Tony’s heart beat fast as the bank machine ejaculated ten crisp twenty-dollar bills from his checking account. He folded them into his pocket and went back to his truck. His hands felt slippery on the wheel. What an expense. What a length to go to for a Valentine gift. He’d never spent two hundred dollars on a woman before. Not in one shot. Not on anybody, ever.

Just eight months ago, if anybody had told him he’d be spending this much on a present, Tony would have thought they were nuts. But that was before Esther.

Dear, sweet, sophisticated Esther. They’d met at the coffee place one Saturday morning. He’d been impressed immediately by her placid Asian features, smooth, shiny hair, and her sleek pants suit. She was feminine, intelligent, mostly serious, but her shoulders would shake in silent laughter at a joke. Esther was a curator in an avant-garde sculpture gallery on the west side. She didn’t own a television. Or a pair of jeans. She read for pleasure. She listened to jazz. Opposites attract, and this simple carpenter fell in love in an instant.

She said she liked his rough hands, his strong shoulders. Although sometimes it seemed like all they ever did was have sex, he could sense more to her. And while she didn’t care for his Motley Crue CDs, and preferred not to watch “Orange County Choppers” with him, she seemed comfortable with him. Well, except the time her friends from the gallery came over unexpectedly. That time, she told them he was the carpenter and hustled him out the front door. He felt angry about that at first and confronted her with it, but then Esther cried, and Tony just couldn’t be angry anymore. He’d make do with sex and the occasional episode of “OCC.” Esther was worth it. Anything for her.

He pulled into the parking lot, shouldered his way through the shopping crowds to the counter and leaned against the glass, gazing at the gift. Was he making the right decision? Tony hesitated. Yes, he resolved. The counterperson rang it up and within minutes, Tony was gently placing the package in his trunk.

             It was the best he could afford, the perfect Valentine’s Day gift for Esther. He’d chosen a very modern-looking model, so it would fit in well with the décor in her loft apartment, and he knew for a fact that she didn’t already have one. Tony couldn’t wait to see the look in her eyes.

Every girl needs a deluxe miter saw.

Copyright 2006 Amy Frushour Kelly. All rights reserved. Reproduction by any means prohibited without prior written consent.