Brown Paper Package, Tied Up with String

Of all the wedding presents that Shayleen and Max received for their big day, the one that stood out was the one that wasn't wrapped in gold and white and glitter. There wasn't any indication who gave it. No one could remember who brought it and they almost missed it when they were opening their gifts after their honeymoon, their living room piled high with tissue paper, gaudy gift bags, and colored ribbons.

"What's this box wrapped in brown paper?" Max asked as he stuffed trash into a bin to burn. He handed the box to Shayleen. "Did you order something?"

Shayleen took it and turned it over. Tied with brown twine, it was a simple box, twelve by twelve by six. "I have no idea what--hold on..." She looked closer. Down at the bottom edge was written, 'Max and Shayleen: Congrats! Don't open until your first big disagreement.' No signature."

"Is that really what it says?" Max plopped down beside her on the couch again to look.

"Do you recognize the handwriting?" she asked. He shook his head. "Let's open it!" He made as if to start tearing into it but his wife snatched it away.

"No! We can't open it!"

"Oh, yeah??" he lunged across her to get to the package. But she knew that tone of voice and pushed him off.

"I see what you're doing--and I won't take the bait. We're not going to have a fake argument just so you can open this box."

"C'mon...didn't you sneak around and look at your presents before Christmas when you were a kid??" he wheedled.

"No, I didn't. And I enjoyed Christmas day more than you, too, I'll bet."

"Fair," he gave her. "But you really think that we shouldn't even open a gift--for our WEDDING--just because of some cryptic note? We don't even know who gave it!"

"That is correct. I think we should hang onto it until instructed," Shayleen said firmly, placing the box beside her. "Besides, look at all these gifts," she pointed to the stacks of cutting boards, bowls, throw rugs, knife sets, and clever salt-and-pepper shakers. "I doubt if it's something we really needed--and just something special or thoughtful."

"Or quirky," Max said, holding up some hand-made kitchen towels covered in lace and bubble-painted hearts.

So they put the box away on the top shelf of the linen closet. At first, it was a joke. When they had a mild tiff over who forgot that they were out of milk or who watched ahead on the TV show they were enjoying together, Max would get it out and tease that they should open it. Shayleen would laugh--which was what Max was after--and they'd put the box away again.

But after a while, they forgot about it. It wasn't meaningful, really, and wasn't useful, and they just...forgot it was up there. At one point, Shayleen thought of it, and Max wasn't even positive where it was. They weren't the blow-up kind of couple--the kind who can't imagine that anyone else doesn't scream when they're angry. They were the kind who talked quietly and calmly and got mildly irritated with each other, who went on quiet walks alone to think things over or read a book and then apologized. What even was a "big disagreement" for people like them?

They had been married five years and it was Max's birthday. The last few months had been less than ideal. The economy had taken a downturn and Max had lost his job. Shayleen only worked part-time, and they were being careful with their pennies. Max hadn't even wanted a birthday celebration, but Shayleen insisted. She made a cake and got him a couple of small gifts. But it was the second present that Shayleen was nervously waiting for. Max got to it, a small, brightly colored bag, and pulled out a t-shirt. He spread out the shirt and stared...

"Well?" Shayleen asked. "Read it out loud!"

"World's Best Dad," Max read, soundly strangled. He was quiet, then almost expressionlessly, he said, "How long have you known?"

This was not what all those husband-reveal videos online had led Shayleen to expect. This certainly wasn't what she expected from Max. "I-I just took a test a couple of days ago," she said uncertainly. "Aren't you... excited?"

"Well, yeah, I mean--this is just so...out of the blue...I--I thought we were going to wait?" He ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

"We have waited...and even if you're doing everything you can to 'wait' you can't control this kind of thing 100%." She was a bit shaken by the expression on his face. Then her eyes got wide. "Wait...do you think I was trying to get pregnant without telling you?"

"Shay, we're struggling right now. How can we take care of a third human?"

There it was--a wall that they hadn't seen coming, and they were on either side of it. Shayleen stared uncomprehendingly at her husband, desperate for him to understand her elation and terror at this new experience that would envelop every inch of her, emotion and body. Who was he? He stared back, eyes glazed over, completely shocked by the revelation. Him? A father? Could they feed this baby? Could he care for Shayleen? What was going to happen to his little family?

Shayleen wasn't a crier, but she was suddenly overwhelmed by hurt and loneliness. Hot tears suddenly washed her face. Not caring to cry in front of anyone, even Max, she dashed out of the apartment, snatching some tissues on the way. Max watched her go, just as shocked at her sudden tears as he had been at the t-shirt.

He found her some 20 minutes later, tucked under a small weeping willow tree that shielded her from nosy neighbors. He had often seen her under its arched, leafy branches with her morning coffee. He pushed aside some long fronds and made as if to knock. "Can I come in?" There was a brown paper-covered box tied with string in his hand. Shayleen looked at him; he'd been crying, too.

She scooted over as if to make room. "Sorry for crying, I just...just..." And he was down beside her with his arm around her, and they were sniffling on each other's shoulders.

"I got snot on your shirt," she told him, finally pulling away.

"Don't look at yours," he answered. "And don't be sorry. I'll bet when you found out you were as shocked as I was."

"Yeah...is there a shock-less way to find out?"

"Maybe we can come up with one, and maybe...maybe we should open this box..."

"Right," she laughed.

"I mean it this time. I mean--for a long time, it honestly was a good reminder to me of what we promised on our wedding day. We were supposed to love and care for each other and winning an argument wasn't the point. We're on the same team. The box reminded me of that. But then we forgot about it, and I think...I think it should serve it's final purpose. I'm pretty sure that whoever gave it to us never expected us to wait this long, anyway."

Shayleen gave a small smile and leaned her head on his shoulder. "To be honest, it kind of became of symbol of how well we were doing for me--not having any crazy fights that the police had to be called over for. We were doing fine."

"Well," Max said slowly, "maybe it's time to have other symbols that tell us that. I don't know what, but I think we know better what we're doing now, and I think...I think it's time. What do you say?"

"I'm in," Shayleen answered, and together, Max and Shayleen opened their last wedding present.