Grey Hearts and Flowers

Valentine's Man

"Daddy, how do I be a man like you?" Teddy asks me as I shake pink glitter onto a construction paper heart on my office desk at GEH. I've brought him here so no one sees what we're up to. Ana thinks we're just man-bonding after Teddy's poor mood yesterday, but keeping this a secret from Taylor is like trying to keep the water you just drank a secret from your bladder. Teddy doesn't want anyone to know about his Valentine's crush, so I've sent Taylor out for more drop-offs and pick-ups today than UPS on December the 24th.

"Well," I say, as I mush my fingers into the glue, like Phoebe said, and spread the sparkle around. "I think being a real man is more about your attitude and confidence. The way you present yourself." I lift up my fingers, all covered with sticky glitter. I look like I just performed open heart surgery on Hello Kitty.

"Do you gots to wear itchy clothes to be a man?"

"Sometimes..." The best part of being a man is taking the itchy clothes off, but we'll save that conversation for another decade. Oh, I can't wait to get home tonight for Ana to scratch that wonderful itch.

"I want to be a man like you," he says, putting his own fingers into the glue and squishing.

"You make me so proud, son."

We both smile and squish around for a moment, until satisfied with color and placement. Two men covered in sparkles for love. If Elena could see me now I think she'd have a stroke, die, and come back again to have another stroke, just because the first stroke wasn't enough.

"So you still don't want to tell me who she is?" I ask as we glue on dried macaroni in a decorative pattern. Decorative pattern being wherever there's space for a tube and the glue will hold it and won't scratch the recipient.

He shakes his head. Why is he so secretive about this? I'm trying to go through all the girls in his class in my head, but I can't put my finger on it. I wonder if it's that redhead Caroline or Carolyn? Maybe it's Carol Lynn. Whatever the case, he told me last week he won a playground contest of guessing the freckle count on her face. I'm not sure how they verified the outcome, but someone gave him gum for it.

"What's she look like?" Why is my macaroni sticking to my monkey sticker? Oh well, it kind of looks like he's holding a banana, either that or he's laying pipe. Although from another angle it looks lewd. I better move it. I don't want any monkeys stroking their bananas on this card.

"She's really pretty." The way he says pretty, I know he's got it bad.

"What makes her so pretty?" Although, I know that's a tough one. If someone asked me the same thing, all I could say is she's Ana.

"She's got blonde hair and blue eyes and smells like marshmallows."

"A blonde, huh?" He nods. Well, he didn't take after dear old dad in that department. Who's blonde in that class? Maybe it's that Jennifer girl; the one who always plays Fiddler on the Roof on the clarinet at every talent show because her father was an understudy in a regional tour and tries to relive the glory half-year through his daughter.

"And she's more taller than me," he says. That's interesting. He must be a legs man and he doesn't even know it yet. But, I don't think Jennifer is taller than him. Hmm...

"I think my card looks sorta goofy, Daddy," Teddy says as we finish, lifting the finished product up off the desk.

"I think it's a nice valentine," I say, trying to wipe my hands with a towel and handing it over to him to do the same. We've been at this thing for over an hour—cutting and pasting, glittering and glimmering it up, trying to get it just right. And though I followed Phoebe's instructions to the letter, somehow the letter of my instruction was less alphabetic and more question mark.