T H E S W E E T E S T S A T U R D A Y

Author: Liza C. Title: The Sweetest Saturday "You can have one.  But only one, don't be greedy."   "How did you know I was even here?"  He jumps slightly from where he'd been leaning over my desk.  "You're like a cat… some sort of evil cat, or a sorceress or something." "I can sense you."  I've whipped around so that now I'm facing him.  Josh looks like a little boy who's just been caught pilfering cookies from the cookie jar. Some people might describe the expression on his face as cute.  Not me, of course, but some people.  It's funny; he thinks I have some sort of sixth sense when it comes to him.  Really, I can just see him in the reflection of the glass.  You would think he'd notice my desk is surrounded by glass.  But I'm not going to point it out; if he thinks I have uncanny abilities, I'm just going to keep on letting him think that.  I raise my eyebrows at him.   "But I'm not evil."   "Yeah…"  His voice is dry and he says it like he doesn't believe me. Leisurely, I make my way back to my desk. "What's going on, besides you trying to steal my candy?" I ask as I tap some papers on my desk to straighten them. "I was not trying to steal candy." "You weren't?" "Of course not."  He puts his hand on his chest as if he's aghast at the accusation. "Then what were you doing?" "I was going to borrow a piece of candy without you knowing." "Borrow…" "Yes." "Candy?" "Sure."  He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "How do you borrow candy?  It's candy.  It's nonrefundable.  You can't return it after you use it." "You take the candy.  You eat the candy and then, if you're dealing with a tight-ass candy-counting nutrition freak, you go buy more candy with which to replace it." "Josh?"  I smile sweetly at him. "Yes, Donna." "Would you like a piece of candy?"  I open the tin and hold it out for his inspection. "You're going to let me eat a piece of candy?"  He looks at me like I've caught some sort of tropical fever that causes insanity. "Yes." "Why?" "You're allowed treats… every once in a while." "Would I own this candy, or would I just be renting it?"   He asks sardonically. "Just take the damn candy!"  If I sounded a big aggravated there… it's because I was.  I don't like being the food police… I do it because I care.  About my job, remember? Apparently that does the trick.  He grabs a piece of candy and then steps back as if he's afraid I'm going to slap his hand and try and take it away.  As he takes a bite, I sit back down at my computer and pretend to start working.  He's silent for several seconds as he chews the candy.  But that doesn't last long.  I knew it wouldn't. "Hey, Donna?" "Mmmm." "What's the big tin of candy for?" "You don't know what today is?" "Um… October… something?"  He furrows his brow, before continuing with a shrug. "It's Saturday, I know that much." "It's the third Saturday in October…"  I look at him knowingly, waiting for him to catch on.  I know.  I'm going to be waiting a long time. "Okaaaay."  He nods his head slowly at me. "What's the third Saturday in October?" "Sweetest Day."   "Whose day?" "Sweetest Day.  The third Saturday in October. Today." "Right, of course."  He pauses for several beats.   "Donna?" "Hmmm."   "What in the heck is Sweetest Day?" "Must we go through this every year?"  I look at him with real exasperation. "We've gone through this before?" "Uh-huh."  I nod. "When?" "Last year… the year before…" "Were you talking to yourself those times or was I actually, you know, in the room?" "You were in the room." "Huh…" He shrugs. "That's interesting.  You know, if I've survived this long without the details, I guess I'm okay with my current level of knowledge.  Thanks for the candy."  He turns and starts walking back towards his office. Well, that won't do.  I jump up to follow him.  "You know, you really shouldn't be happy with your, quite frankly, deficient knowledge of American traditions." "American tradition?  If this… sweet thing… is such a tradition, how is it that I've never heard of it?"  Now we're in his office, and I just stand across from him, staring him down. He knows me well enough to know that I'm not leaving until he asks the question. On cue, he relents. "Fine, if it means an end to this conversation, enlighten me." "Sweetest Day is a holiday started in the twenties in Cleveland by Herbert Birch Kingston.  He wanted to bring happiness to the lives of orphans, so he gave them candy and other small tokens.  It's evolved into a holiday where you express romantic love and appreciation for friends and family."  I finish with a self- satisfied nod.  Honestly, I've been waiting to use this knowledge on somebody.  What's the use of knowing interesting stuff if you can't fascinate other people with it? "Is that the Encyclopedia Britannica entry?" He's mocking me.   "No, it's my entry." "You terrify me sometimes."  He shakes his head at me. "I terrify myself sometimes." "If this is a real holiday, why have I never heard of it?" "Sheltered?"  I respond sweetly. "Normal," he answers back quickly. "Well… I admit, I have found that not many people outside the northern Midwest celebrate the holiday." "Ah-ha!  I knew it.  It's another thing you people who can't see the ocean invent to keep yourselves busy.   That and farm animal festivals…" "You are so dismissive to cultural ideologies that are not your own.  Do I laugh at Yom Kippur or Passover just because I wasn't brought up celebrating them?" "Yom Kippur and Passover are religious holidays with thousands of years of ritual behind them, and when was the last time I observed either one?" "Never.  Even after I bought that yarmulke and-" "Tried to force me to fast!"  His voice is severe, but he's trying hard not to smile.  I can always tell when he's suppressing a smile; his dimples come out despite his forced grimace.  "I must say I appreciated you hiding my lunch that day… especially when I did not have any desire to observe any…thing." "Josh, holidays are the cultural basis for a society and-"   "Donna."  He just interrupted me and not with a playful tone.  I hate it when he does that. "Yes?" "If it wouldn't detract from your sweet day festivities and opining about cultural and religious traditions, could you please get me the guy from the place on the phone? You know… so we could work and get the hell out of here early today?" "Today is Sweetest Day, not sweet day." I stick out my tongue at him, before turning towards the door. "And yes." Fine. I'll get the guy from the place on the phone.   Besides, I'm busy and have things to do.  I don't want to talk to him about sweet day anymore, anyway.  I mean Sweetest Day. *** "So, an expression of romantic love, eh?"  I glance up from my computer to find Josh standing over my desk.   It's been over an hour since I left his office and got the guy from the place on the phone for him. "What?" "Sweetest Day.  You said you give gifts as an expression of romantic love on Sweetest Day?" He looks a little uncomfortable.  He's rocking back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels and his fists are shoved deep in his pockets. "Yeah…" "Who's expressing romantic love for you?"  He nods to the tin of candy on my desk.   Oh.  Interesting.  He's not serious, is he?  It's freaking homemade toffee in a tin with autumn leaves on it.  He doesn't think some boyfriend gave me this… does he?   And if he does… why would he even care? "You think my boyfriend made me homemade toffee and then gave it to me in this decorative fall tin?"  I can't help it, I giggle. "He didn't?"  If I'm not mistaken, he looked almost… hopeful right then. "No, Josh.  My mom sent me the homemade toffee, just like she does every year." "Oh… that's nice."  He's staring at the floor intently.  I'm not sure what he could be looking at so keenly. Did they forget to vacuum in here or something? Without looking up, he continues… "Then *what* did your boyfriend give you?" "My boyfriend?"  I'm staring at him curiously.  If I'm not mistaken, he looks a little red.  But it's hard to tell, as I can't see much of his face. "Yeah, you just said 'you think my boyfriend gave this to me'…"  He trails off and doesn't finish the sentence.   Hmm? Just because I said… that doesn't mean I have a boyfriend.  And why won't he look at me?  Why does he continue to stare at the floor?  However, if he wants to hear about my boyfriend, I can oblige. "Oh him.  Jewelry.  He's big on jewelry."  Josh's head just shot up and now he's staring at me.  This is fun.  "I said he shouldn't spend his money on me like that, but he insisted." "Jewelry?"  Josh sounds like he's choking.  He did have another piece of toffee, when I said it was from my mother.  Maybe I should round my desk and perform the Heimlich? "Yes, jewelry.  Diamonds, mostly, from his family mine in South Africa.  He gave me this necklace."  I bring my hand to my bare neck. "Donna, you're not wearing a necklace."  His voice is still sort of strangled. I'm not sure what's wrong with him, but he's acting sort of… not well. "I'm not?"  I look down with mock surprise.  Glancing back up to him, I continue. "Oh, that's right, you can't see the necklace because it's imaginary… just like my boyfriend."  I shake my head at him.  "Josh, when in the heck would I have time to find a boyfriend who would buy me jewelry? I spend every waking minute with you.   Besides, it's only been a couple weeks since my non-date with the exterminator." "You just made up a South African diamond mining boyfriend?"  Funny, he seems fully recovered suddenly.   Well, recovered enough to smirk, anyway. I shake my head at him.  "If I'm going to invent an imaginary boyfriend who's going to give me imaginary Sweetest Day gifts… then they might as well be good gifts." "True…"  Josh is grinning. A big, wide grin. "What's, uh…"  He clears his throat and nods to my computer, where the website for the Chicago Sun-Times is in the browser.  "What's going on in Chicago?"   Change of subject?  Very smooth, Josh. Except not. "Oh.   I'm trying to order several copies of today's paper." "Why?" "You remember me talking about my cousin Carrie?  She lives in Chicago now… teaches ballet?"  I look at him questioningly, but I'm getting no indication that he has any idea what I'm talking about.  I've mentioned Carrie, Chicago and ballet several times to him, but apparently that went right over his head, just like the Sweetest Day conversation last year. "Well, she volunteers for a non- profit that brings arts and culture to inner-city children.   The paper did a big story on the program and they featured her!  Her picture is in the paper and there's an interview and everything." "Oh."  Josh nods.  "That's nice.  Um… I'd like to read it." "You would?"  I look at him incredulously.  "Why?  You forgot I even had a cousin named Carrie until I just mentioned her, didn't you?" "I did not!"  He's indignant now.  Maybe he didn't forget about Carrie, but he definitely didn't remember the details.  "I remembered… some stuff…" "Okay…" "I did." "Alright." "And I'd like to read the article." "Okay, when I get a copy I'll let you see it." "Okay."  He looks around uncomfortably for a second before adding, "I'm going back into my office now." "Godspeed."  He looks at me oddly before starting towards his office.  After that conversation, how can he stand there and look at me oddly?  If anyone's acting peculiarly, it's him. *** Three o'clock.  I'm leaving at three o'clock today!  And it's ten till right now.  Josh's conversation with the guy from the place this ]morning went well, which means we can leave at a decent time today, and three o'clock is the target.  That's when he's due back from the Hill and he said that, barring something unforeseen, we'd be able to leave then.  I've spent the bulk of the afternoon over at the OEOB doing some research.  While I did get done what needed to get done, I have been thinking about my conversation with Josh from this morning. A lot. I find it curious that he was interested in my diamond-mining- homemade-candy-giving boyfriend.  What?  I just said I found his interest curious. I'm not reading anything more into it. I sit down at my desk and start packing up. Just so I can be ready when Josh gets back and says we can go.  Just as I'm about to power down my computer, a hand reaches over my desk and sets a plastic cup from Starbucks on my desk.  It's a frappuccino.  I look up to find Josh standing behind me. "Is this for me?"  He nods and I crinkle my forehead. "You brought me a frappuccino?"   "Yup."  It's hard to read his expression when I'm essentially looking at him upside down. "Why?"  I spin around in my chair to face him.  That's better.  Right side up. "Because…because it's Sweetest Day.  It's a… holiday you celebrate. I didn't want your sweetest day to go by unmarked… except, of course, by your mom and your imaginary boyfriend.  You know how I feel about occasions." "You're a man of them?" "Yes."  He allows a shy smile at me and I feel my heart get a little warm.  Why is my heart getting warm?  I glance down to the plastic cup as a way of telling myself that it's just a frappuccino.  But that just reinforces what he's done; he brought me an iced coffee beverage for Sweetest Day.  Now I feel like I might cry.  U-oh, that's worse than the warm feeling.  Why am I about to cry over a frappuccino?  That's ridiculous. I'm not that much of a sap.  It's just a damn frappuccino!  Nonetheless, I'm seriously misting up here.   "And…"  I glance up just in time to see him bring his arm from behind his desk and drop a bundle on my desk.  I turn back toward my desk and look at what he just dropped.  Three copies of today's Chicago Sun-Times.   Now I'm really about to come undone.   "Where…"  I'm in awe and just stare at him for a second.  He's turning a little red under my searching look. "Where did you find these?" "That newsstand by the Capitol.  They… uh… have newspapers from all over the world and apparently… Chicago."  He's fidgeting a little, and looks… nervous. "Josh…"  I meet his eye, and unfortunately he can see the emotion clearly written across my face.  It's just that this is so unlike Josh, and actually so like him at the same time.  One minute he can be dismissive and thoughtless, and the next amazingly considerate and… sweet.  For some reason, despite all the times he's been the former, it really gets to me when he's the latter. He backs up a step and waves his hands dismissively in front of his chest. "It's not a big deal.  I was over there for that meeting in Dirksen, so I went into the shop on a whim and they had them. Please don't make a big-" He stops mid-sentence because I've jumped out of my chair and flung my arms around his neck.  He stands rigid for a moment, but after a split-second I feel him relax as his arms come reflexively around my waist.  It's been a while since I've hugged Josh.  I've got to tell you, it's something I wish we did more often, because it feels really good.  I mean, amazingly good. His arms are strong and solid around me and his chest is broad and firm against mine. He's exactly the right height so that I can bury my face in his neck; his hair tickles my cheek and he smells like soap and… Josh.  I have to admit, it's a little intoxicating. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.   Reluctantly, I eventually loosen my grip from around his neck and we both slowly step back from one another.   "Thank you..."   "Donna." His voice is husky and he pauses to clear his throat. "Seriously, its nothing-" I ignore him.  "… For thinking of me." He stops and then smiles at me. "You're welcome.   Happy Sweetest Day."  We stand looking at each other for a long minute; for the life of me, I can't figure out what he's thinking, but he's the first to break the moment, so I lose my chance to figure it out.  He quirks his lips at me and then turns and heads towards his office. "Wait… one thing. This…" I motion to the items on my desk as he turns back towards me. "How did you come up with a frappuccino and newspapers for Sweetest Day?" "You mentioned… something sweet and a token."  I just stand staring at him a minute, unblinking.  Finally, I bite my lip and nod slowly at him.   "Yes, I did."  He turns and continues on into his office.  I also mentioned romantic love, but I don't think we need to go there… do we? The End.

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