This is why I had to write this.
This is why I was so madly in love with him.
“I want to buy you something.”
“Okay…” I narrowed my eyes. “What do you want to buy me?”
“Something you’re not allowed to see until I’ve found it.”
I looked around at the overflowing baskets of tea-towels and dog collars. This place had everything from shampoo and cookies to Easter and Halloween decorations. “And you’ll find it in here?” I raised an eyebrow. “What exactly are you up to?”
“Call it…a gesture of a future eventuality.”
I laughed, drawing the attention of the mid-twenties cashier sucking on a lollypop. “I think we need to get you back into the forest. The city is infecting you with retail therapy and commercial advertisement.”
“You did say shopping with me was a novelty.” He smirked. “While I find what I want for you, you find me something.”
“Like what?” My heart sprang into action, acting nonchalant but already rushing with images of finding the perfect gift. We’d shared many birthdays, but apart from my ribbon tattoo that Ren paid for, and the willow horse he carved back at Cherry River, we had no keepsakes or mementos. Not that we had space.
“Go on.” Ren pointed down an aisle full of ugly porcelain vases and weird bachelorette party gimmicks—let me tell you there were a lot of penises: penis straws, penis shot glasses, penis aprons, and unicorn horns shaped like dildos. “You trying to tell me I’m missing an appendage you want, Ren?” I couldn’t stifle my snicker. “’Cause you know, I rather like playing with yours so I can see the allure—”
“Honestly, Della.” He grabbed my bicep, yanking me into the aisle and away from the nosy sales keeper. “You always know how to get a rise out of me, don’t you?” His voice was brash with temper, but his eyes glowed like chocolate syrup.
Things with wings erupted in my heart as I stood on tiptoes just as Ren’s mouth crashed down on mine.
He kissed me so fierce and swift, I stumbled backward, directly into a shelf of penises with wind up legs that all bounced and whirred from the unwanted collision.
We broke apart, laughing as penis after miniature penis committed suicide off the shelf.
“You break it, you pay for it!” a voice yelled from the front of the store.
Ren and I only laughed harder.
Funny how memories like that—the ones that are so simple and stupid—are the ones that stick in your head with such clarity you can transport back to every smell, heartbeat, and yearning.
I want to share every detail, but I also want to rush and tell you what Ren bought for me and I bought for him. Because, honestly, they were two gifts that became our most treasured belongings. No mud, snow, dust, or grime could make us remove them. Even now, I still wear it. Even now, after so long.
“Ten minutes, Little Ribbon.” Ren kissed the tip of my nose. “And no peeking at where I go.”
“I have no idea what to get you, so I’ll be using those ten minutes wisely, not stalking you.”
“Good.”
“Fine.” I grinned. “See you at the cash register.”
“No, see you outside. Here.” Forcing a twenty-dollar bill into my hand, he kissed my cheek as if he couldn’t not kiss me whenever we were close. “Pay for what you find and meet me on the street.”
* * * * *
Sorry, I let memories take over and forgot to type.
Who knew writing about something so silly would be so utterly heart-breaking—not because it was sad but because it was so good?
So perfect.
So sweet.
I was so incredibly lucky, and I’m just glad I recognised just how lucky, rather than take Ren for granted.
The older I get, and the more I grow, I’m always struck by two things:
One, no matter my age, I always feel the same. No more adult than child or wise than stupid. I keep expecting myself to snap into a grown-up, but it’s never happened.
And two, nothing beat just hanging out with Ren.
Nothing.
No trip or gift or fancy new experience.
Nothing could beat just existing with the love of my life.
Remembering is almost bittersweet, but I suppose I better finish this particular chapter before I close my laptop and go in search of the very man I’m writing about.
I’ll skip over the mad rush through the carnival ride of junk and pointless figurines and
not bother to mention the adrenaline rush of finding such a random, childish, and exquisitely perfect gift that Ren would no doubt roll his eyes at and laugh in that affectionate, perfect way of his. The way that opened his entire face from suspicion and ruthlessness into a window of trust and devotion.
I couldn’t stand still as I waited for him on the curb and spun to face him when the junk store bell jingled.