Paul fixed his necktie for the third time. Age had worn his dexterity down, but not his mind. He knows how Marie likes his necktie done. And tonight was very special, so things had to be perfect. Anniversaries come once a year, but a woman like Marie? Only once in a lifetime, and then only if one’s lucky. And Paul always knew he was a very lucky man.
Peering at his reflection in the mirror, he nodded in satisfaction. Marie will approve. He grabbed his jacket, and headed out the door. He still had a couple of stops to make before meeting her at their favorite spot. First flowers… she loves daisies. Walking briskly to Main Street, he stopped at the flowershop, greeting Donna as he picked up a beautiful bouquet of fresh daisies.
“Well, Paul! Don’t you look handsome! Marie will surely be impressed,” she said, smiling as she placed a single daisy in Paul’s lapel. Paul smiled and paid for the bouquet, her best wishes ringing in his ears as he left. He crossed the street and walked up a ways, entering the restaurant where he and Marie had had their first date so many years ago. The young lady asked him how many in his party, but before Paul could answer, Mikey Jr. came to greet him. His dad had been the original owner, and passed the restaurant down to Mikey when he retired. Mikey shook his hand warmly, gesturing to the young lady to fetch the basket in the kitchen.
“I fixed a wonderful basket for you, Mr. Paul,” he told him, gesturing to it as the young lady brought it over. “All of your favorites, and I took the liberty of opening the wine for you. Hope you have a wonderful anniversary, my friend.” Paul glanced down to see glasses and a bottle, as well as containers of food. He thanked Mikey, carefully carrying the basket as he made his way outside.
The sun had set, but the streets were well-lit. Paul proceeded down the street, past the park, and down to the church. He paused to look at the entrance where he had gone in a young single boy, and come out a married man. Such a beautiful day, etched in his memory forever. He grinned, knowing Marie was waiting, and turned to walk around the church.
The gates were open. Oliver the groundskeeper always left them open for Paul on this day, letting Paul close them as he left. He whistled as he passed the statue of the Archangel Michael, then laughed at his folly. Whistling past a graveyard is fine, but whistling in one? That’s just funny. He knew the path by heart, turning left, then right, and finally coming to Marie’s resting place. Oliver had thoughtfully raked all the leaves away, placing a picnic cloth for him right next to her headstone, as well as a new vase for the flowers Paul would bring. Carefully, sweetly, he cleared the fallen leaves from her name, then placed the flowers in the vase. He sat down next to her, feeling giddy and light, even though he had not drunk the wine. He felt a certain happiness flowing, and as he recounted his day, pouring wine into two glasses, he felt at peace. He raised his glass to Marie, gone these twenty years, but still so close to him that he could feel her. He closed his eyes, recalling her face, her touch. He laid down next to her, looking up at the stars, whispering his love for her, his heart near to bursting with happiness, knowing he would never leave his Marie.
And that’s how Oliver found him, smiling peacefully under a blanket of leaves, placed over him just so, next to his Marie.