Paper Hearts and Handmade Envelopes
I hated Valentine's Day as I child. I hated it as a teenager. And now I hated it even more.
It was like being in elementary school all over again, looking around the Red Wings locker room. In each stall there were Valentine's--some from children, others from wives, girlfriends, boyfriends...and yet mine was bare, save a picture of Presley and me which had been there for years. I'd tried to ignore it, pretending I wasn't concerned, but in all reality, it sucked. I wanted a sappy card from someone declaring his love for me. Or a simple one written in crayon from a niece or nephew or something. It felt like I was the kid with coke-bottle glasses and bad hair in third grade again.
Ray Whitney was hanging up a very messy Valentine, with scribbled crayon hearts and mounds of pink and silver glitter. He smiled with pride when he noticed me looking at it. "Hanna made that. She can't really write words yet, but she did her best..."
Damn, he glowed when he talked about her. Which made him even more attractive. I nodded and forced a grin, "It's cute. She's quite the artist." I tried to finish putting my gear on as quickly as possible. I needed to get away from all the damned red paper hearts and the cartoon character Valentines.
After practice, I stood for a long time with the hot water of the shower spraying on my back. By the time I was done, the locker room was nearly empty, except for Steve and Pavel, who were both getting ready to leave. As soon as they were gone, I sat down in my stall, now wearing just a pair of jeans, and stared around the room at each locker.
"Be Mine," said one Valentine in Kris' stall, undoubtedly with a message from one of his children on the back. Steve had one with intricate drawings from Isabella, not to mention the less painstakingly detailed cards from his other two daughters.
I sighed to myself and pulled my shirt on, standing up and turning my back to the room, hanging my equipment in my locker. It wasn't until I rested my elbow pads on the top shelf that I noticed it. A small white square, a seemingly handmade envelope lay there, with my name scribbled on the back in red crayon. Next to that was another envelope, this time pink with my name in purple marker. A few more envelopes were underneath that.
I opened the first one carefully, smiling when I found a heart-shaped piece of red construction paper, with a short message from Steve's daughters, with each one's name signed at the bottom. Next was from Darren's kids, and then Kris', and Cheli's...each member of the team with children, there was a card representing them. By the time I got to the last envelope, my eyes were brimming with tears, and I couldn't stop smiling.
In the last envelope, there were two cards. The one in front was a cartoon, with the name, "Hanna" scribbled messily in colored pencil. Behind that, there was a folded heart with nothing on the front. I opened it slowly, and when I saw the message, my heart leapt into my throat.
"Be my Valentine?" it asked simply.
Hanna...she was Ray's daughter. So if this was in with her card...
"Are you going to answer?" Ray whispered from the doorway. I spun to look at him, my eyes wide. He laughed softly, "I realized a few days ago that everyone else had someone to give them a Valentine, and you didn't. I couldn't let you go without any."
I held up the last Valentine, biting my lip, "Is this one from you?" my voice was strained from the lump in my throat, but I got the words out.
He stepped slowly towards me, arching an eyebrow, "Maybe. What's your answer?"
I nodded and burst into a wide smile, throwing my arms around his neck. "Of course I'll be your Valentine..."
He tilted his head toward mine so that our noses touched, and whispered, "Happy Valentine's Day, Kirk." Then his lips pressed lightly to mine, soft and warm, and I melted against him.
Maybe Valentine's Day wasn't so bad after all.
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