Valentine's is one of those holidays that's either great or lousy with no in-between. Don's always out with some girl, buying her flowers, singing her songs. One time I went along with him, helping him serenade what's-her-name in East Hickville, Louisiana. After the show we went over there, him with roses and champagne and me with a violin. Didn't get very far, that day -- her dad had a shotgun and that beat roses and violins hands down.
So there we were in the middle of nowhere with everything anyone needs to have a romantic evening, with only each other. I put the violin away and he handed me the roses. After a while, I handed him the roses and he gave me the champagne. We didn't get back to the hotel that night, what with champagne and a warm night. I woke up in the morning with rose petals stuck to my skin, Don's arm around my waist, and a hell of a hangover. We just got up, got out of the woods, and kept walking. It wasn't the first time he'd missed his mark with a girl and ended up in my arms.
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