This year St. Valentine's Day had fallen on a Friday, which Violet liked because classes ended early for the annual party held between the grades, so it felt like an extra two hours added to the weekend. Violet and her best friend, Patty, had made cupcakes with pink frosting, which everyone praised, and the valentine box had been filled to the brim, leaving them with a better haul than last year.
Through it all, Violet had enjoyed herself, and she probably would have breezed right into the weekend without a care, if someone had not said as they left school, "And Charlie Brown is at home with an earache! No wonder the party was so cheerful."
Violet stopped in her tracks, nearly dropping her armful of cards, and turned to Patty.
"Did you notice if anyone put a gift in the valentine box for Charlie Brown?" she asked. "Maybe we can deliver it to him on the way home."
"Doubt it," Patty replied. "I saw Schroeder toss the box into the closet when we were doing those party games. He would have taken any undelivered valentines out, but nobody ever brings anything for Charlie Brown."
Violet looked at her cards. "I meant to, after what happened last year, but I completely forgot."
"Why bother?" Patty sniffed. "It's only Charlie Brown."
"But you'd think his mom would at least get him something, right?" Violet countered. "I wonder why she doesn't."
"She gave birth to him. Isn't that enough?"
Out of all the girls on their block, Patty had known Charlie Brown the longest and had played with him when they had been toddlers, but even she had a limit for how much she could tolerate the wishy-washy boy.
"Yeah, but even Charlie Brown should get one nice thing in life," Violet pointed out.
"What do you care about that?" Patty asked. "You already gave him a used valentine. You've done your good deed toward him for this decade."
"Yes, I did," Violet murmured, but she could not hide her wince.
Last year, she had taken pity on Charlie Brown when she had seen that nobody had brought a valentine for him at their school party; even his best friends, Linus and Schroeder, had seemed to have forgotten him, though most boys in their neighborhood did not exchange valentines with each other. Violet had selected one from her own collection of cards and erased her name, thinking Charlie Brown would enjoy it — and he had, accepting it like Oliver Twist receiving his first plate of good food. Even so, it had not gone smoothly for Violet. Schroeder had torn into her, calling her thoughtless and basically a horrible human being for not caring about Charlie Brown's feelings.
The worst part had been that Violet found herself agreeing with the musician, even after Charlie Brown had pushed Schroeder aside to take the second-hand card. That puppy-dog look of delight on his round face reminded her of the days when she still played with him regularly. They used to go on walks or hang out at her house and listen to records, and he faithfully bought a mud pie from her every week. Whenever Violet had a bag of assorted candy and wanted to get rid of the coconut ones, Charlie Brown would reluctantly accept them, even though he hated coconut — all because he wanted to please Violet, even after she constantly snubbed him for Shermy, the boy she liked the most.
As a result of Schroeder's scolding, Violet had made the conscious decision to try better by getting Charlie Brown his own valentine, even if it was something simple and cheap. Yet once again, she had forgotten, and a second-hand gift was out of the question this time.
"If only I had remembered," she sighed when she reached home.
Saturday morning, Violet woke up restless. She could barely eat more than a slice of toast from the big breakfast which the housekeeper placed in front of her, and when she was excused from the table, she strode out the front door without stopping to see what cartoons were playing on the television. She walked down one block, then the next, until she reached the beginning of the shopping district. The store windows which had been smothered in hearts and pink-and-white garlands of streamers now stood bare, mundane. As Violet passed by the general store, a sign had been placed on the window display: SALE: All Valentine Merchandise 50% Off!
Violet shielded her eyes to peer inside, where she could make out a cluster of red and pink items streaked with white near the center of the store.
"A whole bunch of valentines," she murmured to herself as she leaned back, folding her arms. "Charlie Brown would flip just to get one…"
If Patty found out, she would probably drag her to a session at Lucy Van Pelt's psychiatry booth, and then everyone would think she had lost her marbles or, worse, think Violet finally returned Charlie Brown's old, unrequited crush. On the other hand, Charlie Brown ought to receive one genuine valentine: Violet had already given his first ever, so why not take it a step further?
She bit her lip. Any other day she would just keep walking and forget about Charlie Brown, but the memory of last year's party made her stomach knot in spite of herself.
They used to get along; she would sometimes go out of her way to cheer him up, when she was not mad at him. He could be so sweet too, like when he had bought her that music box out of the blue, or when he helped hold the big jump rope so she and Patty could take turns. In all those little moments when she decided she did sort of like him, why hadn't she ever bought him a valentine?
"It could be anonymous," she considered. "It's not like he would get Snoopy to dust for fingerprints."
As she stood deliberating, someone called to her, but she did not fully notice until the newcomer strolled right up to her.
"Heya, Vi! Didn't you hear me?" Shermy's cheerful face appeared beside hers in the reflection on the shop's window.
"Hi," she answered without looking at him.
Shermy's reflection squinted at the sale sign and gave her a smirk. "Getting ideas for next year's wish list, huh? Well, just remember my dad only gives me a dollar a week!"
He laughed good-naturedly and held out his hand, like he usually did when he wanted her to take it, but Violet did not immediately register his unspoken request. Indecision kept her eyes fixated on the store window.
"Vi?" Shermy sounded concerned. "You feeling okay? Anything I can do?"
Violet barely glanced at him.
"I'm just wondering what kind of valentine Charlie Brown would like," she admitted, "since it's on sale anyway."
Shermy staggered back as though she had knocked him on the chin.
"Charlie Brown!" he squeaked, clutching his neck.
"You're a boy, Shermy," Violet returned vaguely, only half-listening to him. "Do you think he'd like a sports-themed valentine? Or maybe something with a dog?"
"But you hate him!" Shermy protested.
"I wouldn't say that," Violet said quietly. "We used to get along pretty well, remember? He could be a real sweetheart sometimes."
"Sweetheart?!"
She rested her cheek against her hand, exhaling. "Let's face it. He'd probably accept a can of dog food if somebody taped a heart onto the wrapper. Last year, he was desperate for the used valentine I gave him."
"You did what?!"
"He smiled so nicely when he got it, too. I really should have given him something yesterday. He looks kind of nice when he smiles—"
"Violet!"
"—in an ugly-puppy kind of way," she continued. "I remember how much he smiled when I asked him to carve our initials into that tree." She chuckled. "Right before he cut the tree clean through!"
"When did you ask him to carve your initials?" Shermy demanded, balling his hands. "I thought I was the only one!"
"And I remember when he asked me to sponsor him in order to join that baseball team with you." She covered her smiling mouth. "He actually wore a T-shirt with 'Violet's Mud Pies' on the back. I was so proud."
"Proud!"
"Then I guess I can break a dollar to get Charlie Brown a few things on clearance," she mused. "My dad's rich enough."
Nodding to herself, she sauntered to the store door, pleased with her plan. Feet pounded on the pavement behind her, and the next moment Shermy zoomed ahead. He braked right in front of the entrance, spreading his arms and legs as a barricade. His pale face now resembled a valentine — a scowling, aggravated valentine.
"You can't do this, Violet!" he yelled. "I won't let you."
Violet blinked at him, and at once a slow burn coursed through her. Shermy must have realized his mistake because he drew back from her withering gaze. Violet coldly grabbed his wrist, yanked it away from the door, and stepped over his leg. She marched into the store, her nose turned up.
"Don't tell me what to do, Shermy," she sniffed as she made her way to the valentine display.
He followed her. "Violet, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to sound like a jerk, but—c'mon—Charlie Brown? Really? You can do better!" He formed a nervous smile. "Didn't you like what I got you yesterday? Forget about Charlie Brown."
"What I do with my allowance is my business, Shermy," she retorted, making a point to look at the discounted heart-shaped chocolate boxes instead of him. "Don't forget that."
He watched her unhappily as she inspected the cards, candy and tiny teddy bears holding heart cushions. She selected a card and a box of chocolates, paid for them, and strode out onto the sidewalk with her head held high.
"Violet…" Shermy called to her from the store door, but she did not look back.
"A watched mailbox gets no valentines," Charlie Brown had told himself yesterday, but he had stayed parked beside the living-room window, his ear canal flooded with ointment. Plenty of cards arrived for Snoopy; one or two for Sally; one addressed to Mom and Dad from the electric company.
Nothing for Charlie Brown. Not even something for "Occupant."
When school let out, he waited to see if Linus might bring him any cards from the annual party, but his best friend had only well wishes and Charlie Brown's homework assignment.
His final hope was a belated valentine the next morning. Just as he got dressed to go check, however, Dad brought in the mail and tossed it on the kitchen table. Charlie Brown pounced on it like a cat, but he found only bills.
He spent the whole morning moping, but after lunch Mom saw his health had improved and shooed him outside because her bridge club would be over soon. Charlie Brown decided he might as well see where his feet would take him — maybe a pit where he could hide until next year — but as he meandered down the front walk, his eyes trailed to the mailbox again.
"How long does it take a lost valentine to find its way to my mailbox?" he wondered. "…Unless it fell into a black hole along the way."
He exhaled, shaking his head. Why did he always do this to himself? No valentine was coming — not from friends, not from family, not from casual acquaintances, not from the little red-haired girl. The sooner he accepted that truth, the less disappointment he would experience each year.
He stepped onto the sidewalk and trudged down the road a few feet, but another thought struck him.
What if the little red-haired girl had wanted to hand-deliver it yesterday, but she was just as shy as he was? What if she saw him camped out by the window and lost her nerve? What if she had only been able to deliver her valentine when she was absolutely sure no one would see her, like after Dad took in the mail?
He spun and hurried back to the mailbox, but his hand paused on the tiny handle.
"Unless… any belated valentine I find is meant for Snoopy," he murmured. "Imagine getting your hopes up, just to find a card for your dog. Again."
But his fingers itched to pull the door down, and he gave into the impulse, shoving his face to scan the narrow space.
…And then he saw the heart-shaped box. He gasped, and before he could control himself, his hands clawed it out, along with a red envelope. On the front of the latter, with the "i" dotted with a heart, someone had written Charlie Brown.
He had to check three times before he was convinced it was his name. Not Sally Brown or Mrs. Brown or Mr. Brown or Snoopy Brown — Charlie!
He almost collapsed from shock. He had to stagger back to the front stoop and sink down, reeling from both nerves and delight. At first he could only stare at the box and the envelope, marveling at the deep shades of red on both. Then it occurred to him that he ought to open the envelope to see what was inside, and he forced himself to lift the flap slowly, not trusting his shaking fingers.
A greeting card waited for him. The front had a smiling cartoon baseball with a cap and bat, and a reflective text read: VALENTINE, YOU'RE A HOMER! Inside, the greeting-card company had written in black letters, You're out of the park! Happy Valentine's Day!
Beneath that, someone had written a message in purple ink.
I might not like you like a boyfriend,
but everyone deserves to get a real
valentine at least once in their life.
Sorry it's a day late, but at least the
chocolate was on clearance.
Hope this makes you smile a little.
Anonymous
He blinked several times, taking it all in.
"I have a very frugal well-wisher," he said blankly.
Slowly, his dazed mind pieced everything together. He had received a platonic valentine, the kind which friends gave each other — not his friends, since Linus and Schroeder only gave valentines to girls they admired or got along with, but somebody wanted him to smile! Somebody was sorry it was a day late! Somebody had given him chocolate, even though it was on clearance!
Somebody thought he mattered!
Was it the little red-haired girl? The sender said they did not like him as a boyfriend, so maybe that was her way of kindly turning him down — or maybe it was from another girl, who just liked him as a friend and wanted him to smile!
"Either way, I'll take it!" he beamed.
His plan to find a pit to wallow in had completely vanished. He could only gaze at his two prizes; he had not even dared to remove the ribbon from the candy box; although he caught a whiff of chocolate when he held it up to examine, it felt too precious to eat. After another moment of wonder, he hugged the box to his chest, closing his eyes, while his free hand clutched the card and envelope.
"I wonder if Snoopy knows how to dust for fingerprints," he murmured. How he wanted to tell his anonymous friend thank you!
"So!" a scathing voice broke through his euphoria.
He opened one eye to see his neighbor, Shermy. Although usually an understated guy who rarely raised his voice, right then Shermy's face was completely red, and his hands shook.
Charlie Brown at once stood, laying his gifts to the side.
"Hey, are you sick?" he asked, holding out both hands as though approaching a wounded animal. "Do you need a cup of water? My mom can call a doctor—"
"For you, maybe!" Shermy retorted. His fingers clenched into fists. "I thought I could trust you, Charlie Brown! I thought you had moved on from her, but you're just a sneak!"
"What?" Charlie Brown stared at him, wondering if the poor kid was delirious.
"You're chasing the wrong girl, kid!" Shermy snarled. "She gave me a nice valentine yesterday! She only got you a valentine because it was the day-after sale!"
The little red-haired girl gave Shermy a valentine? a wild thought wondered.
Despite the slim odds, his mind had not completely divorced itself from the hope that the object of his infatuation might have sent him a valentine, even platonically, and the thought that Shermy of all people had received a heartfelt gift from the little red-haired girl made Charlie Brown's insides freeze. Wasn't it bad enough that Shermy had held Violet's attention back when Charlie Brown had liked her? Now he had gone after the little red-haired girl and won her heart too?
A quiet voice spoke before Charlie Brown realized it was his own: "She gave me a valentine of her own free will, so it's between me and her, isn't it?"
"If you have any sense, you better tear that valentine up and throw away the chocolate," Shermy ordered, raising both fists, "or I'll sock you on the nose!"
For a moment, Charlie Brown was tempted — genuinely tempted — to lift his fists in kind. He had brawled with Shermy before, and he would have gladly gotten a black eye before losing the first real valentine he had ever received: not a second-hand one from Violet Gray, but an actual one meant just for him.
But two thoughts slowed his anger: first, he had not ever won a fight against Shermy, and second, his gifts might be damaged during a wild rumble. Charlie Brown therefore used the only sensible weapon in his arsenal: he turned, picked up his things, and silently opened his front door, leaving Shermy outside.
"Coward!" Shermy shouted before Charlie Brown disappeared from sight. Even after the door closed on him, his muffled voice continued to yell, "Coward! Yellow-bellied snake! Sneak! Bird dog! Cheat! Girl-stealing jerk! Coward! Coward! Coward!"
As Charlie Brown carried his gifts to his room, his mother called to him from the kitchen, where she diagonally sliced cucumber tea sandwiches.
"Charlie, dear, if you and Shermy are going to play Cops and Robbers in the yard, please make sure you keep it down. All that yelling makes it hard to concentrate during a card game."
"I don't think he'll be out there much longer, Mom," he answered without slowing his step.
Inside his room, he made sure to place the card back inside the envelope before he stored it and the chocolate inside the old shoebox where he kept the treasures which he did not want to risk damaging. As he returned the box beneath his bed and gave it a final fond pat, Shermy's voice continued to bellow insults from outside.
"Coward! Sneak! Slimeball! Coward!"
"I suppose everyone will think I'm a coward now," Charlie Brown mused dryly, "but what else is new?"
Still, Shermy had some nerve calling him a sneak! Hadn't Charlie Brown seen him buying Violet a hot-fudge sundae just the other day? Didn't Violet give Shermy the biggest and best valentines each year? How could he go behind her back to pursue the little red-haired girl? And how could he go behind the little red-haired girl's back and keep seeing Violet?
Thinning his lips, Charlie Brown decided he had to do something.
He paid Snoopy ten cookies to distract Shermy, which the beagle gladly accepted. While Snoopy headed to the front yard with juggling pins and a box of matches, Charlie Brown sneaked under the hedge barrier in the backyard and headed over to Violet's. He found her on her front walk jumping rope. Her pretty face was pink from the exercise, and she must have been in a good mood because she actually smiled when she saw Charlie Brown approaching.
"What brings you here?" she asked, pausing in her jumps as he drew close. "Anything special happen?"
Charlie Brown rubbed the back of his neck. "Yes, and… I have something important to tell you."
She tilted her head. "What's up?"
He looked at his feet. This was not his area of expertise, and he was pretty sure that she might yell at him once he told her the truth; people tended to yell about difficult stuff like this on TV shows. Even so, he could not turn back now. Violet deserved to know what was going on.
"Well, ah, I, uh, got a real valentine today," he began. "Finally."
"Congratulations," she replied cheerfully. "Was it nice? Did the sender have good taste?"
"It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen," he confessed.
For some reason, she looked pleased. "How cute! You must really appreciate the sender then."
"It was anonymous," he admitted, "but I have reason to believe a girl at our school gave it to me."
Her smile broadened. "Oh, who?"
"That's not important right now," he insisted, flushing, but he forced himself to stay focused. He wrung his hands, taking a deep breath. "The reason I'm here… well… Shermy seemed to know who sent it. He told me the anonymous girl gave him a great valentine yesterday."
"So?"
He did a double take, wondering if she had heard him clearly — or maybe he had not been obvious enough.
"So, I thought you'd like to know… about another girl giving Shermy a valentine."
Violet squinted at him, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't know how else to say it," he gulped. "A girl gave both me and Shermy valentines, and he got super mad… about another girl giving me a valentine."
She folded her arms.
"I realize this is a real shock," he said, concerned. "Take your time to process it."
Her lips pursed. Then she smiled — and covered her mouth, giggling.
"Some people handle heartbreak differently," he marveled warily. Had she just cracked in front of his eyes?
She doubled over now, clutching her sides. Her gales of laughter nearly knocked her off her feet. Charlie Brown reached for her shoulder, beginning to get alarmed.
"Is this hysterics?" he asked. "I've heard about them, but I'm not sure how to treat them. Do we need an ambulance?"
That made her laugh harder. She reached up and clutched his arm to keep herself from collapsing. She managed to gulp a few breaths, and when she raised her head, her dancing eyes had tears, and her fair cheeks now looked red.
"Oh, you really are something, you know that?" she tittered, still gripping him.
"Do I need to get your mother to help?" he asked. "Or call the family doctor?"
She shook her head, smiling, and at last she straightened, smoothing her green dress.
"Charlie Brown," she said lightly, "didn't you put two and two together yet? Shermy got a great valentine from the same girl who gave you that belated one, right?"
"That's what he said," he replied blankly.
"A girl Shermy really likes."
"I'm afraid so."
"Didn't you remember that I always give Shermy great valentines, and he really likes me?"
"Well, sure, but it can't be you who he was talking about."
"And why not?"
"Because that would mean that you—"
He stopped. His hands fell to his sides.
She burst into laughter again. "You should see your face right now! Oh, this is so much fun!"
He felt the blood rise to his cheeks. "You?"
"Unless you really did get a valentine from another girl who Shermy likes," she grinned, stooping to pick up her fallen jump rope, "in which I would have to clobber him."
Charlie Brown could only gape as she started skipping again, certain his head probably resembled a huge tomato. It took him several minutes to recover his voice.
"…Why?"
"Why not?" she replied, a little breathless now from her exertion.
"You're always yelling at me," he squeaked. "Even when you used to invite me to your house, you'd get mad and make me leave."
She allowed the swinging rope to hit the concrete and calmly took one last jump before she turned to him.
"But didn't I always tell you," she returned softly, "that I liked you, just a little?"
"Sometimes," he admitted.
"Well, that little part of me wanted to give you a valentine this year," she continued, "so I decided to humor it."
"Violet, I…" He stopped, not sure what to say.
"Don't get any funny ideas now," she warned, folding her arms and jerking her face away. "I don't like you that way. I like Shermy."
"I know." He paused. "But you really do like me?"
"A little, little bit — but don't spread that around to the other kids," she warned, wagging a stern finger at him. "I have a reputation to protect, and if you tell anybody, I'll deny it."
At his fervent nod, she made another two jumps with her rope, then stopped again. "Did you really come all the way over here because you thought Shermy was hurting me?"
"Well, it seemed like the right thing to do at the time." He rubbed his neck. "Glad I was wrong."
"But that's pretty sweet," she smiled. "I forgot how noble you can be."
He found himself grinning. He shuffled his feet.
"I really wanted to thank my anonymous valentine, you know," he said slowly. "It was the best surprise I could have gotten."
"So, don't mope next year and say you never get valentines," she replied. "I gave you something two years in a row, so you better not forget it."
"No, I don't suppose I could," he answered. His smile widened — but his face drained of heat when a scathing voice exploded behind him.
"So!"
He whirled around, gulping. Shermy stormed up the front walk, his teeth gritted. Charlie Brown shrank back several steps.
"I knew Snoopy was only distracting me!" Shermy snarled. "And here I find you, backstabber!"
Charlie Brown held up his hands. "Shermy, it's not what you think!"
The normally quiet boy looked ready to lunge at him — but Violet strode forward, brightening.
"Shermy!" she sang. She grabbed his arm, yanking him back down the front walk. "I was just thinking I wanted someone to buy me a hot-fudge sundae. Let's go!"
Shermy sputtered, struggling. "But Charlie Brown—"
She cut him off with a laugh. "Charlie Brown isn't going to buy me a sundae! His dad's too poor. C'mon!"
"But—"
"C'mon!" she trilled.
Shermy shot a suspicious look at Charlie Brown, but he allowed Violet to drag him toward the sidewalk, where she finally released his arm. Shermy looked again at his supposed rival, then at the calm Violet, and he held out his hand. She took it, smiling. Shermy straightened, suddenly looking a lot more composed, and he even swaggered a little as he and Violet started down the street.
"There goes a nice couple," Charlie Brown said under his breath. He was glad he had not gotten into a fight, and he was glad that Shermy had not been getting heartfelt valentines from another girl — especially the little red-haired girl.
Most of all, he was glad to know who had sent him his first real valentine. Back when he had a crush on Violet, he would have traded his pitching arm to get a valentine from her, but, somehow, it meant more to him now, knowing it was a sign of her friendship (even though she was reluctant to call it as such).
With the danger passed, he hooked his thumbs on his pocket and headed for home.
THE END