Three Gifts

            “If you were only allowed to give me three gifts during the course of the rest of our lives together, what would they be?”

            She looked up from the crossword, biting the end of her pen.  “Love, love, and love, what else is there?”

            Dan was staring out the window at the people on the street.  He shook his head absentmindedly as Daphne spoke, but turned to look at her as she went back to her puzzle. Leaning forward, Dan put his hand over the paper.

“Seriously, Daph, I’m talking about a gift – a real, physical gift to give someone.”

“Dan, I don’t understand what you’re saying; three gifts for the rest of my life?  How is that relevant to anything?”

He chuckled and picked up her hand, rubbing the engagement ring on her slender finger. Her expression softened and she rolled her blue-green eyes as a wry smile slid across her face.

“You’re in for a lifetime of this, you know?”

“Sometimes I still wonder why I agreed,” she said.

Dan’s hands went to his heart as he slumped over in his chair.  Daphne kicked him, but he didn’t move.  She stared for a moment. Dan’s eyelids flickered.  Finally, she gathered up her things and stood.

Daphne turned to the man sitting next to them and gestured, “Apparently, my fiancée is dead.  I’m pretty sure he’s got some cash in his wallet.”  The man grinned and nodded as she went to throw away her coffee cup.

The hood of his sweatshirt adhered itself to the back of his head as Dan burst out of the shop.  He spied Daphne at least two blocks away walking on the north side of the street to avoid the wind.  She was going out of her way to step on the crunchy leaves.  He began to jog after her.

Dan was slender, genetically predisposed to the sport he loved so much, but his staccato gait had been the cause of too much prejudice and mockery by his high school coaches.  Now, each chance to run was a race – against the sun, a car, a leaf, or his fleeing fiancée.  They always ended in slow motion, Dan’s arms raised in triumph.

“Won again?” Daphne teased as he approached.  “It’s really not a race if you don’t tell me.”  She jumped with both feet onto a leaf, twisting her feet to prolong the satisfaction.  He lunged in front of her, stealing the next leaf, and she leapt onto his back, kissing his bearded check.  He walked with her on his back.

He said, “When are you going to marry me”?

“Aren’t we already?” she replied. “I mean, look at me.  I’m already on your back.” 

He shifted her weight and began running down the sidewalk.  They narrowly missed an old couple walking together as Daphne shouted an apology, her speech punctuated by each of Dan’s steps.  They approached a busy intersection.

“I’m gonna kill us both if you don’t give me a date!”

She began beating his chest, “God damn it, Dan! Stop!” Leaping off his back, she shoved him to the ground. Dan slid on the pavement and his jeans tore.

Rolling over, Dan laughed, “Damn, Daph. I was just–“

“Fuck you!  You’re always ‘just…’ and I’m tired of it.” She turned, pushing her hair back, and began walking away.

He watched her walk. He grinned. Finally, he stood, checked his freshly-trendy jeans, and walked toward her.  Dashing behind trees and rolling from cover to cover, Dan stealthily crept up on Daphne.  She remained stalwart, eyes forward, daring the world to antagonize her further.