The gas was lit when Emmy Lou came in. Uncle Charlie was there, and the aunties, sitting around, reading.
“I got a valentine,” said Emmy Lou.
They all looked up. They had forgotten it was Valentine’s Day, and it came to them that if Emmy Lou’s mother had not gone away, never to come back, the year before, Valentine’s Day would not have been forgotten. Aunt Cordelia smoothed the black dress she was wearing because of the mother who would never come back, and looked troubled.
But Emmy Lou laid the blue and gold valentine on Aunt Cordelia’s knee. In the valentine’s centre were two hands clasping. Emmy Lou’s forefinger pointed to the words beneath the clasped hands.
“I can read it,” said Emmy Lou.
They listened. Uncle Charlie put down his paper. Aunt Louise looked over Aunt Cordelia’s shoulder.
“B,” said Emmy Lou, “e—Be.”
The aunties nodded.
“M,” said Emmy Lou, “y—my.”
Emmy Lou did not hesitate. “V,” said Emmy Lou, “a, l, e, n, t, i, n, e—Valentine. Be my Valentine.”