*****
Greeting Cards
Don Bentley
Anya woke and automatically flung her left arm out to Xander's side of the bed. It had been her first action every morning since she had moved in with him. Anya still needed to be reassured that he was still there. That she wasn't alone. That it wasn't a dream.
This morning she was alone.
His side of the bed was empty, the sheets tossed aside, but she could hear him clattering about out in the kitchen and relaxed back into her pillow.
Anya smiled at the familiar sounds and mentally followed her lover's morning routine. His Wile E. Coyote mug on the counter for his morning coffee. Black, four sugars. Xander wasn't a morning person, or much of anything else for that matter, until he had his caffeine and sugar.
This being Sunday, he would soon start their breakfast. Eggs, two over easy for him, one scrambled for her, bacon, toast, coffee, and milk for him, grapefruit juice for her. Then, the dishes left for later, they'd cuddle on the couch and listen to some music, and, well, cuddle some more.
It was easily the highlight of Anya's week.
Rising, she pulled her nightie on over her head and padded barefoot into the kitchen.
Her brow knit together in confusion. Not only was he dressed, rather than still wearing his usual t-shirt and sweats, but he was showered and shaved, and wearing his best suit, the dark charcoal one, with his dark maroon shirt and matching tie. He was beautiful in that suit.
"Ahn. I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"
"No, I mean... no. Xander, what are you doing all dressed up and so clean. It's Sunday. Oh, my God, you've joined a church. Or a cult!"
He leaned over and calmed her with a kiss before shaking his head.
"No, no cult. I'm visiting Joyce this morning. Mother's Day, remember?"
"No, I mean.... yes. We had a lot of New Agers in yesterday, but
I....
Weren't we all supposed to meet later at Giles'?"
"We will, I'll be back before then."
"I'll get dressed and-"
Again he silenced her with a kiss, and a whispered "I love you."
"Ahn. I, I need to go alone for this. Understand?"
"Yes," then, as he closed the door behind him, she added softly to herself. "I mean... no."
*****
Xander was alone as he followed the now familiar path from the gate to....
Joyce Summers
1958-2001
Loving Mother
Xander stood motionless for a moment, his head bowed, as, not for the first time, he tried to remember when he had stopped praying. And why he now wished that he still could.
He knelt down and reverently laid his small bundle of flowers before the stone. There was already a bouquet of flowers on the damp grass. The paper was still dry. Knowing the answer beforehand, he looked for a card. Nothing. Kissing his fingertips he touched them to the first bouquet.
Standing, he pulled a greeting card from his pocket.
"Today of all days, leave the dishes," it said on the outside, the predictable punch line on the inside. "You can always do them tomorrow. Happy Mother's Day."
In his neatest hand writing Xander had added. "I love you, Xander."
He carefully placed it with his flowers, then gently kissed the top of the stone as his eyes filled with tears.
Brushing his tears away he pulled out the second greeting card. It wasn't new, he'd received it for his 19th birthday, and it was an ordinary enough card. The cover read simply "Happy Birthday Son," the inside saying "You make a mother proud."
It was the short paragraph in Joyce's lovely ornate handwriting that made the card special.
"Xander. You are the most loving, the bravest, and the finest young man I've ever known. I could not be any more proud of my own children as I am of you, as I always will be. You are the son I never had, and I thank you for enriching my life and those of my daughters. With a mother's love, Joyce."
The tears came again as he re-read the now memorized words, some of them already stained by errant tears. Xander stood alone in the morning sun and wept freely in front of Joyce's grave.
He was turning into Anya's embrace before her hand even touched his.