Love in the Leap Year
Booth had gone to bed earller than usual last night in anticipation of today. He had some special treats planned for his family to mark the quadrennial event. Booth took great delight in celebrating the little moments of life to bring his loved ones extra joy. The same spirit that turned him into an overgrown kid at Christmastime prompted his creativity throughout the year.
Shamrocks or four leaf clovers left on their pillows for St. Patrick's Day, a trail of Hershey's kisses left for them to follow down the hall and stairway to a breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes on St. Valentine's Day, Smiley face stickers on April Fool's Day; you get the idea. Booth loved marking any holiday, no matter how insignificant, with little gifts for his wife and kids.
When he was first living with Pops and Gram, he'd pick wildflowers for her, and find unique rocks for him—gifts that had to cost nothing since he had no money, yet expressed his love and gratitude for them sharing their home. Even as a little kid, he'd done the same for his mom and dad before things got bad. Seeley Booth was a giving spirit.
February 29th was an odd day, introduced by Julius Caesar and tweaked by Pope Gregory XIII to eliminate the inaccuracies of the older Roman calendar. Booth wasn't concerned with the why of the day, only loved that it existed, giving him a silly illogical reason to demonstrate his intense affection for those important to him.
He slid gingerly out of bed, despite the pain in his feet, donned his robe and slippers and tiptoed out of the master bedroom and down to the kitchen, carrying his clothes. After gulping a cup of black coffee and dressing quickly, he grabbed his truck keys and headed out the door.
His first errand was picking up a large bouquet of daffodils and daisies for Brennan, and a smaller one for Christine at his favorite florist shop. Its older proprietress, Florrie Hessman, had grown very fond of Booth, and opened her shop early this morning to accommodate his request.
His romantic heart reminded her of Alfred, her late husband, and he always tipped her well for her trouble. Over the years of his partnership with Brennan, Booth had bought numerous bouquets from Florrie, and she'd watched in silent hopefulness until their romance bloomed, acknowledged at last.
His second stop was the coffee emporium where a fresh shipment of Brennan's favorite Kopi luwak had just arrived last week. The shopkeeper had alerted Booth that his standing order was ready for pickup just the day before, and had it packaged in a colorful bamboo hemp shopping bag which Brennan would love and put to good use. While he was there, Booth grabbed a fresh cup of plain Folgers coffee for himself.
He made good time driving back home, and parked down the street to avoid waking his family. Re-entering the garage, Booth slid a new bicycle bell, a 'Frozen' handlebar basket and a shiny yellow Tonka Truck from their hiding place behind the snow tires. With all the stealth of his Ranger training, he carried the gifts back into the kitchen, and placed them on the kitchen table. T
hen, whistling merrily, he whipped up a batch of chocolate chip pancakes and bacon, knowing the aromas would draw his kids to the kitchen. For Brennan, he fixed maple pecan pancakes and a kiwi strawberry fruit plate. Then he set the table, poured a fresh cup of coffee, and opened the morning paper. And waited.
Five minutes later, he heard little feet pattering down the stairs, and a curly brown head popped up over the kitchen counter. Hank skidded to a stop before launching himself into his father's lap. "G'morning, Daddy! Oooh, a truck!"
Brennan and Christine came to the kitchen more sedately, but with just as bright a smiles. "Happy Leap Day, guys!" Booth announced, kissing his wife and squeezing his daughter's shoulder.
"Oh, you got me an Elsa basket and bell for my bike! Thanks, Dad!" Christine exclaimed in delight.
Spying her favorite flowers and coffee, Brennan smiled fondly and shook her head at her exuberant husband's wide grin. "The flowers and coffee are so thoughtful, and this shopping bag is a wonderful choice. My old one tore last week." Then she adopted what Booth called her 'teacher face, and spoke earnestly, as if she was delivering an anthropology lecture.
"Booth, you are surely aware that the concept of leap year was formalized by the papal bull Inter gravissimas promulgated in 1582 by Pope Gregory XIII, however it wasn't recognized by the Protestant world until two centuries later," she intoned seriously. However her twinkling eyes gave away her mirth, and she chuckled at his antics.
"Bones, I don't care how it started; it just gives me one more chance to tell you guys how much I love you!"