Page 23 of Ten Years and Then…
Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
Daniel, December 19
Between cramming for his last exam, and Nora having three papers to finish, they hadn’t had the chance to exchange Christmas gifts, or even more than a few words.
Come to think of it, they hadn’t talked about gifts; he didn’t know if there was going to be an exchange at all. But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t important whether or not she’d bought anything for him. It would be enough for her to open his gift, to see how he truly felt about her.
They only had a couple of hours now. “I’m sorry, Daniel,” she said when she arrived at the Green Lantern Café and slid into the booth across from him. “I can’t stay past ten o’clock. I haven’t even started packing, and my train leaves at seven in the morning tomorrow, so I have to be out the door by six.”
He wanted to make a joke about leaving things to the last minute, but it wouldn’t be funny now. Besides, who was he to talk? He’d put off studying for his Introduction to Operating Systems final until the night before, and he’d be lucky if he managed a C on it.
“I get it,” he said. “I’m just glad we have this much time. I—I got something for you. Our family, we always wait until Christmas morning to open all the gifts, but—I guess it’s selfish, I want to see you open it.”
He handed over the gift. He’d had to buy a whole roll of wrapping paper, and it had felt silly to do that for one present, but if you were going to do something important, it was worth doing it the right way. He’d also spent an hour in the little gift shop next to the used bookshop going back and forth over which frame was the perfect one for the photo.
“That’s so sweet,” Nora said. He only noticed now that there was a gift-wrapped package stuffed into the top of her purse. So there would be an exchange after all.
“Before you open it, I just have to say something.” He hadn’t planned on saying it, the words just spilled out, and he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to. He needed her to know, even if she probably already did know. “I—I don’t know if this is the right time, or the right place, but I have to tell you. I don’t want to not see you for three weeks and not say it.” She reached a hand across the table, took his. He was right; she already knew what he was going to say. “I love you, Nora. I mean, you probably already knew it. But—there it is. I love you.”
She grinned at him. “I know.” It took him a heartbeat, maybe two, to comprehend what she’d said, and why. And then he burst into giggles and so did she.
Nora, one moment later
Once she’d stopped laughing and came over to Daniel’s side of the booth to kiss him—because there was no other response to his words—there was a tiny part of Nora’s mind that was disappointed.
She’d wanted to say it first.
Technically, sort of, she had, with his gift. But he hadn’t seen it. If you told a tree in the forest you loved it, and there wasn’t anyone else around to hear, did it really happen?
But that was ridiculous. Her boyfriend, who was amazing, told her he loved her. There shouldn’t be even the tiniest part of her feeling disappointed. Besides, she could tell him right now.
“I know you wanted me to open my gift first, but I think you should open yours.” She handed it over, and he took it. He very carefully pried up one edge of the wrapping paper, then slowly pulled it up. She hadn’t guessed that he was one of those people. Well, nobody was perfect.
It took him a minute to completely unwrap the scrapbook. When he did, his face lit up. “Nora, this is—God, this is so cool!”
“Open it up! Read it!”
He did, and his expression went from joy to—shock, maybe? “You’re kidding,” he said. “I don’t believe it. How could you … how could we…?” His voice caught before he could finish whatever he was trying to say.
This was not the reaction she’d been expecting. Not remotely. Not after all the work—and love—she’d poured into it. Whatever she was feeling—disappointment? Hurt? Something she didn’t even have a name for—must have shown on her face. He reached over, cupped her face in his hands, and there was a pleading look in his eyes. “Nora. Your gift … it was … never mind, I don’t even know the words. Just, please. Open my gift now, and you’ll understand. I promise.”
Unlike Daniel, she tore into his wrapping, and—she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. How could he—how could they—it was unbelievable. Of course he was stunned when he opened the scrapbook and saw the photo. It was unbelievable.
If she’d opened his gift first, she’d have reacted exactly the same.
The same idea. The same photo. Of course it was the same—what else could either of them have done?
“It’s the Gift of the Magi!” She kissed him again—like before, there was really no other response—and he kissed her back, and they went on doing that for what seemed like a very long time.
Daniel, nearly midnight
They were back outside Morris Hall. It was freezing tonight, but Daniel didn’t feel it at all, and he was pretty sure Nora didn’t, either. They’d taken forty minutes to make the ten minute walk from the café. Every few steps, one or the other of them had stopped to point out Christmas lights, or a particularly bright star or something else that wasn’t actually worth stopping for except that it provided an opportunity for another embrace, another kiss.
“I wish this night didn’t have to end,” she told him. She’d said almost the same thing after their first date, except there was no last minute packing or early morning train the next day.
Something about that night came back to him. A taste. Why was he thinking of raspberries now?
He leaned close, kissed her again, and he knew. “Your lipstick. That’s the same one you wore the first night.”
