Faris tiptoed to the back of his car. He tucked the yellow balloon into the trunk and gave it a little pat.
He peeked around corners, hiding a gift bag under a blanket. He tucked a folded note under a box of tissues near the driver's seat.
Faris stepped back and waited in the dark by the hood. A cricket chirped. He counted to three, then five, then ten.
He pressed his ear to the cold metal of the hood. 'Ready?' he whispered to no one.
The trunk popped open. The yellow balloon floated up and bonked him right on the nose. He blinked.
The gift bag slipped and spilled soft pink tissue paper everywhere. It covered his shoes. It covered his knees.
Faris stood up and turned on the porch light. Her face appeared in the window.
She walked slowly to the car and looked down at the trunk. 'What is all this?' she said.
Faris smiled and held out the balloon. 'It's for you,' he said.
The car sat on the quiet street, trunk open, gifts waiting. Everything was exactly as he had planned.
