The day started out as any other. The silence in the townhouse encompassed everything he did. He showered and dressed quickly before heading into the living room. As he passed by the wall calendar he noted that the day's date was circled in red. He tried to figure out why he wanted to remember that day.
As he poured milk into a bowl of cereal, he remembered. Today was the day. He knew she was married, he knew that she had a young daughter, but that didn't matter. He was tired of keeping everyone out; he needed to share this with someone. Heaven knew she had tried to get him to open up, but he always refused. Lately it had been a game between them when they worked together. She would ask and he would do something to change the subject.
After he cleaned up his breakfast, he went back to the bedroom and searched for the box he needed. Pulling it down from the top shelf he opened it and smiled. It was absurd, but maybe, just maybe she would agree.
The shift went by agonizingly slow. She worked with another member of the team and he spent most of his time logging in paperwork and helping the other two on their case. Finally the hour he was waiting for came. He placed the beat-up box on his desk and waited for her.
At first she hadn't noticed the box. But after the third time that he reached around it she had to ask. "Gris, what's with the box?"
"This? Just something I found when I was cleaning up this afternoon," he fabricated.
"What's in it?"
"Have a look for yourself." He watched as she gently lifted the box up. Judging by her reaction to its weight, she hadn't expected it to be that. The box was roughly the size of an old record album and it was decorated in faded autumnal colors.
She opened the box and found his secret. He spent the last seven years looking for something that she would like, but would also express how much he valued her.
"Where did you find this?"
"I drew it. Your description of it was so vivid that I had to make it a reality"
He could see tears form in her eyes as she removed the gift from the box. The paper in her hands rustled a little as she handled it. He had spent a long time working on it. Every element he did on his own. He even took a few lessons from his neighbor to get it just right. It was now or never. He needed to ask her. "Catherine, will you take me there someday?
His voice was so soft and gentle that she almost didn't hear him. The picture had overwhelmed her. She remembered telling him about some of her fondest memories of growing up on a ranch, but she never guessed that he could put all her words into a drawing that captured how she felt when she was young and innocent. In his own way he was giving it back to her, telling her that she would be able to return to a time where she was free. Even though she was very much a city person, a small part of her longed for the reprieve from living on the go.
"Someday," she agreed. It wouldn't be for a while, but someday she would return and he would be there to share it. Until then she was thankful for having a friend that wanted her to know that he cared for her no matter what happened.