His voice shaking. “I never meant for you to find out like this. It’s… it’s for your birthday.”

I blinked hard. “What does that have to do with a knife, gloves, and powder in our air vent?”

He sighed deeply. “I’ve been planning something for you. I rented a part of the neighbor’s garden to grow 101 roses for your birthday.”

“The knife is for pruning,” he explained, “the gloves for handling the plants, and the powder is a special fertilizer I’ve been using to make sure they grow just right.”

I burst into tears, caught between laughing and crying. “I thought you were doing something criminal! I was ready to divorce you!”

Roger pulled me into his arms, and I could feel him shaking with suppressed laughter.

“Only you would jump to that conclusion, Ruth. Only you.”

“Well, what was I supposed to think?” I mumbled into his chest. “You were being so weird about it! And who hides things in an air vent? That’s, like, serial killer behavior!”

We spent the rest of the evening talking about how stress and poor communication had led to this ridiculous situation.

I fell asleep that night with a smile on my face, looking forward to my birthday with a level of anticipation I hadn’t felt since I was a child.