Every year when Valentine’s Day rolls around, Walter Chester’s mouth begins to drool. For the past ten years, he and his wife Beth have spent cupid’s holiday at Mario’s Restaurant indulging in the most-delectable Italian foods and wine. Upon returning home, the two cozy up in front of the television to watch The Honeymooners and share a Valentine of Russell Stover chocolate.
Unfortunately for Walter, this year Beth is determined to stick with her diet and exercise plan that she began right after the New Year’s holiday. As she prepares to break the news to her husband over breakfast, she braces herself for the inevitable tug-of-war.
“How about hittin’ me with another short stack sweetie?” asked Walter, smacking his lips and wiping maple syrup from his chin.
Beth, sipping her coffee, “Walt, do you honestly think you need it?”
“If you want me to shovel that foot of snow out there so you can head over to Fat Central—yes, I do” he chided.
Beth tilted her head with a look of annoyance, “I’ll have you know that I am totally committed to the gym this year. The girls and I have decided to take charge of our bodies.”
Walter handed her his plate, “Cool, throw another side of “oink” on here while you’re at it.”
Beth rolled her eyes and shook her head as she took the plate over to the stove to pile on Walter’s second helping. Foregoing further hesitation, she proceeded to bring up her plans for Valentine’s Day.
“While we’re on the subject of food, I’ve decided we’re not going to Mario’s this year for Valentine’s Day and I don’t want you to buy me any chocolate either.” She sat down and handed Walter his plate.
“Why not?” he asked dumbfounded.
“Because,” she replied, “I don’t want the temptation.”
“But it’s Valentine’s Day. We always go to Mario’s.”
“Not this year. It will completely blow my diet.”
Beth now had her husband’s full attention. Walter sat holding his fork over the untouched second stack.
“You can have a salad,” he offered.
“Walter, be serious. I’m not going to sit eating a plate of rabbit food staring at your pile of lasagna and baskets of garlic bread, not to mention the cannoli.”
“I’ll get calamari,” Walter debated. “That’s fish. You can have fish can’t you?”
“Not deep-fried, and you’re not hearing me…” in a singsong voice.
“Okay,” as he finally attacks his pancakes. “We can go someplace else but I’m definitely buying Russell Stover.”
“No you’re not, I don’t want chocolate.”
“Well, Valentine’s Day isn’t just about YOU,” he whined. “I’m a Valentine too and I love Nut, Chewy and Crisp!”
Beth smiled. “Yes, you are a Valentine and don’t worry, I got you something.”
“Well its first name better be Russell,” he warned.
Beth poured herself another cup of coffee, feeling pleased with herself for standing her ground.
“No Mario’s, no Russell and no whining. All of us girls agreed to spend Valentine’s Day evening together at the gym, working out. And that’s that.”
Walter stared at his wife for a minute, ”So what do you want for Valentine’s Day then?”
Beth felt relief, “Well, since you’re allergic to flowers and perfume, how about some lingerie?”
“I’m not going to a lingerie store,” resuming his stack attack.
Beth laughed, “Why not?”
“Everything is so…pink,” he stuttered.
With a heavy sigh, Beth stared as Walter finished wiping his mouth.
“I know!” he snickered. “I’ll buy you an Aloe Plant. You can use it on that caloric burn you’re always talking about.”
Beth was unable to hide her disappointment, “Where is that romantic guy I married?”
“Still here sweetie,” grabbing his coat and gloves. “Same weight too.”
Beth bit her tongue until she heard the back door close. “Burn this.”
When the evening of Valentine’s Day arrived, Beth set off to meet her friends at the gym while Walter settled in on the sofa. The Honeymooners marathon was about to begin and although the absence of his wife was felt, the 2-lb box of Nut, Chewy And Crisp he managed to sneak past her offered him great comfort. As he ripped through the wrapping and pulled off the cover, the robustly rich smell of his favorite chocolate wafted around his nostrils till all he could do was close his eyes and feel the buzz. About five minutes later, the doorbell rang.
“One large pepperoni?” the delivery boy asked.
“That’s me,” replied Walter.
The boy continued, hoping for a nice tip, “Enjoying a happy Valentine’s Day sir?”
“Yes, very much,” shutting the door.
It wasn’t that Walter was cheap; he just couldn’t wait any longer to sink his teeth into his Valentine treats.
After only two episodes of Ralph Kramden sending Alice to the moon, Walter sat back on the sofa looking down at the all but empty box of chocolates and discarded pizza crusts. Admittedly, he felt like a stuffed sausage. Suddenly, the sound of keys in the front door made him jump—it was Beth!
“Hey you,” leaping off the sofa and shoving the remains of his feast to the floor. “You’re back early.”
The expression on her face was one of sheer disappointment.
“They all caved!” throwing her coat and purse in disgust. “I was the only one who showed up! They all went out to dinner with their husbands, can you believe that?”
“Aw, I’m sorry,” putting his arms around her, mainly to shield her from the incriminating evidence.
“They’re probably all out feasting on lobster ravioli,” she moaned then noticed the pizza box on the floor.
“You had pizza?” she asked with longing in her voice.
Walter stretched his arm behind the sofa and pulled out her Valentine gift.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he grinned as he handed her an Aloe plant wrapped with a big red ribbon.
Beth wasn't amused. She pouted as she lifted the cover to the empty pizza box. Walter suddenly remembered the last piece of chocolate still in the box on the floor and bent over to get it. When Beth saw it her mouth dropped
“Chocolates? You bought chocolates?” her eyes bulging with desire as she reached for them.
“Bad for the diet,” and popped it in his mouth.
Feeling depressed and defeated, Beth headed off towards the kitchen thinking out loud; “I wonder if kicking myself in the ass counts as aerobic activity.”
Walter, still working on the last Chewy, “Whatever gets your heart rate up sweetie.”
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Copyright 2011 by Janet Cipolli. All Rights Reserved.
