Fiction Short Story

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Fiction Short Story

by Louisa Howerow

Pre-Valentine's

Jake and Catherine spent most of January and February shoveling the driveway of their shared duplex.

"Valentine's Day. Two more days," said Catherine one morning. She was a large woman who could easily clean the driveway herself. The physical exertion, the steady bending and pushing, gave her pleasure. But, being generous by nature, she had not protested when her upstairs tenant came to help, understanding that he needed to be seen as useful.

"Never knew you to keep track," said Jake. He pulled down the flaps on his wool cap to cover his ears.

"Flowers. Chocolates." Catherine hesitated. "Ladies like that sort of thing."

"Which lady might that be?"

"Well, you're mooning over somebody. I've seen that look before."

"Mooning? Crazed. Dazed. I had a heart valve replaced, not a brain transplant. A near death experience. It changes one."

"You saw a white light—an operating room light." Catherine savagely scraped away at the snow, exposing the asphalt.

"I began to assess my life. Prioritize." He paused to blow his nose and pull his jacket zipper up to his chin. "A useful exercise."

"You know your trouble?"

"Shall I sweep the steps?"

"You need to act, not diddle daddle. Assert yourself. Take advantage of the season."

"Ah, yes. Take the bull by the horns. Strike while the iron is hot. Make hay while the sun shines. Stride up— "

Catherine laughed in spite of herself. "Do something useful. Shut the garden gate behind you."

"I'm not sure what she likes," said Jake.

"Have you asked her?"

"Come right out and say—what do you like, chocolates or flowers? Catherine, what would you do if you got flowers?"

"I'd think the sender was batty."

"Well, then." Little spurts of snow flew from Jake's broom and onto the evergreen shrubs he had helped Catherine plant last spring. "How long have we known each other?"

She took a deep breath and her body seemed to grow taller. "I bought the house in '94. You moved in '96. And you can do the math, Mr. Accountant."

He resumed his sweeping, she the shoveling. Neither spoke. They seemed to be in a hurry to finish, as if pressured by time.

It was Catherine who brought them out of their silence. "Let's call it a day."

Jake stretched out his hand and took the shovel from Catherine. He gave it a good tap with the broom. "Don't want snow puddles in the shed."

"I'm going to put a pot of tea on." Catherine stood back, admired her handiwork. "Would you like to join me in a cup of tea, Mr. McCarney?"

"I have a box of biscuits upstairs," said Jake. "Chocolate-coated. Shall I bring them?"

"Real butter in the biscuits? Real chocolate? And your heart?"

"For a special occasion. Real butter. Real chocolate."

"Pre-Valentine's." Catherine tapped Jake on the shoulder. "I'll see you in five, Mr. McCarney."

Copyright © 2004 Louisa Howerow

About the Author
Louisa's short stories have appeared in print and on-line journals, such as: E2K, Tryst, The Danforth Review, Drexel Online Journal, Room of One's Own and The Antigonish Review.