Package Box Girlfriend Romance Etc

In which our Hero can’t seem to make a title involving those words that doesn’t come out sounding like the title to a cheesy adult movie

I wasn’t going to talk about the last package I sent Nocturne, but Nocturne did write about it and then someone asked for the story and somehow it meant that I had to write it.

I made Nocturne cry.

Again.

Possibly twice, if I have to count individual events.

My mistake, as it so often is, was in trying to be clever. Because I figured that if I could just… well no, that’s not the beginning. I should tell this from the beginning.

I think the beginning was her saying something like “Hey, if you send me a package, and it’s not too much trouble, can you add some floss picks?” I try not to laugh at her saying “If” to me sending a package because I am really enjoying putting together these little care packages for her. Partly because I frequently end up using candy and chocolates as packing material, which are in short supply where she is, and anything she gets thrills her, and anything left over has to get put away too, mmm mmm.

Mostly I like sending her packages because she’s so far off the beaten path right now that, that a few little things can really improve the state of her day. And I like having something, however small, that I can do for her. But more than that, this time, was the fact that our first anniversary as a couple was falling around the time of the package and as much as distance and time and Nocturne herself excused me from any obligation to act… she’s my lady, and I wanted to mark the occasion.

Except then one of her tools broke, and I needed to wait to try to get that shipped. And then something else conspired to delay me. So the whole damn thing took way longer than expected to send. On the other hand, it usually only takes 5-6 weekdays for her to get something from me, so… not early, but excusably late. Thought that counts, right?

Well… sure, except the charming folks at the post office were winding up for a strike and while the package supposedly made it out before the strike hit, it vanished in international space for a while, before turning up, almost a week late, in the form of a “2nd and last notice” in her mailbox, a day or so before they were going to return to sender. She never got the first notice. And I was irritated that they were charging her an extra 10 bucks to receive it, but as far as she and I have been able to reconstruct, that’s just an effect of the evolving political situation in that part of the world.

In any case, I had asked her to please wait, best as she can, till I was on the phone with her so I could give her special instructions as she opened things up. Honestly, it was mostly so that I could just be there to hear her react, I mean, except for one little secret, it was just a box full of stuff.

But after a particularly bad day, she got my package and rather than making her wait till I got home from work, I called her up and she dug in. And I think this is the first time I’ve been “with” her while she opened a present and oh my gosh it was so much fun.

Because Nocturne was just plain excited. So she was thrilled to discover I’d stuck in a card to wish her a happy anniversary, and almost as thrilled to find a box of tissues that she’d mentioned. And giddy that I’d sent her a few different varieties of Coffee Crisps. And then flabbergasted that I’d sent her Kinder Buenos. She was floored, because she loves those candies, and demanded to know how I could have known she liked them. “I never told you I liked these, how did you know?” (Well, actually, she’d mentioned them when I sent her some KinderEggs, months before, and I just noticed them as I was picking up other things for her.)

But that’s what charmed me. She was excited about the envelopes I’d included because she’d asked for them, and she was excited about the crystal light packets, and she was excited about the cadbury minieggs and she was excited about the pens. And she was excited by the print I included of the giraffe I’d drawn her. And she was excited by the photo of me I’d included for her. (And because I had to confess to her after she expressed her pleasure at that one, I’ll share here that the only reason I included the picture of myself was that after I gave her a “framed” drawing of a giraffe and pictured it on her desk, only then did it occur to me that she might prefer “boyfriend” to “giraffe,” as good as the drawing of the giraffe was.)

And she was thrilled by the inclusion of a letter, because she likes getting letters from me, even though my handwriting is awful and she had to read me her guess at the first sentence twice before I could figure out what I’d written her, and translate.

And she was also thrilled with the umbrella. And the surprise within.

(Which water-related thing, Gentle Reader, is your clue that we’re getting close to me making her cry.)

She’d asked if I could find her a cheap umbrella, because hers had been wrecked in the winds. So I did some digging and despite desperately wanting to send her the children’s ladybug umbrella (with eyes!!), I forced myself to be more thoughtful, and got her a fancier umbrella that has relief ports cut into it to allow it to be more permeable to wind (and hopefully not rain). And then I opened up the umbrella and put in… Well, I added a temporary modification, just to allow me to ship one little secret.

And so when she picked up the umbrella and made excited noises about it, I asked her to open it up (which is good because it’s actually an odd little umbrella with a mechanical open *and* close, something I’ve never touched before so I got to explain that to her too), and then look at the spines closes to the shaft where there was a wire she needed to unthread.

I said wire because I didn’t want to give away the surprise before she realized what it was, but she was working in the not great lighting of her room, expecting nothing but what I told her, and so what she found was that “wire” was completely loose and tangled in the wires, and as I tried to explain to her how to identify what I meant and how to get it free, she started to think she’d capped her bad day by breaking the pretty, brand-new umbrella I’d gotten her and was getting more and more upset, up to the edge of tears.

And I didn’t know what else to do, so I interrupted her gently as I could, reassured her that she hadn’t broken her present, and explained that it wasn’t part of the umbrella. That I’d threaded it into the umbrella workings just so that it would be hidden and unobvious to eyeball and xray, in case someone wanted to pilfer. That it was a little necklace, for her, as a small token of affection to mark our anniversary together.

She extracted the necklace from the umbrella. And this time, she definitely cried. But they were good tears, so I think I’m forgiven.