i am in the bath
working my muscles back home
after Pilates, arm work,
and three days of absence.
the week is melting away
into a calm i have searched for
for months, and my jacuzzi bubbles
gather around me in a rhythmic hum.
he steps in, sly smile on his face,
his palms behind his back,
and sits on the toilet.
I have a surprise for you.
his hands move down
along the bottom edge of the bath,
obscured from my growing curiosity,
creeping up slowly into view.
and there it is.
the Ghirardelli peppermint bark
he stole away ten days ago
when he kept his heart elsewhere
now, he gives me a series of giant bars
to replace the small squares
i purchased half-off at Wal-mart
the day after Christmas
it isn’t the smooth dark chocolate
which writing these words
brings water to my mouth,
nor the spicy peppermint aftertaste.
it isn’t the girls’ lunches
who will never miss the delectability
that can easily be replaced
with leftover candy canes to please them.
it is the argument, forgotten to me,
the detail he remembered,
the online order and shipment
that brought me chocolate and my husband back.
