For most people, December is all about Christmas, but not for Alvin. He’s always been far more into the lesser celebrated St. Nick’s Day, and he loves trying to plan the perfect gift for his beloved Milo. This year he may have very well outdone himself. Little does he know, though, that Milo has something extra special planned.
It's been a bumpy year and, while the holidays are just around the corner, Milo has been working on his gift for Alvin for months now. He can’t wait to give Alvin the token of his love.
The next few hours passed in the grueling task of shuffling boxes and pieces of furniture into the house. Milo let Alvin direct things, knowing how his beloved liked to stay organized and his career as an interior designer was taking off. Once they’d known the house was theirs, the keys dropped into their hands by the realtor, they’d wandered the empty rooms designating each place an identity, a purpose, and so the boxes were moved into the respective rooms. From the vast collection of books into a spare bedroom meant to serve as the library to the dishes into the kitchen.
Milo was in the process of moving things I to the back shed, having just dropped off a box of tools, when he paused. He stood in place for a few minutes, simply staring.
“What are you doing?” Alvin called, coming down off the back porch. “Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing, just thinking.”
“About?”
Milo gestured at the tree, a massive oak, a few feet from the shed. “I’ve always wanted a yard full of trees. Our own trees. No having to walk down to the park to enjoy the great outdoors.” He placed a hand against the rough bark, then glanced over his shoulder. “Would you like a swing? Think about it, a swing of your own. Come out here at dusk, the sun setting and painting the sky a rainbow of colors, birds singing, just swinging.”
As he spoke, Alvin’s face lit up. “You, you would do that for me?”
“Of course, why not? Whatever you want, my dear.” Milo turned, placing his hands on Alvin’s waist and drawing him closer. “From here and until the end of time,” he said before leaning in for a kids. Their lips met and Milo caught the hint of chocolate, Alvin’s favorite indulgence, and usually his go-to treat when feeling stressed. His heart fluttered, warmth spreading through him. When they parted, he was pleased to see the rush of color in Alvin’s cheeks. To know he still had that power over him, it filled Milo with a sense of awe. “I have an idea.”
“Another one?”
“Yep.” From his back pocket Milo retrieved a knife he’d been using and returned to the tree. Like he’d seen in the movies many times, Milo began to carve into the bark. He started with the traditional heart shape, then placed his initials and Alvin’s within, stepping back to admire his work. “What do you think?”
“No one has ever carved my name, well, my initials, into a tree,” Alvin said. He rubbed his hand over the fresh carving. Milo saw the glisten of tears in his eyes. “I love it. I love you. I can’t wait to build a life with you here.”
“We started building a life the moment your eyes met mine,” Milo stated. Then he smiled coyly. “Want to go christen our new bedroom?”
