Duke's Gift

"Honey, I left a package on the back seat of the car last night, did you see it?" my husband called from our car in the garage.

"Oh no!" I thought to myself. Dennis was always after me about locking the car doors when I parked in public. But the middle of summer is no time to roll up windows while the car sits in direct sunlight in a parking lot. So when I did the shopping today I left the windows down, the doors unlocked.

"No..o..o.." I drug the word out, stalling for time to make up an excuse. Madly thinking what package could he have left, how valuable was it? How angry was he going to be? There had been a rash of car break-ins in the neighborhood in the last month. Probably just kids, they would only hit cars that had the windows down or the doors unlocked. And they only grabbed items that were loose on or under the seats. Dennis had insisted we be vigilant about locking the doors. "Not that we ever have anything of value in there, but just on principle," he had said.

Still, whatever the package was, it must have been important. Dennis was giving the car a very thorough going through, looking under the seats, in the door pockets, even between the seat and the doors. Whatever was in the package must have been extremely valuable.

And then it hit me. No, it couldn't be, could it? He never remembered, why would this year be any different? It was always only after my mom would call and remind him, that he would suddenly remember an appointment and run out of the house to buy me a birthday gift.

I winced as I asked, "What did it look like?"

"Rectangle, approximately 14 inches by 10 inches by 5 inches, wrapped in brown paper and tan string run in both directions and tied into a bow. Weighs approximately 8 ounces." So like my husband to be so precise. I love the man but he is an engineer and thinks in precision rather than creativity. It would be so very like him to buy an expensive diamond bracelet, drop it into a shoe box and wrap it in plain brown paper tied up with string.

Unable to bear the guilt I burst into tears and began apologizing.

"There, there," Dennis wrapped his arms around me, patted my back and tried to soothe me. "What is wrong?'

"I'm so sorry, I left the windows open and now someone stole my gift."

"Your gift?" he asked, then muttered under his breath, "ah shit, is it a birthday or anniversary I forgot?"

Turning his focus back to me, he said, "It's okay honey, that wasn't your gift, your gift is, uh, um, at my office. Yeah, it's in my desk. I bought it last week and took it to the office because Maria offered to help me wrap it."

Yup, he forgot my birthday again. Just as fast as they came, the tears were gone. So was the guilt.

"So what was in that package?"

"Well, I figured you would forget to lock the car," he gave me a look that made it clear I would be forgiven for leaving the car unlocked and he would be forgiven for forgetting my birthday again, "so I wrapped up a little something special as a surprise for whoever stole it."

He just grinned at the memory. Sometimes, when he grinned like that, I forgot he was a 35 year old man and saw the 15 year old prankster he once had been, full of mischief and fun.

"Go on," I prompted.

"Remember I took Duke for his walk last night?” I nodded, still not following what walking our 100 pound German Shepherd had to do with a stolen package. “That's why I wanted to be sure the package wasn't in the car in the heat.”

It took me a minute, then when he saw the realization spreading on my face, he laughed and said, "It was Dukie's dookie."