Valentine dinners with my parents became a thing of the past once I was old enough to date and crushes ran hot and cold. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, more than likely I wasn’t missed those evenings anyway!
Still, before heading out for the evening I always received a sweet card, possibly a small gift of sorts, and upon returning home later; I indulged in my fair share of whatever home-made, mouth-watering dessert Mother had prepared for the occasion. Typically it was a layered cake baked in heart-shaped pans, a scrumptious treat she served each year and I’m proud to say those special pans are now in my possession.
My senior year in high school, was under siege on Valentine’s Day with a storm blasting its way across the plains. School was dismissed early and “puppy love” dates were cancelled. After a few years without my presence for the evening, I’d be celebrating with my parents. Amazingly, it came to be an event that left a picture perfect imprint in my mind and an unsurpassed sentiment in my heart.
Mother had prepared Dad’s favorite meal for dinner but as the storm intensified she began to watch the clock and pace the floor.
“I’m really getting worried. With this weather I knew your Dad would be a little late getting home, but not this late!” She busied herself keeping dinner warm determined not to burn anything, but continued her march to and fro glancing out windows for headlights.
As a self-absorbed teenager, I continued with my phone conversation until I heard the door open and Mother wailing, “Oh, where have you been? I’ve just been worried sick!”
I rounded the corner to see Dad with his arms full of flowers and a box of chocolates. He smiled, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Honey!” Mom threw her arms around him…causing him to juggled gifts while trying graciously to accept Mom’s embrace.
The bouquet of flowers took center stage on the dinner table and we seated ourselves for dinner.I reached for my napkin and spied a small package by my plate that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
“What’s this,” I asked filled with excitement and surprise for Mother had already given me a sweet card and a tiny figurine.
“Just open it!” Dad’s brilliant blue eyes sparkled with mischief.
I ripped into the package lickety-split and could barely speak; it was a new bottle of Ambush cologne, quite a popular and affordable scent for teenagers at that day in time.
“Dad! Did you buy this all by yourself?” I squealed.
“Well, just kind of. It took some help from the clerk—actually it took a lot of help!”
I was stunned beyond belief. A Valentine gift purchased by Dad; Mom always did the shopping. I levitated from my chair to give him a bear hug and big kiss!
“You know I’ve seen that perfume around here forever and figured I could remember the name if I thought about western movies. Ya know how they’re always ambushing one another. Well, everything was fine until the clerk as me what brand…I told her Apache.”
“Apache!” I giggled until tears rolled down my cheeks.
Dad snorted and informed me it really wasn’t that funny at all. The clerk insisted there was no such cologne, while he swore there was. They went ‘round and ‘round until he decided maybe he had forgotten the name—but made it clear he would recognize the smell his daughter seemingly bathed in. That’s when the “misting marathon” began. He wasn't leaving the store without the gift he was determined to purchase.
“It wasn’t long until I started to sneeze non-stop, my nose began to run, and I almost got sick from so many smells. Just when I thought I’d have to take a break outside in the fresh air before continuing, the clerk suddenly hit on it!
“That’s it, that’s it! Thank you for your time ma’am.” He smiled at the clerk and sneezed once again as he charged out the door towards his car through an all-out blizzard.
Never once have I asked Dad what possessed him to buy me a gift that year. Realizing my days under his roof were would quickly coming to an end has always been my suspicion.
Roses, teddy bears, and cupids abound each February creating what will one day be fond remembrances. As for me, comical but precious memories of my Valentine’s Day Ambush are revisited in vivid detail! They reside in a special niche of my heart…the one that’s reserved just for my dad!
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