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WITH THE REVERENCE a fine piece of Belgian chocolate deserved, Delaney unwrapped it slowly, sniffing deeply as the rich, milky fragrance infused the space. Next, she rescued a croissant from the depths of her refrigerator, from behind a can of vegan protein powder and the tub of tofu. She’d purchased it from the bakery, praying Roger wouldn’t sniff it out and confront her.
Removing the flaky, buttery bit of flaked-almond-covered goodness from its bag, Delaney was tempted to caress it. She salivated while it crisped in the toaster oven, just enough to warm the almond paste inside. As it toasted, she imagined biting into the pastry, then nibbling some chocolate. The combination would be sheer bliss.
The kitchen came to life, redolent with mouthwatering fragrance. This didn’t go unnoticed by Ruff, but Delaney had wisely prepared in advance for this moment.
“I have a very special treat for you, you miserable fleabag,” she told Ruff, using baby talk as she opened another cabinet and drew out a giant rawhide bone. She smiled at the brainless creature and maintained a kind tone. “Now go away, monster dog, and leave me be so I can enjoy my birthday breakfast in peace.” As if he understood, Ruff clamped his jaws on the bone and scampered off.
“Score one for the human brain and zero for the tiny canine brain.” She marked a line in the air with her finger.
Soon her perfectly warmed croissant was centered on the dessert plate, acquainting itself with the Belgian chocolate. Delaney didn’t bother suppressing an anticipatory giggle. She held the plate beneath her nose, closed her eyes and breathed in. Her celebratory indulgence smelled luscious.
“Happy Valentine birthday to me!” she cooed, doing an impromptu little dance around the kitchen.
She realized it might be somewhat extreme for a grown woman to get this excited over a piece of chocolate and a croissant, but she supposed there were other diet-policed spouses who became just as enthusiastic about secretly rendezvousing with a sporadic sinful indulgence too. All she cared about right now was sinking her teeth into her treats and sipping her rich, bold coffee spiked with real sugar and the honest to goodness dairy cream that she’d hid in an empty tub of soy margarine.
Delaney set her retro turquoise dessert plate on the table next to a matching cup and saucer. After posing Teddy, with his tan body and turquoise bowtie, against the sugar bowl, she paused a moment to admire the inviting still life she’d created.
She took a photo with her camera, smiling at the result. “Just like Rembrandt.” When she got to the office she’d text it to Grandma Bekka and the rest of the family in Glassfloat Bay.
She kept her colorful kitchenware hidden in the pantry and kitchen cabinets because Roger claimed her choice of turquoise accessories caused an imbalance in his chakras.
Tranquil smile still in place, Delaney gave the culinary setting a final appreciative glance before turning and heading for the coffeepot.
What happened next was so rapid and ghastly it seemed more like something out of a horror movie than real life.
The hound from hell swooped into the kitchen while her back was turned, stole her treasured birthday delights from their plate and sped from the room, absconding to the safety of a corner beneath one of the end tables in the living room.
A scream gurgled up from Delaney’s throat as she watched the grisly event unfold. Her shrill cry of outrage sounded inhuman, even to her own ears.
Unwilling to surrender her birthday breakfast without a fight, Delaney followed the dog, getting to her hands and knees and crawling under the table, ready to snatch the remaining uneaten half of the croissant and the small piece of chocolate from the beast’s grubby paws. Closely guarding his bounty, Ruff gave a toothy warning growl, which Delaney returned with a growl of her own.
“Goddammit, it’s mine, you croissant-thieving sonuvabitch. Mine! Besides, you fur-covered moron, chocolate is poisonous for dogs.”
She extended her hand and the devil dog’s nostrils flared. His maniacal glare suggested he was fully prepared to snap off her fingers with his fangs should she dare encroach on his prize.
“I’m trying to save your worthless life, you idiot,” Delaney reasoned. “Now hand over the chocolate before it kills you or, I swear to God, I’ll kill you myself!”
The damned dog not only ignored her plea, it sneered at her in dogly triumph as it wolfed down more of its treasure.
Whipped, beaten and cruelly betrayed by the creature she’d gone out of her way to purchase a behemoth-sized rawhide bone for, Delaney begrudgingly renounced her claim on the remaining food and trudged back to the kitchen.
A few crispy flakes of dough, a smattering of sliced almonds, and microscopic bits of chocolate dotted her wet-from-dog-spit plate. Crazed beyond reason, Delaney gathered every last speck with her fingertips, depositing the tiny treasure on her tongue. If she died later that day from a strain of deadly antibiotic resistant dog saliva bacteria, then so be it.
At least she still had her coffee. As she was about to sip from her cup, Ruff’s bizarre, hacking noise caught Delaney’s attention. He looked terrible and sounded even worse.
In between horrific sound blasts, which Delaney feared must be a canine death rattle, the blameworthy croissant stealer gave Delaney a sorrowful, beseeching look that clutched at her heart.
She was fairly certain if he could speak he’d be saying, “I am so sorry I thoughtlessly stole your Valentine birthday breakfast and ruined your morning, Delaney, but I can’t help being a dumb dog who acts on sheer impulse, and now I’m paying for my unforgiveable transgression by dying, so please, oh please won’t you take pity on me and save my worthless life?”
“Oh God, oh God...how will I ever explain to Roger that I killed his dog with chocolate?” Delaney bit her nails. “The vet. I have to call the vet!” Racing back to her phone she looked through her contacts, stopping when she heard gagging followed by the unmistakable sound of retching.
She looked up to see Ruff barfing chocolate all over the rug.
“No!” It was more a stunned gasp of disbelief than a command.
And then came the pooping.
“Oh Ruff,” Delaney’s face contorted, “no...nooo!”
Within ten minutes, clearly no longer in the throes of death, Ruff was spry and chipper, joyfully galloping around the house while Delaney gathered a bucket, pine-scented disinfectant cleaner and plenty of hot water to deal with his mess.
“Happy effing birthday to me,” she spat as she scrubbed, eradicating German Shepherd donkey vomit and all other evidence of the birthday breakfast that never was, all the while contemplating the assassination of the loathsome dog.
Glancing at the wall clock when she’d finally finished, Delaney’s shoulders slumped. Because of the rotten, conniving animal, she didn’t even have enough time to sit down and enjoy a cup of birthday coffee before leaving. She poked her finger in the cup she’d poured. It was cold now anyway. Emitting a sigh that sounded more like a wounded moose call, she cleaned up and eliminated all evidence that she’d made coffee, sprayed the kitchen with room deodorizer, and headed for the bedroom to get ready for work.
“Don’t think I’m going to forget this, you four-legged bully,” she promised the gleeful dog. “Ever.” With a narrow-eyed gaze, she added, “And wipe that smug look off your satisfied muzzle, or I’ll do it for you.”
Clearly terrified, Ruff wagged his tail in response, slanting his head this way and that while doing his best to look adorable.
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Arriving at her receptionist job at the local newspaper Delaney found a card and a vanilla-frosted yellow cupcake with a candle centered on her desk. A department store gift card was tucked inside the envelope, along with hand-scrawled notes from Paul Richardson, her boss and editor-in-chief, and all the staff congratulating her on the debut of her column.
She especially appreciated their kind thoughtfulness after the morning she’d had.
Over the next hour she enjoyed short, pleasant conversations with her mom, sisters and brothers who’d called to wish her happy birthday. Her boss didn’t mind her taking occasional personal calls as long as it didn’t interfere with her work, and Delaney never abused the privilege.
“Good morning, Northwest Suburban Gazette,” she said, answering another call. An instant later she grinned as a chorus of cheery voices boomed, “Gratulerer med dagen, Delaney!” It was Norwegian for happy birthday. A boisterous round of Happy Birthday, sung in English, followed.
“Thank you, Grandma Bekka. Happy Valentine’s Day to you and your friends!” None of Bekka’s friends or neighbors were Norwegian or spoke the language but she’d taught them this birthday phrase well.
“We’re all here at Griffin’s Café,” Bekka told her, “toasting you with steamy cups of cocoa and a big platter of your sister’s almond cherry scones.” Delaney’s spirits brightened. This call was exactly what she needed after her stressful morning.
“Oh what I wouldn’t give for one of Laila’s delicious scones! I miss those, and I miss you so much, Grandma.”
“I miss you too, min kjære.” It meant my dear.
“I really love the beautiful hat and scarf you knitted for me. Thank you.”
“Good! I was hoping they’d arrive in time for your birthday.”
“The lavender yarn is so soft and pretty. What kind is it?”
“Mohair. I got it from String Me Along, the yarn shop in town. I think your sister, Reen, spends more time there than the owner.” Bekka’s laughter was like a tinkling bell. “You wouldn’t believe how professional Reen’s knitting and crochet projects have become.”
“Unlike me, Reen’s a natural when it comes to all things yarn related,” Delaney said, withdrawing the crocheted teddy bear from her purse. It was the one she’d placed in her kitchen cabinet with the chocolate bar in its lap.
Setting it next to the other handmade critters on her desk, she said, “I used the crochet pattern you sent me for the teddy bear. It turned out really cute.” She angled her head, eyeing the slightly lopsided stuffed animal, deciding her favorable appraisal might be a teensy exaggeration.
“Hold on a second and I’ll send you a picture of Teddy.”
A moment after she’d sent the text, Grandma Bekka oohed and aahed. “So cute! Oh what a wonderful job you did, Delaney.”
Chuckling, Delaney knew the bear could have looked like a blindfolded five-year-old made it and Bekka would still praise it like it was museum-worthy.
“I made the bowtie a little too big,” Delaney fingered the floppy tie, “and one ear’s bigger than the other, but I think it suits him. I still have a long way to go to be as good as you, Mom, or Reen. Once I’m better at crochet I want to learn how to knit too.”
“I’ve been teaching knitting classes at String Me Along. You can take one when you come to visit me. We’ll have so much fun.”
“I’d love that. Nothing like learning from the best.” Delaney wished she could fly to Oregon to visit Bekka but there was no way she could afford it, and no way Roger would agree to foot the bill. As they chatted, she bent to pick up the envelope that had slipped out of her purse when she’d pulled out the bear.
Bekka traveled to Illinois every couple of years to visit but as she grew older, Delaney worried each visit might be her last. Thankfully, her grandmother sounded as lively and healthy as ever.
In between answering company calls, Delaney and her grandmother caught up on what had happened since their last conversation. Delaney studied the sealed envelope as they spoke. Her name was scrawled on it in Roger’s handwriting.
A birthday card? A Valentine? It would be the first of either in ten years, so she doubted it. But then, she had noticed changes in him lately.
She used to wish he might suddenly have an Ebenezer Scrooge-like epiphany, embracing birthdays and holidays, especially Christmas and all the merriment of the season. Not only didn’t Roger celebrate the holiday, he also frowned on Delaney making what he considered a garish spectacle by putting up a tree or any decorations.
Maybe he’d seen the light. Maybe he’d been purposely tough on her this morning so she wouldn’t suspect he had a birthday surprise in store for her.
The envelope had Delaney imagining her husband seated at his desk, writing his first ever love letter to her. Or perhaps it was a poem...an ode to his wife on her Valentine birthday. How befitting for an English professor.
She wondered if it could be tickets for theater and dinner. The tingle of excitement she felt was brand new. Roger had never been one for surprises.
She told Bekka about the envelope, listening as her grandmother excitedly told “the girls” that it seemed her granddaughter had received her first ever love letter from her husband.
“Haven’t I always told you to have faith in your dreams?” Bekka asked. “And to believe that one day you’d find the happiness you desire and deserve?”
Turning the envelope back and forth, extending the delicious sense of anticipation, Delaney nodded. “You did indeed, Grandma. It seems Roger tucked the envelope into my purse as a surprise so I’d find it when I got to work. I’m amazed. And to think...it’s only taken ten years.” She laughed and Bekka followed suit. “Hold on. I’ll open it and tell you what’s inside.”
The envelope held a folded sheet of paper, Roger’s official university stationery.
“Ooh, it’s a handwritten birthday letter, Grandma!” Giddy, she read aloud. “Dear Del, I’ve orchestrated it so that you’ll open and read this letter once you get to work. It’s best that way since you tend to be overly emotional...”
A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed hard. She doubted Roger was talking about her becoming overcome with joy. “...and will, hopefully, be less prone to making an embarrassing scene in public.”
Oh God...
A distinctly disagreeable warmth flushed through her. Delaney steadied her shaking hand before continuing. “I regret to inform you that I am leaving you.” Struck with disbelief, she sucked in a sharp breath.
“Oh no...my poor little Delaney,” Bekka said.
“It’s...it’s okay, Grandma. Really, I’m okay,” she lied, brushing a fat tear from her cheek before answered a business call. “Good morning, Northwest Suburban Gazette,” she said, doing her best to sound like her usual cheery self. A moment later she returned to Bekka’s call.
“Tell me what else Roger had to say,” Bekka said, all traces of levity now absent from her voice. “I want to hear everything.”
Thankful the business calls were few this morning, Delaney was relieved to be able to talk to her grandmother. She continued reading aloud from the letter.
“Our lack of compatibility or common interests has long been apparent. More importantly, my patience with your apparent dearth of interest or initiative to improve yourself, even though I’ve offered you my guidance repeatedly, has been exhausted.”
She paused, staring at the letter, meticulously examining what she’d just read, certain she’d misunderstood it. Roger simply wouldn’t do something like this. He wouldn’t.
After a lingering silence, Bekka said, “Delaney? Honey? Are you okay?”
Shaking off her initial shock, Delaney replied, “Yes...I’m here, Grandma. I’m okay. Here’s the rest of the letter.” She took a fortifying breath and continued. “I have found a more compatible mate with whom to spend my life. A graduate student of English at the university, this young woman is still impressionable enough to be molded to my ideology.”
Her hand flying to her chest, Delaney gasped.
“It is my earnest desire that you too will find a suitable companion in time. I recommend that you focus on the self-improvement necessary to become a woman of worth for a future partner.”
Delaney’s teary eyes bugged. “A woman of worth?” His heartless words were like a knife to her heart.
Her grandmother muttered something in Norwegian.
“By the time you get home from work,” Delaney continued to read, “you’ll find I’ve cleared out all my personal belongings, including the blender and library of nutrition books since they’d only gather dust in your care. My attorney will be in touch with you shortly. As soon as I am able, I’ll return for my dog, Ruff.”
Seized by the overwhelming desire to laugh and cry at the same time, Delaney succumbed to both, doing her utmost to hold it together, lest she live down to Roger’s expectations and create a scene at work.
“Lucky me,” Delaney said to Bekka. “I get to be caretaker for my husband’s monster dog. What a prince Roger is. He woke me an hour earlier than usual this morning, obviously lying about going in for a meeting on his day off. I can’t believe I actually spent my birthday morning catering to his whiny breakfast requirements so he and his compatible new grammatically correct girlfriend could ride off into the sunset together.”
She bit her lip to keep from swearing, but Grandma Bekka had a few choice words of her own to share.
“That son of a bitch!”
The words, complete with her heavy Norwegian accent, sounded so strange coming from the elderly woman that Delaney couldn’t help laughing. It was the first time she’d ever heard her grandmother say anything off color.
They spoke a short while longer, with Delaney ensuring her there was no need to worry. The last thing she wanted was for her grandma to be upset on her account, especially since she was so far away.
“You’ve always taught me there’s a silver lining for every cloud.” Delaney did her best to sound lighthearted as her heart shattered. “I believe that with all my heart, Grandma. Don’t worry...I really, truly do.”
Her grandma didn’t need to know that Delaney no longer believed in silver linings.
She wanted to end their conversation with a cheerful quip, saying something silly, but any glib comment stuck in her throat.
She ended the call on a calm note, exceedingly thankful she had to tend to the suddenly busy phones, which allowed her little time to think...and no opportunity to give in to bawling like a baby.
Dear Diary: The bad news is that my husband cruelly left me on my Valentine birthday for a graduate student who seems an ideal match for Roger. The good news is that I’ll be stopping by a barbecue joint so I can pig out on baby back ribs for dinner tonight.
Delaney picked up the crooked little teddy bear, hugging it to her chest.