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I raise an eyebrow. “What’d you get me? Glass pennies?”
“Haha. Ass.”
I grin. Been way too long since I’ve heard her tease me. I untie the twine around the box and lift off the lid. Inside is a tiny sailor figurine with a matching dog figurine, both kicking out their legs. “Are these–”
“Sailor Jack and Mac!” Dana exclaims. “From the Crackerjack box.”
“Where did you find these?” I ask, lifting the little figures up and examining them. They’re not very detailed, but it’s only because they’resoold.
“Etsy,” she smiles. “You like them?”
“Like? Love, you know how much I love Crackerjack,” I say.
Dana laughs. “You’re the only person I know who still buys Crackerjack at the ballpark.”
“I love these. They’ll go on my desk at the office.” Though my workplace is a little unconventional, it still has all the things an office is supposed to have. My entire top shelf is manuals mixed with meaningful trinkets. “They’ll look great next to my Dodgers Pez dispenser.”
When Dana is extremely happy, her shoulders tighten, her chest swells, and she clasps her hands together at her waist. Not to mention the smile on her face, so big, but resisting being toothy. “When I saw them, I knew you had to have them.”
I want to lean over and kiss her, that’s how much I like the gift. No, actually, that’s just how much I like her. “Well, since we’re starting with gifts…”
“Oh, stop that–“ Dana flips open the top of the picnic basket. “Let’s eat first.”
* * *
I thinkabout the gift at the bottom of the basket the entire time we’re eating. I keep trying to give it to her, but she stops me at every turn.
“Not until I’mfull.”
And boy, can this girl eat. She’s always had the appetite of a competitive eater, but even this is impressive. It’s like she’s forcing me to wait, be patient.
However, if the last month has taught me anything, I would wait a long time for Dana. A lifetime even.
She polishes off a chocolate covered strawberry, the red juice dripping over her lips, making them even redder than before.
She’s making this so difficult.
“Mm-mm-mm…” Dana says, smiling. “That was amazing.”
“I made it myself.”
She slaps my arm with the back of her hand. “Liar. You can barely boil water.”
I laugh. I grab the delicate, long box out of the basket. “Present time.”
She rolls her eyes. “I told you not to–”
“You have toknowat this point I’m always going to bring a gift,” I say, rolling my eyes.
Dana blushes. “I know. You’re so thoughtful.”
My heart flutters. “Okay, here. Open.”
Dana takes the box, unwraps it messily. That’s one thing I love about her. She’s so put together, so mature, has her eyes on everything. And then these funny little habits like being unable to unwrap something, even an envelope, without tearing it apart.
I’ve got it bad for her. Really, really bad.
“This better not be jewelry,” she says, eyeing me when she realizes it is, indeed, a black bracelet box.
