “Zip up, buddy.”

  Outside, the moist February wind whirled. Winter had been unusually cold in coastal Virginia—more aches and pains for a seventy-six-year-old when the temperatures got so low. But Lilly kept active. Giving in to aging wasn’t her plan.

  She and Brady got into her Ford Taurus, the last car that Mac had bought for him and Lilly, and headed home. In the passenger seat, Brady chewed his gum and examined one of the rolls of slice-and-bake cookies. “We got lucky to get these, huh? The ones with the hearts in the middle.”

  “We did.” Lilly gave him a sharp glance and an exasperated smile. “Let’s don’t allow your teacher’s notes to get smooshed in the bottom of your book bag next time. Then we won’t have to worry over getting the right thing at the last minute.” She spoke her words gently, with the disappointed-grandmother tone that usually got his attention.

  Brady tucked his chin and stared at the roll of cookies. “I think it’s okay if some of my teacher’s notes get smooshed in my book bag. Just not the ones about cookies.”

  Lilly knew which notes Brady meant, but she chose not to sour the afternoon by lecturing him about his tendency to talk too much in class. A tendency that had resulted in more than a few not-so-happy notes from his teacher. His parents had not been pleased. Neither had she. Yet she did little to enforce quiet time when he was with her. She loved the cheerful tunes he hummed—his singing and continuous chatter. The sound of his voice buoyed her spirits and chased some of the lingering loneliness from her heart.

  “The notes about cookies are the best ones,” Lilly said. “We’ll bake those this afternoon and wrap them up nice for your Valentine’s party tomorrow.”

  After they stopped in Lilly’s driveway, Brady dashed out of the car and around to the driver’s side just as she opened the door. “I can help you, Granny Lil. You didn’t bring your cane.”

  Lilly let him help her, even though she could manage on her own. It never hurt to teach a boy how to be a gentleman. “The doctor told me I didn’t need my cane anymore.”

  The cold air, and the thought of the cane, sent a shudder through her. Yet using a cane had been a blessing after dealing with a big, clunky walker for two months after she’d fractured her ankle last August. Lilly had stepped in a hole over by her neighbor’s fence. If they would have been polite and kept the weeds trimmed, she and her weed-eater may not have ventured over the unfamiliar terrain. But she had. The weeds had grown back as she endured a long and often painful recovery, determined to get back to her old self.

  “But you might need that cane.” Brady’s face wrinkled with concern. “Just in case.”

  “You’re right. I might.” Lilly held Brady’s hand and ambled along the sidewalk with a slight limp that she hadn’t had this time last year. Sometimes she’d swear she could hear the hardware they’d put in her ankle squeaking.

  When they reached the front steps, she grabbed one handrail and he, the other. They looked at each other, grinned and began the stair-step routine that Lilly had learned in rehab.

  “The good goes up,” Brady raised his foot.

  Lilly mirrored him, lifting her good foot onto the step. “The bad goes down.”

  “The good goes up. The bad goes down.” They repeated their riff four times, until they’d climbed each step and reached the porch.

  “And the good people go up and the bad people go down.” Brady straightened like a soldier and dipped his chin with third-grader drama.

  “Yes, they do.” Lilly grasped his bony shoulders, padded by his thick coat, and peered into his innocent eyes. “You’re good. And you’re going up.”

  He shrugged. “That’s what you always say. That you’re gonna be waitin’ for me in heaven.”

  “I will, but I won’t be going there anytime soon.”

  I won’t be seeing Mac….

  “Especially not today,” she said, “we’ve got cookies to bake.”

  Brady beamed at her with a gap-toothed grin. He opened the storm door, its glass dotted with colorful window clings of cupids and conversation hearts that said HUG ME and LUV U.

  “I picked these out. They’re prettier than last year’s.” Brady flattened his hand over a tiny pink heart that threatened to peel away from the glass. When he took his hand away, the heart’s edges stuck, surrounded by his sticky handprint.

  “And you made such an impressive design with them.” The cheap window clings had never been Lilly’s idea of holiday decorating until she’d started keeping Brady—since he was six weeks old. Then before and after school while his parents worked. She and Brady had gotten to share the first several years with Mac.

  “Grandaddy Mac would like these.” Brady nodded several times quickly, his lips pressed together as if he was certain. “We got the first ones with him.”

  Lilly’s heart softened with the memory. She couldn’t know for sure whether Brady remembered being captivated by the bright-colored Christmas window clings in the Dollar General. He’d only been about two-and-a-half. Perhaps he’d heard her tell the story so often that he could recount it himself. She’d tried hard to keep Mac’s memory alive for him.

  “Let’s put them on the storm door,” Mac had said about the plastic clings.

  “Really?” Lilly’s voice betrayed her surprise. Mac was even more particular about the looks of their modest home than she was.

  Mac nodded and rubbed one of his age-spotted hands over Brady’s head. “Our little boy likes them.”

  When they got home, Lilly and Mac let Brady stick the window clings wherever he wanted on the glass door. Mac held Brady in his arms so a few ended up higher on the door than the little fellow could reach by himself.

  The clings were arranged in a scattered mess—a candy cane placed horizontally, a Santa Claus upside down—yet Lilly, Mac and Brady saw them as a beautiful display.

  Less than a week later, Mac died from a sudden heart attack.

  Barely making it through Christmas and Mac’s New Year’s Eve birthday, Lilly waited until Valentine’s Day to take down the Christmas clings. Even then she thought her heart would burst as she and Brady peeled off the curled-edge decorations then replaced them with plastic hearts.

  Since then, she and Brady had kept the decorating tradition with almost every holiday.

  “Yes,” Lilly said to Brady, “Grandaddy Mac would like these, especially the heart that says LUV U because he loved you so much.”

  Brady chewed his gum, his expression serious. “Yep. I think he did.” He yanked at the sleeves of his coat, taking it off with a swish. “He was your Valentine, wasn’t he?”

  Lilly bent down and took Brady in her arms. “Yes, he was.” She hugged her grandson tight, tearful and thankful for the life that filled hers when it could have been so empty. “Now let’s get those cookies in the oven.”

  They bustled in the kitchen, clanging pans, laughing and watching the cookies bake. Soon, the house filled with a sweet aroma that no Yankee Candle could match.

  “Am I spending the night here tonight?” Brady asked, never certain about where he’d be when.

  Lilly nodded. “Your mom’s got an early shift and your dad doesn’t get back in town until late tomorrow night.”

  He bunched his lips in a pout and scrunched his face. “Stupid business meetings.”

  Lilly enjoyed her evenings with Brady, but hated to see his disappointment when he wanted to go home, but couldn’t. “Do you want to do something special?”

  The expression on his face made her wonder how he’d answer.

  “Can you
spike up my hair in the front tomorrow morning?”

  “And give that short haircut a little style?” Lilly smoothed his cowlick again. “Sure, I’ll do that for you.”

  “And can I wear my nice jeans?”

  Lilly glanced at the frayed hems of the worn-out jeans he had on, usually his favorites.

  “And my red shirt?” he asked, before she could answer. “The one with the long sleeves and the little swoosh on the front?” He drew the swoosh on his chest with his finger.

  “I think we have those clothes here. If we don’t, we’ll go get them from your house.” Lilly checked the first batch of cookies. Almost done. “I think it’s good to look nice for your Valentine’s party.”

  Brady lowered his eyebrows, looking serious. “It’s not that, Granny Lil.” He turned his back, reached into the front pocket of his jeans, hesitated, then faced her. In his outstretched hand he held a cheap, gold-metal filigree ring with a sapphire-blue oval stone. “I want to give Katie this ring on the bus tomorrow.”

  Ah, Katie. The angel-faced little blond girl that Brady’s heart had flipped somersaults for since kindergarten.

  “I got it from the gum machine.”

  Lilly took a closer look at the ring. “It’s lovely. I’m sure it will be the most wonderful Valentine surprise she’s ever had.”

  She expected a smile, but got more of the same expression she’d seen before. Brady was nervous.

  He drew a deep breath and blew it out in a bubble-gum scented plume. “I’m not sure if I’m gonna get down on one knee or not.”

  Lilly resisted the urge to hug him again.

  How I love this little boy.

  Her stomach knotted thinking of her sweet grandson on one knee on the school bus asking Katie to be his Valentine. Giving her a ring.

  Please let her be kind.

  Lilly knew heartbreak. Lived it every day without her beloved Mac. She didn’t want Brady to have to learn about heartbreak at such a young age, or ever. She wanted him to be fearless and hopeful and starry-eyed when it came to love and life. Just as she had been. As she still was. Mac had shown her that love could live forever in her heart.

  Lilly clasped Brady’s fingers over the ring. “Whatever you decide to do will be perfect.”

  He gave her a half-grin, as if he might believe her. She knew he wanted to. Hoped he did.

  The oven timer buzzed—the signal for Brady to spit his gum in the trash so he could eat a warm cookie.

  Lilly took the first batch from the oven and Brady used a spatula to slide the cookies onto the cooling rack. His hand slipped and one of the cookies broke in half, splitting the pink heart in the middle with a jagged tear.

  “That’s like your heart without Grandaddy Mac,” he said.

  “Yes, it is.” Lilly swallowed against rising tears and pointed to the rest of the cookies. “But look at all those perfect hearts. They’re like my heart, with you.”

  This time she got his full, gap-toothed smile. He grabbed both halves of the broken cookie and gobbled them down, chasing them with a glass of cold milk.

  He and Lilly put another batch of cookies in the oven and set about sprinkling sugar on the hot ones. Brady pinched a perfect amount of sugar between his fingers, then let it rain onto each cookie.

  “You’re doing a fine job sugaring the cookies,” Lilly said.

  “I’m sparkling the hearts.”

  “Maybe you’ll be a pastry chef when you grow up. Making delicious pies and cookies and cakes.”

  “I can’t do that,” he said. “I’ve already told you.”

  “Told me what?”

  “That I’m gonna be an astronaut. I’m gonna to fly up to heaven and bring Grandaddy Mac back to you.”

  He had told her that, when he was four. She put her hand over his, sugar granules between them. “I hope you will.”

  Valentine’s Day dawned with a pink-ribboned sunrise. Lilly hoped that the events of the day would turn out just as beautiful, especially for Brady. She laid out his clothes—the ones he’d requested. After he got dressed, she spiked his hair in the front.

  Brady looked in the mirror, turning from side to side to get the full effect.

  “You look very handsome.” Lilly picked some lint from the back of his bright-red shirt and wished Mac could see their little boy now.

  “No I don’t.” Brady grinned impishly. “I look cool.”

  Lilly laughed. “It’s almost time for the bus.”

  They packed his book bag. Lilly tucked the Valentine’s cookies they had baked atop his folders and books. She’d protected the cookies with plastic wrap and snuggled them into a heart-shaped tin.

  Lilly walked him to the door. “Do you have the ring?” Her words came out shaky. She hated to ask, to make him anxious about giving it to Katie, yet didn’t want him to forget it.

  Wide eyes and one certain nod assured her that he did. His nervousness had seemed to vanish.

  “She’s going to love it, especially because it’s from you.” Lilly kissed him on the forehead and smelled the hair gel’s fruity scent.

  Brady hugged her, then left in a flurry. “See ya this afternoon.” He skipped down the steps and across the yard. When he reached the street, he turned and waved at Lilly, then blew her a kiss.

  And off he went. Her Brady, with his heart still whole.

  After a quiet moment, Lilly closed the door and sighed. She ambled into the kitchen and settled at the table with a cup of tea and the newspaper. But few of the stories held her attention. She couldn’t tear her thoughts away from Brady. Had he given the ring to Katie? Had she been kind?

  Lilly knew she could do nothing but wait until Brady returned this afternoon. Worrying about him wouldn’t accomplish anything. Once she convinced herself of that, her thoughts wandered to Mac, as they often did, and their Valentine’s Days together. Simple, happy days filled with anticipation and romance. Nothing fancy, no expensive gifts—just each other.

  She left her tea and newspaper in the kitchen, went into her bedroom and opened the top drawer of her bureau. The white envelope lay atop neatly folded socks, next to a lavender sachet. Three cursive letters scrolled across its middle.

  Mac.

  Lilly picked up the envelope and gently closed the drawer. With the envelope clutched to her heart, she sat on her bed. She gazed at her favorite picture of her and Mac in its sacred place on her bedside table. Close to her pillow, even closer to her dreams.

  The black-and-white photo had been taken on their wedding day. Not a posed portrait, but a candid picture snapped when the two of them had stolen a glance at one another. A you-are-the-love-of-my-life glance that lit up the smiles on their unlined faces.

  Lilly swept her fingertips across the sharp corner of the picture’s brushed silver frame, then over the glass. Along Mac’s cheek. She smoothed her thumb over his lips and wished she could kiss them—just once more.

  She lifted the envelope. “I got you a card.” Her words were a wisp in the air. “A blank one this year. None of the verses seemed appropriate, but the picture on this one did.”

  Lilly opened the envelope and pulled out the card. On the front, two gnarled old trees had grown together at the trunk, intertwining tightly, then separated in a heart shape and rejoined. The sun set behind the tree, illuminating the heart with a brilliant-pink glow.

  Inside the card, Lilly had written:

  You’re where love starts and where love ends,

  The best of lovers, best of friends.

  Even though we’re not together,

  My heart’s still yours, now and forever.

  Happy Valentine’s Day in heaven.

  I love you, Lilly.

  She looked longingly at their picture and wondered how the days had gotten past her. How she’d let the special moments get away and not begged for time to stop.

  After awhile, she set the card next to their picture and went back into the kitchen.

  Brady returned mid-afternoon, sugar-hyper and motor-mouthed. E
ither things had gone well with Katie, or he’d recovered quickly. Lilly didn’t have to ask.

  “I got on the bus and sat in my normal seat.” He tossed his book bag onto the couch. “Katie gets on two stops after me so I got the ring out of my pocket. Chandler saw it and said, ‘Are you gonna ask her to marry you?’ but I didn’t say.”

  Lilly scooted to the edge of her seat on the recliner, her heart beating like hummingbird wings.

  “She sat with me, like always. But I had the ring hid away in my hand. Chandler was looking and I got a little scared that he was gonna tell her. So I told her real quick that I had cookies in my backpack.”

  Uh-oh.

  “Katie said, ‘Let’s see,’ but I said they were for my party but this ring was for her. Then I showed it to her.” He tossed his coat on top of his book bag then sat on the floor in front of Lilly. “She smiled at me, and some of her teeth are gone like mine. I didn’t know but she said blue is her favorite color, like the color on the ring. It didn’t fit tight but I squeezed it together in the back so it did.”

  Lilly felt giddy with relief. “Oh, Brady. That’s wonderful.”

  “That’s not all. She said she’d be my Valentine and…” His eyes twinkled but he stopped his full-speed talking—applied full pressure on the brakes. His face flushed pink.

  “And?” Lilly couldn’t wait to hear the rest.

  Brady cupped his hand over his cheek. “She kissed me. Right on the cheek.” His words came out high-pitched and trilling.

  “My gracious, that’s a story.” Lilly clutched his hand, smiling. “Now you have a Valentine.”

  “Yep,” he said, looking proud. “She’s mine.” He slipped his hand from beneath hers. “But you know, there are all kinds of Valentines.”

  “That’s true,” Lilly said. “But few very special ones.”

  Like Mac.

  Brady got up on his knees and dug into the front pocket of his jeans. He pulled out his hand and opened it. A cheap, gold-metal filigree ring rested in his palm. The front of the ring faced Brady, so Lilly couldn’t see the stone.