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Becca drove up to Wilson's school and kissed him to say good-bye. Before he turned to get out of the car, he just stared at her. He couldn't believe she had not said anything to him. She didn't mention it yesterday, and didn't even bring it up this morning. He got out, still looking at her, and stood beside the car.
"Are you going in or not?" she yelled out. She didn't understand why he was not moving.
"No," he said and got back into the car. The leather seat was still warm from where he had been sitting in it. "Do you have any idea what today is?"
She gave him a weird look. "No." She thought for a second. "Your birthday's in July."
He just laughed. "Yeah, it is."
"So what's today then?" He just stared back at her and laughed again. "Tell me or don't tell me and get out I have to go."
"It's Valentine's Day sweetie."
"It is? Wow." She paused. "How could I have missed that?"
"You're a busy woman." He leaned in and kissed her softly, savoring the moment. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
"Tonight- I've got stuff planned."
She laughed. "Do you?"
"I do. I still have to go to practice, but I'll be home."
"OK." She kissed him. "Bye."
X
Wilson walked in the house to find it was pitch black. His parents had gone away for Valentine's Day, probably so they could get away from Wilson and Becca, so Becca should have been the only one home. The only light was the dull flicker of the TV against the walls of the living room.
"Becca?"
There was no answer, so Wilson followed the light. He saw Becca conked out on the couch, the TV on mute in front of her playing the five o'clock news. Instead of waking her up, he decided to switch his plan around a little bit. Since he knew his mom wasn't going to be home to cook dinner and Becca couldn't go out to eat, he was going to cook for her. He put the flowers he'd gotten on his way home aside and got out his ingredients.
The only thing Wilson really knew how to cook was pasta. Becca's favorite type of pasta was tortellini, so he had bought a package of that a few days ago with a jar of tomato sauce. On the side, he made a can of dinner rolls. Desert he had a cake that he made a few days ago when Becca was napping that he needed to frost.
By 7:00, the table was set with all the food. Tortellini with sauce on the dinner plates, dinner rolls on the side, cranberry juice in glasses for a hint of red, and Wilson's just frosted cake in the center on a cake stand. He picked up the bouquet of roses he had sitting in water, dried off the ends, and went to wake up his wife.
Wilson crouched down in front of Becca and gently tapped her after turning off the TV. Her eyes opened and she jumped when she saw his face right in front of her. She closed them again and rubbed her face.
"What time is it?"
"A little after seven. Get up."
"But I'm tired," she complained.
"I know, but I cooked dinner for us."
"You what?"
"I cooked dinner. Time to eat."
She sat up and squinted her eyes as they adjusted to the light. "This I have to see. Carry me."
"I will," he smiled, "but first…" Wilson handed Becca the roses and she gasped.
"When? How?"
"I have my ways, believe me."
She kissed him passionately, but he pulled back reluctantly. The food was getting cold. Wilson scooped Becca up into his arms and walked her to the kitchen table, where he gently placed her down onto the wooden chair. When she saw the spread before her, her mouth dropped. She didn't know what to say.
"You made all of this yourself?"
He sat in his chair next to hers. "Yup. Not entirely from scratch, but I made it."
"I'm really impressed." The awe showed in her eyes. "I never knew you could cook…or bake."
"There are a lot of things you don't know about me."
"I guess so," Becca agreed.
"Now eat up."
Becca dug into her food, smiling to herself because he made one of her favorite meals. She looked over at Wilson and caught him staring at her; she blushed. She could just tell in his look how much he really loved her. He didn't know it, but Becca often questioned the verity of their love since they were so young. When she saw the way he looked at her, when she thought about the things he did for her, there was no doubt in her mind that he was being honest every time he told her that he loved her. Wilson was the real deal.
"Do you like it? I wasn't sure what brand of sauce to get, and-"
"It's perfect. Thank you. I really appreciate everything you do for me. Well, I try to at the very least." Wilson laughed. "Don't laugh at me."
"I'm not. It's just, your honesty. It's cute. No one is as blunt as you are."
"Thanks…I guess. Was that a compliment?"
"Sort of," he said with a chuckle.
Wilson stabbed another tortellini and put it in his mouth. He reached over and picked up Becca's hand and squeezed it. Most of the reason why he did this was not because it was their first Valentine's Day together – married or otherwise. Becca had been grumpy since she had been put on partial bed rest, and Wilson would have done anything to make her feel better about it. He hated knowing she was dissatisfied.
"Look," she said to him, "I'm sorry I didn't do anything for you. And that I totally forgot today was Valentine's Day."
"It's OK," he said after he finished chewing his mouthful of food. "Valentine's is the man's job anyway."
"Yeah, I guess it is." Becca took the last bit of her roll and soaked up some of the tomato sauce with it, finishing her meal. "So, what type of cake is that?" She pointed at it.
"Are you ready for cake?"
She smiled widely. "I've been eyeballing it since I sat down. I want a huge piece."
Wilson found her to be so funny. "OK." He stood and got a knife and two forks out from the drawer and two smaller plates from the cupboard. He reached over and pulled the cake plate closer to him so he could cut it without reaching over the table. Wilson lined his knife up so that he would cut from the exact center out, and broke into the cake. He pulled out the knife when he got all the way through and, placing the knife three and a half inches from where he had first put it, sliced the other side of the piece. He placed the knife underneath and slid the cake off of the plate and onto the dessert plate in his left hand. Becca gasped when she saw it.
"Is that food coloring?" The cake was a deep shade of red, which had been masked by the chocolate frosting.
"Nope, it comes like that. It's Red Velvet cake."
"How adorable!" she remarked as he placed the piece down in front of her. When he sat down after cutting himself his own piece, she leaned over and kissed him passionately. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it."
Becca took a bite of her piece. "It's really good. I'm impressed with you. Cooking and baking. What other hidden talents do you have?"
"Uh, I know how to sew a little."
"What?" she laughed. "Really? You're so domesticated. I can't do any of that stuff. You're lucky I know how to use the microwave."
"So you don't know how to cook," he said. "Big deal. I might be able to teach you."
"What about how to sew?" she asked with a grin.
"Oh, that's easy. Just don't ask me how to sew a button. I never mastered that." He smiled at her widely. "What's some stuff that you can do?"
"Uh… well, I can ice skate."
"I can't," he said as he licked frosting off of his fork. "You've already upped me."
"Can you roller blade?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, then I'm sure you can ice skate. It's the same thing, kind of. Roller blading and ice skating are like cousins."
"I see."
"We should go ice skating some time," Becca suggested. "It would be fun."
"I'm sure it would be, so long as I didn't kill myself."
She squeezed his hand. "I'd let you hold onto me; I wouldn't let you fall."
X
Becca and Wilson were making out on their bed, with Wilson lying on top of Becca. Her hands were on his chest; he had one on her hip and the other on her face. They had been on the bed for nearly a half an hour doing this before Becca pushed him off of him. Grudgingly, Wilson pulled away and laid down next to her on his side of the bed, his head propped up by his hand.
'What?"
"I want sex!" she whined and covered her face with her hands. "This is so awful! I don't think I can do it. I-"
"Becca." He tried to clam her down with his voice, but it didn't work very well. Instead, he placed his hand on the bulge in her stomach and she quieted down. "We can't. The doctor said-"
"I don't care. The doctor's not here right now."
"Yes, but I don't want anything to happen to you or the baby. I'm sure your blood pressure is elevated enough just from kissing."
"Exactly my point," she said with a sigh. "I'm all riled up and there's nothing to finish with. I don't know how people do the whole abstinence thing for real. I think I'd stab myself."
"What a pleasant thought."
"Enough with the jokes," she said.
"What jokes? You were the one who said-" She glared at him. "OK, OK. I'm sorry. But, I don't know. There has to be more to us than sex."
"Not 'sex'. Amazing sex. Hot sex. Good sex." She feigned crying. "Wilson."
"I know, I know," he rubbed her arm.
"No, you don't know. If you knew you'd be as upset as I am. I'm losing it and you're just fine."
"I really think it's just from you not being able to move around. If you could come running with me, you wouldn't feel so bad."
"If I could go running with you we could be having sex so that wouldn't even be an issue!"
"Oh, yeah. Sorry." He sighed. "But, but there has to be other things we can do."
"Like what? Nothing that isn't going to raise my heart rate sky high."
"We could just lie here together."
Becca's jaw dropped. "You want to cuddle! You're the guy! You're supposed to be the one begging for sex! What is wrong with you?"
"We can't, it's fine."
She looked into his eyes. "I don't get it. Why?"
"It's easy for me to forsake that in lieu of you having a seizure or something weird happen. Something bad. You're worth way more than a night of passionate, great sex. And it was great. I agree with you. We're amazing together."
Becca was quiet for a few moments. Eventually, she looked over at him and pushed him flat onto the bed. She rolled so she was half on top of him and positioned her head against his chest. "…I guess this is better than nothing." Wilson looked down at her face to see she was pouting. He had to bite his lip to contain his laughter.
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A/N: Ah, the Valentine's chapter. I love this one. The red velvet cake thing was actually an idea I had myself, completely unrelated to the story, and I built the whole idea of Wilson cooking the meal around that. Besides, I didn't have many options. It wasn't like I could have Wilson take Becca somewhere, now could I?
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Wasn't Wilson's cake almost as scrumptious as he is? Review.
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