(no subject)

I had memories of Valentine’s Day. Of gifts given, gifts rescued by Stan when Eddie couldn’t remember them, gifts that now sat on the dresser in our bedroom. Both the plant and the lion. I still hadn’t been able to find the right words to thank Stan for keeping our things, our important things. I had thanked him, of course, but it never felt enough.

Standing in our shared apartment now, looking at these items, I felt oddly confident in my gift this year. It wasn’t fancy, but it was special. A piece of the lifeboat from the Jolly Roger, a beautiful wooden plank I had commissioned Bill’s ex-boyfriend’s new boyfriend to sand down and carve our names into.

There was space below the names for a date. For when we got married.

I had also bought flowers, which were sitting in a vase on the table, waiting for Eddie to get home. I had wrapped the wood, though not very well, still learning how to properly use my new hook. I thought he’d forgive me for that.

“I’m in the bedroom,” I called when I heard the door open. “Just a second, I’ll come out to you.”

I turned, tucked the wrapped plank under my arm, and went out to meet him.