Coffee percolating. A cat munching on dry food. Clean dishes in a rack. Christmas lights on houses in February. 

He goes outside to start the truck. Notices ice on the porch and walkway. Pours salt on it. Shakes the salt bag. Reaches in with a dry hand and tosses the rocks. It’s too dark to see if it’s working.

The truck is covered with frost. He reaches in the backseat and grabs a scraper, and begins moving the tool on the windshield. Exhaust pours out of the tailpipe.

His wife watches from the kitchen window. She sees her husband of twenty-five years marching towards the house. She knocks on the window.

Be careful, she yells. Be careful walking up the steps. He nods and waves his hand at her. Grab onto the rail, she tells him through the frozen glass. Again, he nods and waves his hand. The backdoor is opened. She cracks the screen door. Come on in here, she says. Come on inside. A cup of hot coffee is in her hand.

Thank you, he says, and sips the drink. You know what would go well with this?

Let me guess. Bailey’s.

Now you’re talking, he walks inside.

Make sure you take your boots off.  She warns him. Don’t want snow on the floors.

Yes, ma’am.

He places the coffee on a stool and pulls his boots off. His socks are wet. He takes those off, too. Time for new boots, he says.

You just got those.

No. You’re thinking of the other pair, he tells her as he walks barefoot across the hardwood, sips his coffee, and wipes his nose on his sleeve.

I’m confused.

You’re always confused, he says. The two of them laugh. The old man gives her a kiss on the cheek. She smiles and gets down the bottle of Irish cream from the middle shelf.

Tommy and Jean are coming over tonight.

Darn it, he says. I just want to be alone tonight.

We we can’t cancel. We set this up months ago. I’m making a meatloaf.

It’s Valentine’s, he says. I wanted to be alone with you.

Just another Hallmark holiday. She pours the Bailey’s in the coffee cups. Besides. It’s not like it’s St. Patrick’s or something important.

Right. Spring is just around the corner. Lent will be here soon.

What are you giving up this year? She asks.

Not sure yet. Maybe red meat.

Ooooo. That’s a good one.

Yeah. I think so. He stands at the table and pulls the chair out for her.

Thank you.

He winks at her. You bet.

They drink in silence. Finish their coffee. And kiss each other goodbye.

Be careful out there, she yells.

He waves goodbye and pulls out of the driveway. 

She watches as he drives down the road. One tail light burned out.