Lunch.

He checked. Rechecked. And checked again.
It was Wednesday. The day She would eat lunch with him.
He looked forward to Wednesdays.
They would talk, laugh, sometimes giggle. The time would fly by.
But then, they would have to go back to work.

So he made sure he had some good things to “trade” with her. He knew she liked apples. Grapes too, but only the green ones. The purple ones she said made good wine, but lousy treats. Potato chips were another valuable trade item. He could often wrangle her out of a Reese’s cup, or Peanut butter and cheese cracker for enough chips.

And then there was the “White Chocolate.” He had never heard of such a thing. But it turns out she got some her Easter Basket…and fell in love with it. So once in a while, not often, or it wouldn’t be special enough to be a “treat.” He got some white chocolate for her.

She couldn’t drink milk. He thought that was a horrible. But she could drink any juice. So he made sure he had at least two juice packets piled in with the sandwiches and treats. Wednesdays were the only day he cared about what was in his lunch.

He was ready.

Lunch was wonderful. She surprised him with Oreos…and he didn’t even have to trade for them. She just gave them to him. All four of them. So he whipped out the White Chocolate. She squealed with delight. So much so that everyone around them gave them the stink eye …letting them know to keep it down.

That made them both laugh.

Lunch was over. There wouldn't be many more Wednesdays until they both took a few months off.

That made him smile.

Because next year, he had plans to bring Hot Soup and maybe even cake.

After all, next year is Second Grade…and those big kids had bigger lunch boxes.

He munched his Oreo. She munched on the White chocolate. Under the table, they held hands.