I opened the bag and pulled out a small box of chocolates. “Happy anniversary.”
“Oh. Thanks.” She flashed me a huge smile that would have looked totally real … if I didn’t know her better.
“Simon said that’s what I should get you. That or flowers. So you like it?”
“Sure.”
“Liar.”
Her face went bright red now as she stammered, “N-no, really. It’s great. It’s—”
“Completely and totally impersonal. Like something you’d buy in bulk for all your teachers.”
“No, I like this kind. You know I do and—”
She stopped as I held out the bag.
“Your real gift,” I said.
She looked in and let out a choking laugh. Then, still grinning, she reached in and pulled out a penlight, a Swiss army knife and a purse-sized can of mace.
She sputtered another laugh. “This is …”
“Practical?” I said.
“In my life, it is definitely practical. But I was going to say thoughtful.” She smiled up at me. “The most thoughtful gift I’ve ever gotten.”
“And the most completely unromantic? Simon almost had a heart attack when I showed him. He made me get the chocolates, as a backup.”
“I’m sure he did. Which I suppose explains why I ended up with you instead.” She rose on tiptoes again and put her arms around my neck. “Because buying me gifts to keep me safe? That’s my idea of romantic.”