The Becketts, Sam and Wife, at Christmas
He opens his gift. Her eyes glisten and a smile seems to play across her lips. It is his favorite shirt, filched from the laundry last night while he slept.
She opens her gift. The right boot of a pair of galoshes, old, scuffed, apparently much-used, a few tablespoonfuls of sand inside the toe, one buckle dented a bit. "Oh, Sam," she murmurs. "It's almost perfect!" She puts the galosh on the table, places the wine inside, and turns to suggest breakfast.
"I love you, darling," he says. "Whatever that means."