familiar brown uniform, carrying a white cardboard cube around nine inches square. Connor signed for the UPS package and brought it to the library table. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said, smiling as he handed her the cube.
“What’s in it?” asked Betsy. The brown lettering on the side of the box said Norman Love Confections. It looked big enough to hold an awful lot of chocolate, but when Betsy took it, it wasn’t heavy.
“Open it,” suggested Connor.
Inside the top was a flat, silver foil surface—the box was lined with insulation. Under the insulation, on the bottom, was a plastic bag of something frozen solid. Beside it was a light green box with a mitered top, about eight inches long and maybe three inches wide, too small to be a container of ice cream. It was tied shut with a white ribbon printed with hearts.
She looked at Connor, who was smiling proudly. “Go on,” he said, gesturing at it.
She took the box out—cold in her hand—and opened it. On top was a strip of cardboard showing beautiful heart shapes in softly blended colors: purple, pink, gold, mottled, and swirled. Under the tissue were ten candy hearts, each just over an inch across and not quite half an inch thick. A rich smell of cocoa wafted to her nostrils.
“Try one,” said Connor, still smiling.
Betsy picked the dark brown heart with a swoop of white on it. She bit into it and her senses were assaulted with an incredibly smooth-textured rush of chocolate, not milk, not dark, so intense she had to sit down.
“Shut the front door!” she said, and Connor, recognizing the expression of surprise and pleasure from a cookie commercial, began to laugh.
He sat down beside her to watch her finish the heart in two slow bites. With the last bite in her mouth, she slowly leaned sideways until her shoulder was against his, and he put his arm around her. She was unable to say anything for a minute after the last swallow, but just sat there, leaning against him and enjoying the lingering taste of the chocolate, replaying those delectable moments in her mind.
“That is the best chocolate I have ever eaten,” she said at last. “And this day with you is the best Valentine’s Day I have ever spent. Ever. Thank you.”
“You are welcome, machree,” he replied solemnly.
“Where did you find this place?” she asked.
“Peg wrote to me about it.” Peg was Connor’s daughter, who was currently on an archeological dig outside of Mexico City sponsored by the University of Florida. “Her current boyfriend grew up in Fort Myers, where this confections place is located. She raved about the chocolates he sent her, so I decided to let you try some, too.”
Connor was as severely chocoholic as Betsy. He was already casting an envious eye at the little green box in front of her, so she pushed it toward him. “Try one,” she invited him.
“Thought you’d never ask,” he said, and chose one covered in subtly blended colors of red, orange, and yellow, with silvery gray on the sides. The card said it was called Sunset Kiss.
He bit into it, inhaled lightly to capture all the flavor, and closed his eyes. “Very, very nice,” he said, nodding over and over as he savored it. “This one’s mango.”
Betsy loved mango, alone or in any kind of mixture. Knowing this, he leaned toward her. “Have a taste,” he said, and kissed her.
“Yum,” she murmured, and kissed him back, warmly.
Then she determinedly closed the box over the remaining chocolates. “These are too good to eat all in one sitting,” she said. “Let’s put the rest upstairs in the refrigerator. Each of us can get one piece a day until they’re gone.” She was half hoping he’d object, but he only sighed and went upstairs.
Oddly enough, it was in that moment that she realized how much she loved him.
• • •
B ETSY hustled over to Sol’s for a couple of sandwiches—beef with horseradish spread—and potato chips. She made the same deal with Connor she
“What’s in it?” asked Betsy. The brown lettering on the side of the box said Norman Love Confections. It looked big enough to hold an awful lot of chocolate, but when Betsy took it, it wasn’t heavy.
“Open it,” suggested Connor.
Inside the top was a flat, silver foil surface—the box was lined with insulation. Under the insulation, on the bottom, was a plastic bag of something frozen solid. Beside it was a light green box with a mitered top, about eight inches long and maybe three inches wide, too small to be a container of ice cream. It was tied shut with a white ribbon printed with hearts.
She looked at Connor, who was smiling proudly. “Go on,” he said, gesturing at it.
She took the box out—cold in her hand—and opened it. On top was a strip of cardboard showing beautiful heart shapes in softly blended colors: purple, pink, gold, mottled, and swirled. Under the tissue were ten candy hearts, each just over an inch across and not quite half an inch thick. A rich smell of cocoa wafted to her nostrils.
“Try one,” said Connor, still smiling.
Betsy picked the dark brown heart with a swoop of white on it. She bit into it and her senses were assaulted with an incredibly smooth-textured rush of chocolate, not milk, not dark, so intense she had to sit down.
“Shut the front door!” she said, and Connor, recognizing the expression of surprise and pleasure from a cookie commercial, began to laugh.
He sat down beside her to watch her finish the heart in two slow bites. With the last bite in her mouth, she slowly leaned sideways until her shoulder was against his, and he put his arm around her. She was unable to say anything for a minute after the last swallow, but just sat there, leaning against him and enjoying the lingering taste of the chocolate, replaying those delectable moments in her mind.
“That is the best chocolate I have ever eaten,” she said at last. “And this day with you is the best Valentine’s Day I have ever spent. Ever. Thank you.”
“You are welcome, machree,” he replied solemnly.
“Where did you find this place?” she asked.
“Peg wrote to me about it.” Peg was Connor’s daughter, who was currently on an archeological dig outside of Mexico City sponsored by the University of Florida. “Her current boyfriend grew up in Fort Myers, where this confections place is located. She raved about the chocolates he sent her, so I decided to let you try some, too.”
Connor was as severely chocoholic as Betsy. He was already casting an envious eye at the little green box in front of her, so she pushed it toward him. “Try one,” she invited him.
“Thought you’d never ask,” he said, and chose one covered in subtly blended colors of red, orange, and yellow, with silvery gray on the sides. The card said it was called Sunset Kiss.
He bit into it, inhaled lightly to capture all the flavor, and closed his eyes. “Very, very nice,” he said, nodding over and over as he savored it. “This one’s mango.”
Betsy loved mango, alone or in any kind of mixture. Knowing this, he leaned toward her. “Have a taste,” he said, and kissed her.
“Yum,” she murmured, and kissed him back, warmly.
Then she determinedly closed the box over the remaining chocolates. “These are too good to eat all in one sitting,” she said. “Let’s put the rest upstairs in the refrigerator. Each of us can get one piece a day until they’re gone.” She was half hoping he’d object, but he only sighed and went upstairs.
Oddly enough, it was in that moment that she realized how much she loved him.
• • •
B ETSY hustled over to Sol’s for a couple of sandwiches—beef with horseradish spread—and potato chips. She made the same deal with Connor she
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