Great Expectations

I remember the first time I encountered Valentine's Day expectations in an office setting. It was ugly.

I'd been married for 47 days. When I showed up for my part-time job as a student assistant in a WSU office, I quickly realized a competition was ensuing. And yes, size did matter. The person who had received a vase of  three arranged roses was quickly trumped by the delivery of a dozen to another waiting coworker. Then someone pulled ahead by getting two dozen. Others fretted, wondering if their husbands had remembered to call the florist. I swear some of them had checklists--"OK, Susie's got hers, Mary, Bev, and Pam have all had deliveries. That just leaves. . . "The office manager broke down in tears--she'd been through a nasty breakup a few months prior, my boss pulled me aside to explain.

And they all looked at me, the newlywed, pitying my empty desk.

The year before on Valentine's Day, I'd received a dozen red roses from Dave, and a cake that said "Be Mine" with an engagement ring inside. But now we were one--heart, soul, and checking account. And there wasn't much in the latter.I certainly hadn't expected him to send me anything. The thought actually hadn't crossed my mind until our office turned into the Rose Bowl.

When the day was over, they all cleared out, balancing their vases of token roses with their briefcases, worrying aloud how they would transport them without spilling. I left empty-handed.

And when I opened the door to our one-bedroom apartment, my new sweet husband Dave was waiting for me with a vase of three roses and a little plush teddy bear. "I never thought about it, but I probably should have had this delivered to you at work," he said.

"Oh, that's okay," I said.

And it was.

Dave made up for any Valentine's Day oversights in the past by surprising me with two dozen roses on our 20th anniversary AFTER we'd spent a week vacationing in Cancun.