Day 500

Walter and I started looking for a house when we got home from our honeymoon. What we didn't expect was for the perfect house to fall into our laps only two weeks later. There was no big hurry to move out of the loft, so we had been taking our time updating the house and remodeling rooms to be a perfect fit for our definitely not-normal family of three, plus a little room to grow if the family expanded later.

Walter and Ralph had been in heaven equipping an outbuilding at the back of the property to be a proper lab, complete with an air-gapped computer server so Walter could keep his information safe from other hackers and malicious entities who might mean us harm. In addition to the outbuilding, they had also taken over the downstairs mother-in-law suite for an office for Walter along with room for his binders and binders of notes and space for smaller projects. Walter hadn't really believed he would find anywhere else he would prefer to the Garage, but his rooms in the new house were slowly convincing him that perhaps he might have been wrong.

In a particularly magnanimous burst of EQ, Walter insisted that I also have a space to make my own and he appropriated the den for my sanctuary. Yoga studio, personal library, home office, and art studio were among the possibilities that Walter had offered when we first talked about how I could use the room and make it my own. I still hadn't decided what I wanted to do with it, but I wasn't in any particular hurry to decide.

What I was ready to get figured out on a rainy Saturday was getting my new kitchen organized. Walter and Ralph were headed to a lecture at the Science Center and when I heard that, I knew that this would be the perfect day to tackle the kitchen. We weren't bringing anything over from the loft's kitchen, we still needed stuff there. And, to be honest, there wasn't much there that I actually wanted to put in my newly remodeled cupboards and drawers.

I had spent the last few weeks shopping online, along with the occasional excursion to a home store with Allie and I was ready to finally take the time to find homes for my new appliances and dishes. Walter and Ralph had kindly offered their services as muscle and brain to help arrange the kitchen optimally and efficiently. But I was uninterested in 'optimal and efficient.' I wanted intuitive, decorative, and fun. And for those parameters, I was decidedly, blessedly on my own.

I unlocked the front door and passed through the main living area juggling two grocery bags full of a variety of spices along with a few of my favorite cookbooks on my way to the kitchen. My hands were full and I was preoccupied with not dropping anything so I almost missed that the door to 'my' room was closed, even though I know I left it open the last time I was here, and there was something taped to it. I continued toward the kitchen and dropped everything on the kitchen counter. Intrigued, I abandoned my kitchen organization plans for the moment and returned to the closed door. There was a smallish piece of cardboard taped securely to it that read simply 'For Paige. Look inside.'

I pushed the door open, uncertain of what I would find on the other side. All I saw at first were the boxes that I had piled along one wall, including a box of my journals that had been in a corner of Walter's loft, covered with an old tarp, collecting dust these past couple of years. But after a moment, I noticed what appeared to be an intricately carved cupboard complete with a door along the far wall. As I moved closer I saw that its door had a gorgeous brass lock. A key was inserted into the lock, a fluffy pompom keychain dangling off the end of it. There was something taped to the door as well, but this time it was an envelope, 'Paige' written on the front in Walter's efficient and minimalist handwriting. I opened the envelope and pulled out the card within.

My Darling Paige,

I thought you might enjoy something special in this room. The key is yours and yours alone, I don't have a copy. Anything that you secure inside will only be accessible to you. You can put anything inside that you choose, but I thought you might find it useful for your growing collection of journals.

I noticed several months ago that you started keeping a journal. I didn't know if it was an endeavor you would keep up long-term, since, to my knowledge, you had never kept a journal before. But as time passed and you continued writing and the stack of filled journals grew, I deduced that you would soon require a larger more permanent, and protective storage option for them. I also knew that you would desire something beautiful as well as functional in which to store them. So with the rate of journal completion in mind and actuary tables calculating your likely lifespan and then adding ten percent as a safety margin, I believe that this cupboard will hold all the journals you will complete in your lifespan with room to spare.

You have never mentioned the journals to me and I respect your desire for privacy of your innermost thoughts as that is the purpose generally speaking of keeping a journal. The completed journals hold your thoughts and for that reason are precious to me and I want you to be able to treat them as the precious treasures that they are.

All my love,

Walter O'Brien

I carefully folded the card and tucked it back into its envelope. Then I unlocked the door to the cupboard and placed the key and the note on one of the shelves. I ran my fingers across the shelves that had been smoothed to the texture of silk and marveled at Walter's craftsmanship and his uncanny ability to keep a secret. After a thorough inspection of Walter's gift, I noticed a small engraving in the back lower left corner, just above the bottom shelf. 'Made with love by Walter O'Brien.'

I had promised myself that I wouldn't cry the moment I saw that first note on the door, and I had managed to keep that promise to myself until I saw those words carved into the wood. I stood for just a moment, running my fingers over Walter's love letter to me, letting tears flow freely. Seeing Walter's carving reminded me of the Christmas gift I had purchased for myself a few weeks ago that I hadn't used yet. This seemed like the perfect time. Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I found the mini instant photo printing camera in my purse and hurried back to the cupboard. I checked to make sure that there was film in the camera and then snapped a photo, watching with delight as it developed before my eyes, and Walter's words carved into the cupboard appeared. I loved the idea that I could now take photos of evidence of Walter's love and tuck them into my journal pages along with my written accounts. I placed that precious photo on the shelf next to the note and the key.

I lifted the box of journals from the pile of boxes across the room and opening the lid, I began placing the records of Walter's weird and wonderful ways of showing his love for me inside yet another example of the depth of his devotion. I placed them carefully on the shelves in chronological order, resisting the urge to leaf through their pages. I knew if I started rereading and remembering the moments when Walter was sweeter than I ever deserved I would never get anything done. Once the journals were safely placed inside the cupboard, I removed the envelope and photo, shut and locked the door, and pocketed the key.

I walked into the kitchen and placed the note, photo, and key securely inside my purse. I didn't want to take a chance on losing any of those treasures. I fully intended to start setting up the kitchen myself. Instead, I found myself texting Walter inviting him and Ralph to come over to the new house after the lecture to help me set up the kitchen as optimally and efficiently as possible. After hitting send, I put the phone down on the counter, contemplating how beautiful efficient and optimal could be, especially when it involved Walter O'Brien.