2014 Prompt Responses - 27. Prompt 336

“Oh God. This isn’t what it looks like!” I dropped the end of the worn, green recliner in surprise. Anthony stood in our front doorway, glaring at me.

“Why are you home so early, sweetheart?” I asked.

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me! What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m just moving it, babe, I swear!”

“Yeah, right. Moving it to the trash!” He sneezed and then blew his nose noisily. “I guess it’s a good thing I caught this damn cold.”

He brushed past me and tried to maneuver the chair back to its former position.

“Hun…”

He ignored me.

“Hun…”

“Don’t just stand there… give me a hand!”

“Would you please stop so I can explain?”

“Explain what? How much you’ve always hated this chair? I already know that!”

That damn chair had been a bone of contention between us ever since we bought the house two years ago. Having it in his apartment was one thing… having it in our living room among our beautiful brand-new furniture was another.

The chair in question had belonged to Anthony’s grandfather. It was the old man’s favorite chair and Anthony had many fond memories of sitting at the foot of the chair while his grandfather read to him, or being comforted in his arms when he was tired and cranky or had scraped his knee. It was also where his grandfather sat during numerous long talks or games of ‘Scrabble’. That chair was the only thing from his grandfather’s estate that Anthony insisted on having.

I secretly admired his devotion to his grandfather, but man was that chair ugly!

“C’mon, Ant. Put the chair down and come to bed. You look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks, hun. Stab me in the back and then insult me. Nice.” He coughed and groaned.

“I’m not throwing it out. Do you really think I’d do that to you?”

He narrowed his eyes at me and sneezed. I reached for his arm. “C’mon. Let’s get you some medicine and into bed.”

“If you throw that chair out, I’m leaving you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I already told you it’s not what it looks like.”

Anthony settled into bed as I handed him the NyQuil. He fell asleep almost immediately. I sighed and shook my head. Of all the days he had to come home early!

Two years ago we moved into a four bedroom, two bath colonial house in the suburbs. It was a lot more space than the two of us needed, but we got a heck of a deal and couldn’t pass it up. We set up one of the extra rooms as a spare room for guests and one as a make-shift gym. The third we were using for storage. Anthony wanted to turn it into a home office, but we hadn’t been able to find the time or money to do so.

About a month ago, I received an unexpected bonus at work and didn’t tell Anthony. I met with a contractor and developed a plan for a home office/man cave anyone would be jealous of. The room was a decent size, almost as big as our master bedroom. It faced our backyard and I had the smaller windows replaced with a big bay window. I planned on hanging a bird feeder in front of it since Ant loved watching birds in our garden. I had a gas fireplace installed at the far end of the room with recessed bookshelves on either side and a large-screen TV above the mantle. On the opposite end of the room were more built-in bookcases behind a large oak desk and brand-new desktop computer.

The contractors had completed the finishing touches today, and all that remained was the little things, like putting Ant’s books on the shelves and the framed picture of him sitting on his grandpa’s lap in that chair as he read to him on his desk. The final touch was moving the chair in between the fireplace and the bay window. I stood back, surveying the results. It was stunning.

“Patrick!” Anthony yelled, followed by wracking coughs. I cringed.

“Patrick, where the fuck are you? I meant it when I said –“ he stopped abruptly as I stepped out of the room and closed the door.

“Does that chair really mean that much more to you than I do?” I asked softly.

He exhaled slowly, struggling not to cough. “Of course not, but it really hurts knowing that you value something that’s so precious to me so little.”

“Wow. Is that really what you think?” I wiped my eyes and then opened the door. “I know exactly how special that chair is to you. Which is why I made it the central focus of your new den. I planned the colors around it and everything. I told you it wasn’t what it looked like. Happy Anniversary, Anthony.” I turned away so he wouldn’t see me crying.

He grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, crushing me in a giant bear hug. I could feel his body shaking with silent sobs. I was shocked. My stoic partner never cried. He took my face in both his hands and looked deep into my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Patrick. I should have known better. I love it and I love you so much. Forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” I said and then kissed him deeply.