I am taking a little break from the diary (only a little one) and have a little piece of fluff that has been rolling around mt head ever since I saw 'The Vows We Have Made' and a twitter discussion reminded me of it. I think that Shane planned a different present before all of the stuff with Dunbarton happened. What was it? Here is my take on what it might be.
The thing about honeymoons, any holiday really, is that they exist almost out of time. You leave behind routines and responsibilities and enjoy, explore and relax. At some point, however, you must return home to real world. Oliver and Shane had a fabulous fortnight in Europe. Now, they were back in Denver, trying to meld their two lives into one. Currently, this involves moving Shane's belongings into Oliver's house, making it their home.
Shane was busy sorting kitchen ephemera. How many egg separators and garlic presses did one couple need? One and one, she thought. How about tea strainers? Shane counted five, and only one of them came from her collection. She slipped two of them into the donation box, pretty sure that a debate about them was in her future.
Oliver meanwhile, stood in the garage, looking at a stack of storage crates, trying to find a place for them. The carefully written label said these particular boxes were full of Christmas decorations. The smile on his face was a little rueful. For someone late to the celebration of Christmas, Shane had certainly gathered quite the collection. He picked up the first box, and found a space for it on the shelves that lined the walls. He had just reached for the last one (Six boxes of Christmas decorations? In two years she had collected six boxes?) when Shane called to him from the doorway.
'Afternoon tea?' she asked.
Oliver followed Shane into the house, thinking how simple things, like someone else (not just any someone, but his someone) making tea and sharing it with you was a blessing. He was delighted to see that not only was a teapot waiting on the dining table, but also the Victoria sponge with lemon curd and cream filling discovered at a local artisan bakery.
Tea poured and doctored to taste (more sugar than tea for Shane) and cake served, Shane jumped up from the table, gave Oliver a peck on the cheek, and told him to stay there. Oliver sipped his tea, wondering what the whirlwind that was his wife was up to now.
He looked up as Shane entered the room, carrying a large flat box, wrapped in pale blue wrapping, adorned with a navy ribbon. Oliver raised an eyebrow and looked curiously at Shane as she sat back at the table, the present in her lap.
'So,' she began hesitantly, 'Dunbarton was a bit of a late entrant as a wedding present. I had planned to give you something else.'
Oliver's gaze was intent. This was not something that he had considered. Now that he thought about it, that made sense. Even though he had left gift selection later than he should have, Shane probably did not. She would have been more organized than that. She had organized everything else meticulously, so of course she would have planned his gift well in advance. Shane was being almost coy about this though, she looked almost shy. What was in the box?
'I was going to wait... for your birthday, or Christmas, or something, but I decided that this couldn't wait, and I had to give it to you now.'
Oliver was worried. He didn't have anything for her. Two and a half weeks had brought about a change in Oliver. While single Oliver would have kept that concern to himself, married Oliver was willing to share.
'Shane, I don't have anything for you…' he began.
'Oliver,' Shane smirked and rolled her eyes. 'I think a surprise side trip to Stockholm with an even more surprising catch up with my sister means that you are definitely in credit.' Shane took a deep breath, and then passed the box to Oliver.
Oliver placed the box on the table, stood up, walked around the table to her side, taking her hand. He pulled her to him to express his 'thanks'. After a few minutes of 'thank yous', they stood, arms around each other and foreheads touching. She giggled.
'Aren't you going to open it before you say thank you?'
Shane went back to her seat and sat with her elbows on the table and a slightly worried look on her face. Maybe, she thought, this was a silly thing to give as a gift. Was it too personal? To sentimental?
Oliver carefully undid the ribbon and began to remove the wrapping. The care he was taking was certainly not calming Shane's nerves. Shane had placed a previously purloined letter opener on the table. She held it out to him. Murmuring something that sounded like, 'The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief,' Oliver carefully cut the tape that secured the box.
Nervously, Shane began to prattle. 'I guess I am a little out of practice…but I wanted to give you something that marked the beginning of our life together….' She chewed her bottom lip, his silence making her even more uneasy.
'If you hate it, forget that I gave it to you…. I mean, we did share wedding gifts, right? We can hide it in a cupboard somewhere …'
Oliver dragged his eyes away from the contents of the box. Looking at he, he spoke seriously. 'Shane, stop.'
She took a breath and blinked at him.
'You are amazing, you know that, right?' His fingers lightly traced three letters contained on the box's content.
Blushing, she gave a slight smile.
'You don't hate it?'
'You can't be serious. This is the most amazing thing I have ever seen. How did you … When did you find the time …'
Oliver looked at the beautifully framed line and wash watercolor painting. There, in delicate detail was an exquisitely rendered image of his house, no, their house, with the words 'Oliver and Shane' and the date of the wedding beneath the image. A beautiful house portrait created by his wife. His heart gave a spontaneous prayer of thanksgiving for Shane and all that she brought to his life. This caring, supportive, technologically brilliant and artistically gifted woman was his wife, and he would never stop giving thanks for that.
He new that he needed to tell her how moved he was by her remarkable gift. Once again, he walked around the table to her. He knelt beside her, taking her hand. 'Shane, you are a wonder. This … you can't know how much this means; how much you mean …'
He took her hand and kissed the back of it.
'When an O'Toole runs out of words, he says it with Shakespeare does he not?
Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love.'
Shane felt herself melting. No doubt her husband had a way with words. She looked questioningly at him as he rose and took a small step back from her.
He grinned. 'I just have one request,' he began. 'Please let me hang it. I don't think that there are any hidden rooms, but I am not willing to take a chance.'