Before my second husband and I had been dating for several months, and his birthday was coming up. Being fairly newly single with three kids and transitioning between jobs, he made me swear not to spend any money on his birthday. He told me birthdays were not important, and he’d never had a birthday gift he really liked, so he asked me to write him a poem or story, because no matter what that would be the best birthday gift he had ever been given.

His birthday was after Valentine’s Day, and so I started preparing for a birthday surprise that I didn’t spend money on. I advertised my Valentine’s truffles (I used to make them every Christmas, Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, as a way to make extra money.) as for sale or for barter, and listed some of the things I wanted to barter for. I also put up a different ad, focused only on bartering my different skills or items I had, in exchange for a series of gifts that I could give him through out the day.

I was fortunate that year not only to sell more truffles than most years, but a lot of people who read the barter ad were also interested in bartering. Through a lot of hard work and careful planning, I was able to make it so that he never went more than 2 hours during the day without a special surprise, and none of it cost me anything.

I had a key to his apartment, so I snuck in and made waffles, eggs and bacon for breakfast and let the smell wake him up. I have him a hand made birthday card, with both a poem and story as he requested. I then asked if I could borrow his truck to pick up a set of bunk beds someone in the ward was giving me. He had me drop him off at work. I went back to his apartment and laid out 4 brand new shirts that I had found in his size (shirts that he likes and that are made for someone as “large and tall” as he was took a lot anytime. I had been lucky enough to find them on clearance, and the gift card I had bartered for 3 dozen truffles covered their cost with $1.02 left over on the gift card.) I knew he was coming home at lunch time to change, since he was doing an installation in the afternoon, but had gone to work in a suit and tie for a sales proposal first thing that morning.

I had called the secretary of the head of the company where he and the head sales guy were giving the presentation, and she would hand him a wrapped package when the meeting was over. As a part-owner of the company, he chose out the employee of the quarter nominations and winners. On our first date he joked about every time he gave one out, that he was a little jealous that there wasn’t a chance to earn an award. I had bartered 10 home made freezer casseroles with the owner of a gift and engraving store in town. (He furnished the ingredients, and I cooked everything in his kitchen in about 6 hours.) So, as he left the meeting, he had a box, which contained a silver played business card holder, inscribed with, Boss of the Year, and with a business card sized note from each of his employees sharing what they valued most as a boss. His partners even wrote notes telling him what he had done well and/or they admired him for.

His sales guy drove him by the apartment, to let him change, and he found his bed covered with the shirts and cut out paper hearts. He texted me and accused me of breaking the rule regarding me spending no money. I just texted back: I am following the rule, I just got a little creative with bartering. He confirmed I would pick him up from the install site at 6:00 pm, and then I told him I really did need to get to work. (It was actually a day I had off. I switched with another manager who had needed a Saturday off in January so I would have enough time to get things done.)

About 4:00 pm, a huge bouquet of red and white roses was delivered to the place he was doing the installation. I had traded ten, half dozen truffle boxes with the florist, which she sold as a Valentine’s Day special. She ended up ordering 25 more to sell, that she paid for, after she tasted the sample box I brought to let her choose the flavors for the truffle boxes. She personally did the delivery so she could report back to me. She said that first he was stunned and then got misty eyed. The note simply said, “Now you can’t say that no one has ever cared enough to send you roses.”

In the meantime, I had picked up the other flowers I had bartered for with a local nursery that grows hothouse flowers, so that I could have perfect, fresh daisies for the table at dinner that night. (The owner loved having 16 boxes of four truffles to give to his employees to take to their wives on Valentine’s Day. He assured me that the two potted trees would be delivered and by the doorway to the apartment between 7:00 and 8:00, so they would appear after we left for dinner and before we came back.

All day I had been running around in my car while his truck was being meticulously detailed by a man I had bartered to help his son study for the ACT. He had not done well the first time, and so four times before the birthday and three times after, we did two hour study sessions to help him bring up his score. His dad was so thrilled when his son drastically improved his score, enough to qualify for a scholarship, that he detailed my car, and have me several gently used items that his son had grown out of. My son still has the leather jacket, even though it doesn’t fit him anymore, and I think it may be about time for another boy to feel extra cool, and stay warm, in the jacket.

At 6:00 pm, I picked him up, along with the roses, which were much prettier than I expected. 44 long stem roses is actually quite a few long stem roses. As he first saw the beautiful wax job, he was impressed and thanked me for washing the truck, since he hadn’t had the chance after the last snow storm. When he saw how meticulously detailed the inside was, he was at a loss for words, literally. We went and got changed for dinner and then headed out to one of the nicest restaurants in town. When we got there he sternly told me that he was paying for dinner because I had already done way more than anyone had ever done for his birthday. I told him he could pay whatever bill came, and ordered steak and lobster right along with him.

One of the restaurant owners had seen my ad, and asked if I would be willing to make 25 boxes of four truffles each. I got to go with him on Valentine’s Day to deliver them to two shelters for battered women. When I realized how many teenage girls were there too, I asked him if we could give all 25 to that shelter, so those girls got a Valentine. We then went back to my apartment where he helped me box up 25 more sets of truffles so we could take them to the other shelter. (Luckily I had decided to make an extra quadruple batch, about 400 truffles, at the last minute, in case I got order on the day of Valentines. 100 of those extras went to the women’s shelter, 100 more went to single mothers in our ward, and the other 200 just seemed to find homes throughout the day. When I went to bed on the 14th, I don’t think I had more than 20 extras left.)

When we were done with dessert, I pulled out the florist’s card that went with the daisies on our table. (He had noticed ours was the only one without roses.) when the waiter brought the “check,” instead there was a gift certificate for another “dinner date for two.” The note from the owner explained that since I had doubled what our original barter was, without asking for anything in return, he had talked to the other owner and they agreed that doubling the barter on their end was the right thing to do. Underneath the gift certificate were two tickets to a play the next month, a $100 gift card for me to a very nice dress shop that was less than a block away, and a gift certificate for a haircut, wash and style at *the place* to get your hair done, which I never could have afforded. Apparently all of those business owners were supporters of the shelter, and hearing about the truffles, and that I had bartered them to give my boyfriend a special birthday, they all wanted to pitch something in for me too. (I hadn’t thought of the extra truffles as part of our barter, since it had been my idea to make sure the girls, mostly 11-14ish got something along with their moms. I wouldn’t have considered the barter fair to the business owners if it had been discussed as a barter before or during the deliveries.)

When we got back to his apartment, the potted trees were on both sides of the front door, and all 44 cards, each containing something I loved or admired about him, were tied on with the grey and yellow ribbon. The colors were a reference to the book Hope for the Flowers, which had come to be part of how we thought about our “second chance” together. Once we were in the house, with all the cards plucked off the trees, he told me to sit down, and start explaining how I had done everything that day, if I had been following the rules.

I reminded him that I had known about the rules since New Year’s Eve, when he had first made them up, and that have me plenty of time to barter for all of his gifts. I didn’t consider purchasing truffle ingredients, truffle boxes or gasoline, as spending money, since I would have been buying them regardless of the truffles being sold or bartered. I reminded him that he had helped me on the 13th with getting that last “extra batch” of truffles done, by helping to box up the truffles that were ready to go.

He made me go through each part of the day, including what I had bartered for it, and how I had pulled each one off. He kept asking how I had gotten every employee, including his partners to be in on it, but also keep the secret. The more I explained, the more I worried that the surprise and magic of the day was being lost. He was getting quieter, and while still asking questions, his smile was gone.

When we got to the trees and their 44 slips of paper, he asked me to read them to him, so he could close his eyes and just listen to my voice. About the 12th, tears started rolling down his cheeks. By the time I was quiet, he sobbed, pulled me close and held me for 15-20 minutes, not saying anything. Finally he opened his eyes, lightly pinched both of us, and then thanked me for the best day he ever had. He told me he felt more loved and cared for in one day, than he had in the last 10 years combined. That brought years to my eyes, gratitude that I could show this wonderful man his true worth.

Our marriage did not last, but that day still occasionally comes up in conversation. While we were married he would say it was the best day after the day we got married, and then eventually he put the birth of our daughter on the top of the list. Our wedding is off his list of best days, (at least I assume it is) but he still talks about that birthday as the second best after our daughter. It is always interesting to me that it made that big of an impact, enough that even several years after our divorce, he has told it to people for the first time. (So interesting to hear back from people who don’t realize I am the girlfriend who created that birthday, tell me about what happened that day.) I am glad that he still has a memory find enough to share. I hope that means that as our daughter gets older, and time mellows some of the pain, that we will be able to share, together, some of our happier memories with our daughter.

(It looks like on e again I have managed to make my comment longer than the post. Lol )