Aria abruptly became aware of the opportunity to have something special, inherent in his jest. “Actually, I’d love it if you’d pick one for me,” she said, staring up at him, the open bid for his affection now in plain sight between them.

“You sure?” he said, assessing her level of certainty and getting up from his seat before she answered, “Yeah.”

Robert picked through the wooden figures, occasionally stopping to scrutinize one of them, and muttering little sounds to himself as he did it. Eventually, he handed her a little carving of a beaver that he had made out of black walnut wood.

Aria ran her fingers up and down against the texture of its ligneous fur. She didn’t immediately understand why he had chosen a beaver for her. It seemed a strange pick to Aria. It was not an animal that she had a relationship to already, nor was it an animal that she felt any personal connection to.

Robert maneuvered himself stiffly back to his station and resumed whittling. To Aria’s relief, he began to explain himself. “The most important thing to the beaver is his home. It seems to me that home just might be the one thing you spent your life wishin’ for, am I right?” He didn’t wait for her to say anything because he already knew the answer.

“Home doesn’t come easy to the beaver, though. He’s gotta put hard work into it and interrupt the flow of nature around ’im to do it. But in the end, because he’s determined to do it, he builds himself a home and then he gets his lady friends to move on in and has himself a family.”

Robert chuckled, turning the rather serious weight of his sentiment into humor.

Aria was frozen to the spot. Her eyes began to well up with tears. She had to intentionally think about something entirely different than where she was in order to prevent it from showing. She knew that this was Robert’s way of conveying what he wished for her future. It was his version of encouragement.

In that second, this little beaver became the most special thing that she had in her possession. It carried with it the meaning that he had ascribed to it. It carried with it her own deepest desire, which Robert had perceived without her ever saying it. And it also carried with it the quiet, internal caring that Robert felt for her. That care might never be overtly demonstrated, but because of this little interaction, they both knew it was there.

Aria got up off her knees, holding the sudden treasure in her hand, and kissed him on his cheek. “Thank you so much for this,” she said.

Robert was surprised to be kissed, but smiled back as she got up to go and said, “Well, you’re very welcome,” before returning his focus back to whittling.