for the money.
“That was a damn nice thing you just did, Emily Thorn.”
“It was damn nice of you to pay up, Dr. Thorn.”
“That’s because we’re just two damn nice people. Sometimes I lose track of that, Emily.”
“I know, Ian, I do too.” Either she was dead and in heaven or this was all a dream. Whatever it was, she didn’t want it to end. Days like this, times like this, over the past years were so few and far apart she could count them on both hands. At that moment she knew she’d sell her soul to the devil if she could have wonderful moments like this every day for the rest of her life. Well, it wasn’t going to happen, so she didn’t need to concern herself with it. Instead she would enjoy today and pray that sometime soon another day such as this one would come along. She hoped it would be during the Christmas holidays.
“Well, if you’re ready, we’re off to my surprise. Actually, Emily, it’s sort of a surprise and a Christmas present all rolled into one. It’s for both of us. I know how women are about such things so I said it was for you, but I meant it was for us to share. I think you’ll understand when we get there.”
All Emily heard were the words share and together. A unit like cream and sugar, salt and pepper. Ian and Emily. A couple. Don’t let this end, don’t let it come crashing down around me, Emily prayed silently.
Twenty minutes later, Ian swung the car onto Watchung Avenue. They were driving past the clinic, but Ian didn’t bother to even look out the window. They went through the traffic lights and up the hill. She couldn’t make out the street signs at all.
“This is Sleepy Hollow Road. It’s nice back in here, isn’t it?”
“Maybe we should think about looking here for a house when we’re ready to buy. I could see us living here, Ian.”
“I can too,” Ian said cheerfully. “We’re here.”
“Who lives here?” Emily asked in awe as she stared at the brightly lighted English Tudor with the huge Christmas wreath on the front door. “Ian, if this is a party, I’m not dressed. We reek of onions and sauerkraut.”
Ian literally dragged her from the car and hand in hand they ran to the front door. Ian continued to play the game by knocking on the door and then ringing the doorbell. “C’mon, open up,” he bellowed.
“Ian, shhhh,” Emily said.
“Guess I’ll have to open it myself.” Emily watched, her eyes round, as her husband fitted a shiny new key into the lock. The door swung open.
Before she knew what was happening, Ian scooped her up and carried her over the threshold. “Welcome to your new home, Mrs. Thorn.”
“What?” Emily squealed as Ian set her down. “Ohhhhh, Ian, this is too much. I know I’m dreaming.” Ian pinched her rump and she squealed again. “Is this really ours?”
“In a manner of speaking. It belongs to the corporation, but technically, yes, it belongs to us.”
“How? Where? I don’t understand. It’s wonderful. It’s beautiful. Did you do all this yourself?”
Ian held up his hands. “Remember Mrs. Waller? The house belonged to her estate. The time was right, I guess, and no, I did not do this myself. I hired a decorator, and before you can think it much less say it, decorating isn’t your forte nor is it mine. I told the woman what you liked and what I liked and this is what we got. Of course, if you don’t like it, you can change it. She even put up the Christmas tree. The front door wreath was a gift from her. We have to decorate the tree. I know how you like to do that. I had some boys bring all the stuff from the basement over this afternoon. It’s in the garage. I thought we’d do it later after the hot dogs digest. Do you like it, Emily?”
“Oh, Ian, I love it. However did you keep this from me?”
“It wasn’t easy,” Ian said jovially. “Why don’t you look around while I pop the cork on a bottle of champagne. Emily, I’m trying to keep my promise to you to give you everything in the world. This is a start. Would you like a fire?”
Emily threw her arms around her husband. “Oh, Ian, I love you so much. Thank you for this, thank you so much. Yes to the fire and yes to the champagne.”
When Emily returned from her inspection of the house, Ian said, “Did you go down to the basement. No! Half of the basement is for you so you can plant in the winter. I had them install grow lights. There must be at least a thousand flats down there and every seed known to Burpee. I expect some wonderful salads this summer with flowers in every room of the house. I’d appreciate it if you’d plant a lot of tulips, every color they come in. Will you do that?”
“Of course. Ian,” she said, dropping to the floor next to him in front of the fire. “Why are we sitting on the floor?”
“I like sitting on the floor in front of a fire. I thought we could make love here. It’s toasty and we need to christen our new house.”
“Sounds good. Hit me,” she said, holding out her wineglass. “Do we have any more of this. I like it.”
“Two more bottles. One’s for Christmas Eve, though. I want you to do something for me, Emily. Don’t look like that, I’m not going to say I changed my mind about something. This concerns you,” he said, handing her a pen and a paper napkin. “Write down every single thing you could ever possibly want. Everything, no matter how big or small. There’s no limit. If you need two napkins, that’s okay, too.”
“Everything, Ian?”
“I promised you whatever your heart desires. Start writing, honey.”
“My very own wish list. I don’t know where to start. I guess I don’t have to put down a house since we already have it. I’ll start big, okay?”
“Whatever you want, Emily?”
Emily wrote steadily for what seemed like a long time. When she had finished, she handed the list to Ian. It was a shy gesture, her eyes looking everywhere but at her husband.
Ian read the list aloud, to Emily’s embarrassment. “Beach house, Sunfish, three vacations a year, Mercedes convertible for weekends, a Porsche for weekdays, pearls, every length, diamond earrings, diamond bracelet, lots and lots of diamonds. Mink coat, a sable coat, a fox coat. Three Chanel handbags, a live-in housekeeper to take care of us and wait on us, my very own checking account that I do not have to account for, money for my college tuition, a baby that looks just like you, and you, for all the rest of my days.”
“That’s an impressive list, Emily. Now here, sign it.”
“This is fun,” Emily said, scrawling her name. “Is there anything on the list you object to?” she asked, fear in her eyes.
“Not a thing. Those three vacations a year might be a problem if you want me to go with you. Both of us can’t be away, but if you’re speaking for yourself, then I can definitely guarantee them.”
“Vacations are no fun alone,” Emily said, sticking her tongue out at him.
“I’m serious, Emily. Will you settle for going alone if I can’t go?”
“You’re
