Two Decades Without a Gift for Her: A Harmonious Coexistence
William Harper had never bought his wife a present, though theyd shared twenty years of marriage without a single quarrel. It wasnt that he was stingythe opportunity had just never arisen. With Evelyn, everything had moved quickly: they married just a month after meeting.
Their courtship, too, had been free of gifts. Hed visit her in the tiny village where she lived, whistling beneath her window. Shed rush out, and the two would settle on the bench by the gate, chatting quietly until midnight.
Their first kiss came on the day of their engagement. Then came the wedding, the rhythm of daily life with its chores and worries. William proved a shrewd businessman, expanding his pig farm. Evelyn worked just as hard, her vegetable patch the envy of the neighbours. Then came the childrennappies, lace dresses, childhood illnesses. Gifts? No time for that. Holidays were marked with a modest feast. Life flowed on, uneventful but peaceful, filled with hard work.
One day, William went to market with his neighbour to sell potatoes and bacon, just before Mothers Day. Hed cleared out his cellar, sorted the spuds, and decided to offload the extras. The bacon might as well go now, before slaughtering the next pig. The morning was crisp, with a hint of spring in the air. To his surprise, everything sold like hotcakes. The bacon vanished in a blink; the potatoes were snapped up like sweets. “Not bad,” William thought, pleased. “Evelyn will be chuffed.”
He stowed the sacks in his neighbours van and set off to run errands. Evelyn had given him a short list. Out of habit, he stopped at the local pub to toast his good fortune. He wasnt much of a drinker, but he firmly believed skipping a celebratory pint would jinx future sales. After downing his ale, he stepped back into the bustling street, studying the shopfronts and crowds. Thats when he nearly stumbled upon an unexpected scene.
Outside a boutique, a young couple stood admiring a dress on display. The girl, fresh as a daisy, gushed:
“Come on, Charlotte, we cant stand here all day!”
“Look, James, its gorgeous! Itd suit me perfectly.”
“Pff, its just a bit of fabric.”
“Dont be daft! Its the latest retro style! Get it for me for Mothers Day, yeah?”
“Charlotte, you know were skint. If I buy it, well be eating beans on toast till payday”
“Well manage, love! I want it so badly. Weve been married a year, and youve never bought me a thingnot even at Christmas!”
“Charlotte, youll be the death of me”
“I love you,” she murmured before kissing him softly and tugging him into the shop.
The lad caught Williams eye and shrugged with a knowing grin, as if to say, “Women, eh?” Moments later, they emerged, Charlotte laughing, clutching her precious parcel. William lingered, staring at the dress. It was prettysimple, floral, like the one Evelyn used to wear on their evenings together. A forgotten emotion stirred in him. Was it nostalgia for their youth? Or the echo of what theyd once been? A sudden thought struck him: “Ive never given Evelyn a thing. Too busy. And I always reckoned it unnecessary. But this lad would tighten his belt to make his wife happy. For love. And medo I love Evelyn? Before marriage, I thought so. Then it all faded into routine. A life of toil, no memories Blimey, what a grim old life.”
That stolen joy ached in his chest. He wanted to feel it too.
Steeling himself, he marched into the shop. A saleswoman approached, smiling.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Aye. Ill take that dress in the window.”
“Oh, excellent choice! Its all the ragepure silk, vintage style. Your daughter will adore it.”
“Not for my daughter. For my wife,” William grunted.
“Oh, how lucky she is!” the woman trilled, wrapping it up.
“How much?”
When she named the price, his stomach dropped. A small fortune, to him.
“Why so dear?” he grumbled.
“Its from a top designer,” she explained patiently.
He hesitated. Then Charlottes beaming face flashed in his mind. He made his decision.
“Ill take it.”
He counted out the notes and left, proud of his daring. His neighbour was already waiting. The ride home was cheerful. The neighbour bragged about his profits.
“And you? Do all right?”
“What?”
“Make a tidy sum?”
“Counting other mens pockets now?” William snapped.
“Steady on,” the neighbour muttered, taken aback by the sudden mood.
Back home, Evelyn hadnt returned from the farm yet. William fed the animals, mucked out the sties, tended to the pigs. Yet despite his good deed, a weight sat in his chest. Why this unease? He shrugged it off and went inside, pouring himself a whiskey. Then another. It helped, a little.
The door banged shut. Evelyn walked in, her usual stern expression in place.
“Youre back, then? Howd the market go?”
“Fine. Heres the money.”
She counted the notes.
“Somes missing. Bad sales?”
“No, its just well, the rest is in that bag.”
Evelyn pulled out the dress, wary.
“Whos this for? Emily? Looks too big for her. Wasting our hard-earned”
“Its for you,” he said, awkward. “For Mothers Day.”
Silence.
“For me?” she whispered, disbelieving. “Really?”
“Aye, for you!” he said, relieved she wasnt scolding him. “Who else?”
Evelyn burst into tears and fled to the bedroom. She reappeared ten minutes later, eyes red.
“It doesnt fit. Ive put on weight.”
“What?” he spluttered. “I remember you wearing one like it when we sat on that bench”
“Oh, you silly old sod,” she sighed, laughing shakily. “That was twenty years ago! Things change.”
He met her gaze.
“Seeing those flowers, I thought What if the real gift isnt the dress, but just uslike we were back then?”
