Great expectations

Trifecta:  Week Seventy-three

color (noun)
1a : a phenomenon of light (as red, brown, pink, or gray) or visual perception that enables one to differentiate otherwise identical objects
  b (1) : the aspect of the appearance of objects and light sources that may be described in terms of hue, lightness, and saturation for objects and hue, brightness, and saturation for light sources

     (2) : a color other than and as contrasted with black, white, or gray
2a : an outward often deceptive show : appearance
  b : a legal claim to or appearance of a right, authority, or office
  c : a pretense offered as justification : pretext
  d : an appearance of authenticity : plausibility
3: complexion tint:

  a : the tint characteristic of good health

  b : blush

I don’t think my feet touched the floor that entire day.  I know I didn't actually levitate, but it would have taken a lot to convince me that I was actually earthbound, because I felt like I was floating.  There was a smile plastered on my face you couldn't have scraped off with a hammer and a chisel.  It felt like my insides were going to just burst through my abdomen from the excitement and anticipation.

I knew I had to do something special for him, so I drove to the store and bought all of the ingredients for his favorite meal.  Cooking would keep me busy; cooking would keep me focused and stop me from bouncing around the house like a rubber ball on speed.  He’d be home at 5:30.  I just had to hold on until then.

Hours felt like aeons as I chopped and sauteed and boiled and baked.  It was a veritable feast, and a total departure from my cooking habits of late.  Surely, a meal like this would give my secret away before I was ready.  But it was too late to stop now.  I knew he would be thrilled to see a cheesecake chilling in the refrigerator.  And the smell of chicken wafting through the house was divine; it would grab him the moment he walked through the door.

Finally, I heard the front door open.  He came into the kitchen, and I turned to greet him.  I probably looked like a madwoman--hair wild and curly from the steam, face flushed, color in my cheeks from the heat and my excitement, a Mona Lisa smile on my face and tears in my eyes.

Before I ever said a word, he knew.  “Yes?” he asked.  “Yes,” I whispered, tears now rolling freely down my cheeks.