Valentine's Every-Day

She jumped unsuccessfully to reach it and I retaliated by slapping her shoulder with the gun, leaving behind a $3.49 sticker.

She protested futilely, "Stop! Not fair!"

I held the gun back over her head using both hands to adjust the dial, "You're right, you're worth more than that. How about $5.99."

She playfully punched my stomach and laughed uncontrollably while I landed a dozen more pricing stickers on her back and arms.

I reveled in hearing the pure innocent joy in Emily's laugh and let my guard down a little too much. She swiped the gun out of my hand and proceeded to dance like a boxer while occasionally landing sticker hits on my legs and torso.

Mr. Jacobs must have heard the commotion. He opened the stock room door to find Emily dancing around me with the gun, and both of us covered in price stickers. I made the mistake of looking toward the door, and Emily took the opportunity to land three more quick shots. Mr. Jacobs thought that was the funniest thing ever and his booming laugh joined ours in echoing through the building.

*******

Emily and I hugged and cried as we said goodbye for the summer. We talked on the phone at least once every day and texted constantly that summer, sharing every little detail about our days.

True to Emily's encouragement over the last year, I was much more intentional in my conversations with everyone; friends, family, customers, acquaintances... everyone. It was transformational to develop 'real' relationships with people that I had known superficially for many years and, in two instances, to be able to see them come to faith in Christ.

When the Burkee's returned from vacation at the end of the summer, I insisted on taking them out for dinner at a really nice 'big city' restaurant. Well, it wasn't 5-star, but it was the best restaurant in the next larger town a half hour away.

It was the final year of our annual tuition-vacation arrangement and I wanted to thank them for all they had done for me. I expressed a sincere debt of gratitude that I didn't think I would ever be able to repay, but they repeatedly assured me it was a mutually beneficial situation and, if anything, the outstanding debt was on their side of the ledger.

The extended summer vacations had brought back a connection in their relationship that they hadn't felt since they were young. In fact, they were hoping that they could work out a similar agreement with another high school student they had hired and come to trust.

Strangely, being physically apart from Emily for the summer allowed me to gain clarity. She was everything I could ever want or need in a life partner. We were spiritually, intellectually, and emotionally aligned. She was my best friend, and a beautiful person inside and out. We simply made each other better. And most of all... I realized what I felt was more than fleeting attraction. I resolutely believed that God meant us to be together.

*******

Back in Powell on Tuesday before classes started, I was eager to see Emily but first needed to talk to her father.

The Fulton's were a very conservative and traditional family, like Powell College itself, and I wanted to honor that. I can't say I knew her parents well, but Emily had introduced me at church and I usually had short exchanges with them on Sunday mornings. Dr. Fulton was a pleasant, though formal man of average height and build. Mrs. Fulton was simply an older version of Emily in every way, both appearance and personality.

Professors were required by the college to hold open office hours the week before classes, and I knew that would be my best opportunity to find him without Emily knowing. I knocked on his door early Tuesday afternoon with a firm response of, "Come in."

I opened the door and stepped in, "Hello Dr. Fulton."

He started flipping through some papers on his desk and spoke inquisitively, "Hello Michael. Are you enrolled in one of my courses this term?"

I felt the unconscious need to match his formality, "No, sir. This call is of a personal nature. Would you prefer I contact you outside of office hours?"

Intrigued, he set his reading glasses on the desk and leaned back in his chair, "What can I do for you Michael?"

"It's about Emily, sir. I have had the privilege of getting to know her over the past three years, and think she is an amazing, Godly woman. We've become very good friends and I believe God may have larger plans for us."

I paused briefly without receiving any immediate reaction from Dr. Fulton, then continued, "I would like to ask your permission to pursue a relationship with Emily."

"Define relationship."

"Courtship, sir. I would like to court her with the intent of progressing our relationship toward marriage."

Seemingly satisfied with that response, he asked, "Have you talked about this with Emily?"

"We talked about our growing feelings for each other before summer break. I think we both knew we were heading this direction, but God really gave me clarity over the summer. With your permission, I intend to ask her tomorrow."

"Are you committed to the Biblical model of marriage?"

"Yes sir."

"That includes being the spiritual leader in the relationship, loving and honoring Emily as Christ would the Church... and upholding her purity before marriage?"

"Yes sir."

"Very well then. You have my permission."

He stood to shake my hand, "I know she fancies you. I suspect I'll be hearing news soon."

*******

That afternoon, the Christian school was holding a carnival and then an evening talent show for all the summer camp staff and counselors, so I knew I wouldn't see Emily that first day back in town. I spent the rest of the day shopping for groceries, getting settled back into the hardware store apartment, and catching up with Mr. Jacobs.

Emily texted me throughout the day, lamenting how much she wanted to see me. I encouraged her to enjoy the day and that I looked forward to seeing her too. Over a series of texts, we made plans to meet the next day for lunch at Muggs.

That night, I had a vivid dream of sitting on a bench with Emily, talking about our future, and presenting her with a beautiful diamond tennis bracelet. I was startled awake soon after, and knew I wanted to give her a symbol of my commitment tomorrow. A diamond tennis bracelet was far outside of my financial reach, but I had another idea.

I padded barefoot down the stairs in the middle of the night and began searching through the store for supplies to improvise a bracelet. I found very fine gauge stainless-steel wire, some stainless-steel crimp connectors, and some low-voltage electrical resistors that looked like tiny clear glass beads. I quickly grabbed some needle-nose pliers and a few other tools on my way back up to the apartment.

Without much conscious thought, I sat at the dining table and my hands intuitively began weaving and scrolling the wire into an intricate patterned cable, embedding the glass resistors at regular intervals as I progressed. Once happy with the decorative cable, I did my best to guess at Emily's wrist size and bent it over the edge of the table to form a C-shaped bracelet. Finally, I trimmed the ends of the cable, then neatly folded and crimped the wire connectors over the loose ends of the 'C'.

The process had taken all night and rays of morning sun were streaming into the Main St. windows. It wasn't Tiffany or Cartier, but I was pleased with the results.

*******

I approached Muggs, and from a half-block away, saw Emily standing by the entrance to the picnic table corral. She was a vision of beauty wearing white strappy sandals, a flowing pastel-pink lightweight skirt, and a summer-weight white rib-knit top that was fitted very nicely to her feminine curves. Of course, the outfit was properly accessorized with a stylish small white handbag and delicate necklace hanging below the top's modest rounded neckline.

I shouted, "Emily!"

Her face snapped toward me and she screamed, "Michael!" as she sprinted toward me, skirt fluttering in the wind.

We met halfway and she jumped into my arms, hers wrapped around my neck with our cheeks side-by-side, and her feet dangling against my chins.

She whispered in my ear as we held each other tight, "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too! I'm so happy to see you."

After a few moments, our embrace relaxed and I reluctantly squatted so she could regain footing on the sidewalk.

We ordered our standard chili dogs, fries, and root beers and talked non-stop while eating. Emily told me all about the camp carnival and talent show, then we talked about the start of school and class schedules as we concluded our meal and gathered the remaining trash.

I suggested, "It's a really nice day. Would you like to take a walk?"

She smiled and lifted her leg to extend a delicate sandal-covered foot from beneath her skirt, "I was hoping you would ask. I purposely wore flats."

I laughed and we started walking and talking. We meandered through campus and I passively steered us toward Stern Hall, which was a beautiful Gothic-revival stone building with a meticulously maintained central courtyard.

We walked through one of two outdoor passageways leading into the otherwise loggia-enclosed space. Water bubbled and cascaded down a small central fountain that was surrounded by a small circular bluestone plaza and stone benches. Four dogwood trees filtered sunlight from above, while the ground was covered with formally designed boxwood hedges and flower displays.

Emerging from the passageway into the garden, Emily commented, "This place is so beautiful."

We followed a bluestone pathway toward the center of the courtyard and sat on a bench facing the fountain, Emily crossing her legs then smoothing the skirt over her knees.

The time had come, and I tried to settle my nerves before speaking, "Emily, I can't even express how much I missed you this summer. I loved talking on the phone, but it just wasn't the same as being together."

She shook her head in agreement but knew I had more to say, "Your friendship means the world to me Emily. You're an incredibly beautiful woman, inside and out, and you make me a better person... heart, mind, and spirit."

Emily's eyes welled with tears.

"I did a lot of praying over the summer, and God made it clear... I believe His plans for us are larger than just friendship. I think He made us for each other, to be together as husband and wife at some point in the future."

Emily was openly sobbing in anticipation of my next words, "I've spoken with your father, and I would like to commit to pursuing a relationship with you beyond friendship. Will you join me in courtship?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

I pulled the wire bracelet out of my pocket and placed it over her wrist. "I want you to know how much you mean to me. I want you to have this as a symbol of my commitment to you."

She ran her slender fingertips over the scrolled wire, "It's beautiful! I've never seen anything like this before. Where did you get it?"

I was a little ashamed to admit that I didn't have the money to buy real jewelry and sheepishly answered, "The hardware store... kind of... I made it from things I found around the store."

"Really? How did you make it?"

I pointed to the various hardware components and explained how it was all woven together.

"It's beautiful and it's even more special that you made it. I love it!"

*******

In many ways, the start of our courtship wasn't much different than our earlier friendship, except that we knew there was a purpose in the end. We spent time together in the same ways we had before, at church events and at the hardware store, but also started a weekly tradition of Sunday dinner at her parent's house.

We did all the things that typical Powell students do, either just the two of us or with a group of friends; hung out at Muggs, played mini-golf, and got ice cream at the local dairy. According to prudent conservative customs, we always spent time together in public places, or with other people, in order to minimize potential temptations.

Our emotional intimacy grew over the next six months and we openly expressed our affection for each other through words and small physical gestures like holding hands, but remained devoted to our beliefs in Christian integrity and sexual purity.

It all felt very natural, like two people growing into a future life together.

*******

In late January, I realized Valentine's Day was approaching and decided I wanted to do something special for Emily, something more personal than just going to a restaurant for dinner.

She wore the wire bracelet I made her every day, and I decided that a matching necklace would be a great a Valentine's gift. The necklace was larger and more intricate than the bracelet and I worked for about a dozen hours over the course of a week to complete it, then wrapped it in a small flat box.

*******

I walked Emily back to her dorm, hand-in-hand, after our NG study the following Wednesday. We talked about the study's topic of 'predestination' as we strolled along the campus pathways and eventually approached her dorm.

Pausing before saying goodbye, I somewhat timidly probed, "I know what I'm about to ask isn't exactly proper, but I want to do something special for you. Would you like to come over to my apartment for a Valentine's Day dinner? I would really like to cook for you."

I was surprised by Emily's sweetly toned response that showed no sign of hesitation, "Yes, I would like that very much."

She pulled my head down to her level and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before bounding into the dorm.

*******

I wanted our dinner to be perfect and spent most of Valentine's Day afternoon shopping for the meal and decorating the apartment.

Meal planning was a bit of a dilemma. I wanted to make something truly special for Emily, but also needed it to be something I could pull off with my limited culinary skills. While roaming the grocery store aisles looking for inspiration, I found some frozen butternut squash ravioli and decided I could work with that. It even had a recipe on the back of the box for a creamy mushroom sauce with walnuts and sundried tomatoes. I returned from the store with all the necessary ingredients, along with those for a simple side salad.

For decorations, I scattered hundreds of red, pink, and white cut-out hearts randomly throughout the apartment, propping them on horizontal surfaces, taping them to the walls, and hanging them on strings from the exposed rafters. I used similar cut-out hearts to put under the table place-settings and serve as decorative placemats and coasters. As a finishing touch, I springled some sparkly heart-shaped confetti around a centerpiece of red roses and a half dozen staggered-height candles.

The sauce was simmering away, and I was just finishing assembly of a salad when my phone buzzed with a text alert, "I'm here."

I quickly wiped my hands and typed back, "Side door is unlocked. Please lock it and come on up."

I scurried around the apartment lighting candles and was dimming the overhead lights when I heard the delicate clip-clap of heels coming up the third-floor stairs. The footsteps crossed the storage area toward the front of the building and Emily knocked on the propped-open door while announcing her entrance, "Happy Valentine's Day!".

Her beauty radiated in the dimly lit room and I joyfully replied, "Happy Valentine's Day!"

I watched with rapt attention as she slowly took in the hanging forest of paper hearts, illuminated with a combination of candlelight and the soft glow of streetlights coming through the large front windows.

The bottom hemline of a bright red, knee-length skirt drew my attention as it billowed from underneath a chic hip-length black pea coat. The heavily textured lace skirt contrasted against the smooth lines of her black-nylon covered calves and black ankle strap pumps.

After a few moments, Emily remarked with a wondrous tone, "Michael, this is amazing. It's beautiful."

My social awkwardness momentarily returned with the vision of this beautiful woman standing in my apartment, and I cheesily responded, "Not as amazing and beautiful as you."

Emily blushed and presented me a red greeting card envelope, which I set down on the counter while offering to take her coat. I stood behind her and held the lapels of the coat as she shed it over her shoulders. The coat slid downward and revealed a black long-sleeve corded sweater that nicely hugged the slender curves of her torso and arms.

I placed her coat on a hook by the door and said, "Make yourself at home. I just need to finish the pasta, so dinner should be ready in about 10 minutes."

I dropped the ravioli in boiling water as Emily slowly clip-clapped around the small apartment observing the standard furnishings as well as the Valentine's decorations. She would pause occasionally to look at something then move on to something else, until she arrived at the front windows and looked down to the street below.

I approached her silhouetted shape from behind and commented, "I know the apartment isn't much, but it has a good view."

She guided my arms to embrace her from behind, then leaned backwards into me, "I don't care about the apartment. I just care that you are here. But, yes, it is a nice view."

The loud buzz of the kitchen timer disrupted our moment and I excused myself to finish the pasta. I drained the ravioli and tossed it into the simmering sauce before plating and garnishing with sprinkles of walnuts, sundried tomatoes, and shreds of fresh basil.

We talked and ate like we had so many times before, but it felt so much more intimate being in my apartment. Emily's natural beauty was softly highlighted by the flickering candlelight, and she was captivating. I was simply absorbed by her presence, enjoying the way she delicately grasped the fork between her neatly manicured fingers, the way her expressions radiated pure innocent joy when she laughed, and the way she tilted her head to gently sweep errant wisps of strawberry-blond hair behind her ear.

Our bites slowed after a while and we focused more on the conversation than eating. Growing uncomfortable in the hard dining chairs, I shifted in my seat and suggested, "Let's go sit on the sofa."

We both stood and I said, "I'll be right there" as I snuffed the centerpiece candles and deposited a few dirty dishes in the kitchen sink.

Emily sat on the sofa and smoothed the skirt hem over her knees as I grabbed her greeting card off the counter, along with my wrapped gift for her. I was taken by the moment as I sat next to her and looked into her eyes.

"I love you Emily."

Her eyes glistened with moisture as she softly replied, "I love you too."

We looked into each other's eyes for a few short seconds before we intuitively closed the distance between us, our lips briefly coming together for the first time. The tentative close-lipped meeting was very chaste by secular standards, but altogether thrilling for two people who had never experienced a romantic kiss.

We continued gazing into each other's eyes and came together again for a second short kiss. I knew we were crossing a fairly mild, yet very distinct line within conservative Christian standards for sexual purity, and a small internal struggle began developing within me. I used the most obvious available distraction and offered Emily the wrapped gift in my hands.

She carefully unwrapped the flat-shaped box, neatly running a finger beneath the tape to not tear the wrapping paper. Once removed, she slowly lifted the lid to reveal the wire necklace showcased in a bedding of tissue paper.

"Oh, Michael!" she exclaimed as she swept her sweater sleeve up her arm to compare the C-bracelet with the new necklace.

"It's gorgeous! Help me put it on!"