It’s just past eight and I’m feeling young and reckless. The ribbon on my wrist says, “Do not open before Christmas.” I call up Rosie and make it short because she can hardly hear over the noise of the party.

“See you at midnight, my love,” I call into the phone and then flip it closed. I’m dying to get away from the family and friends that really began to get on my nerves after the first five hours.

“I’ll be back soon!” I yell as I slam the door on the raucous group inside.

“Come on, honey,” I whisper to the car, revving the engine until she purrs. “That’s my girl.”

The drive passes blindly. I arrive at the pond at quarter to twelve. I can see my breath in the air as I wait for Rosie. At one minute to midnight I can see Rosie’s slender form walking briskly across the street. Running towards her with my lack of self control, I swing her around and hold her in my arms. Backing away, I show her my hand. She unties the ribbon and pulls her hair back with it.

“I couldn’t ask for a better present.”