The Perfect Gift

Tim had been losing sleep for weeks, and it was starting to show. The bags under his eyes had deepened into dark crescents, and his hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his tie in the mirror. Three days until the wedding, and he still hadn’t gotten it right.

“You’re overthinking this,” Elena had said the night before, running her fingers through his hair. “I trust you completely. Whatever you choose will be perfect.”

But that was exactly the problem. She trusted him to handle the most important part of their reception, and he was terrified of disappointing her. This wasn’t just any gift; this was the gift, the one everyone would talk about for years.

The first breeder hadn’t understood at all.

“Looking for a family pet?” the woman had asked, leading them through rows of kennels filled with yapping puppies. “These Golden Retriever mixes are wonderful with children.”

Elena had smiled politely but shook her head. “A puppy is not good for us. We need something more substantial. It’s a special wedding gift. Oh, and we won’t be having children; dogs are enough for us.” The breeder nodded.

Tim had observed his fiancée’s face as she examined each dog. She’d pause at certain ones, running her hand along their flanks, commenting on their size and build. “This one’s lovely,” she’d say, or “Oh, look at this one! How athletic! It would probably play fetch for hours.”

The second breeder had been more accommodating. When Tim explained it was a gift that he would present at their wedding reception, something really special, something memorable, the man’s eyes had lit up with understanding.

“Ah, I remember you from church,” he’d said, nodding slowly and smiling. “You’ll want to see our specialty breeds then. I assume you have the budget.” An affirmative nod. “Follow me then.”

Elena had been in her element there, examining the dogs with the focused attention she usually reserved for her work as a designer. She’d asked detailed questions about diet, about exercise routines, about age and weight. The breeder had been helpful, explaining which ones would be best for their particular needs.

“This one,” Elena had said finally, stopping in front of a beautiful Golden Retriever with intelligent eyes and a glossy coat. The dog was substantial but not too large, perfectly proportioned. “This one is magnificent.”

Tim had felt a surge of relief. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

But then, Elena had moved on to examine three others with equal enthusiasm. “Though this one has such beautiful coloring,” she’d murmured, running her hands over a reddish Labrador mix. “And this little fellow; look at those eyes.” She looked at Tim. “Most people don’t even pay attention to the eyes.”

The breeder had watched patiently. “It’s a hard choice, isn’t it? For such an important occasion.”

“The most important,” Elena had agreed. “Everyone will be watching. Everyone will remember.”

And that’s when Tim sagged, having realized he was back where he’d started. She liked too many of them. How was he supposed to choose just one? After all the problems with her family, he felt like he needed a win and thought this would be it.

Now, forty-eight hours before the wedding, he paced alone in their spare bedroom at two in the morning, his phone in his hand. He could call the breeder. He could make the decision himself and hope for the best. Elena had said she trusted him, but what would her parents think if he got it wrong in their eyes?

The next morning, Elena met her maid of honor, Sarah, for coffee while Tim attended to last-minute catering details.

“You seem so calm,” Sarah marveled, watching Elena serenely sip her latte. “I’d be a nervous wreck. Especially with Tim handling the reception. That’s a lot of pressure to put on a groom.”

Elena laughed, a sound like tinkling silver bells. “Tim is incredibly capable. And besides, I helped him with the process. I just don’t know which one he finally chose.”

“Still, what if it’s not right? There are so many things that can go wrong. You know how people talk—”

“Sarah.” Elena’s voice was gentle but firm. “It will be spectacular. Tim understands what’s important to me, what’s important to our families and friends. This reception will be unforgettable.”

Sarah stirred her coffee nervously. “I just mean, it’s such a traditional choice for such a modern couple, and Tim doesn’t have the same cultural background. Are you sure your guests will—”

“They’ll love it,” Elena said, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Trust me. Some traditions exist for a reason.”

The wedding ceremony itself passed in a blur of vows and tears and rice thrown by laughing relatives. Elena looked radiant in her grandmother’s lace, and Tim managed not to trip over his own feet. But even as he slipped the ring onto her finger, his stomach churned with anxiety about what was to come.

The cocktail hour gave him no peace. Guests kept asking about the reception, complimenting him on taking responsibility, wondering what he’d do. “It’s a surprise,” he kept saying, the words feeling more hollow each time he heard himself say them.

Elena moved through the crowd like a queen, accepting congratulations and compliments on her dress, her flowers, her choice of venue. When someone asked, she’d smile mysteriously and say, “Tim has something very special planned. I can’t wait to see what he’s chosen.”

Finally, the moment arrived. The guests took their seats at elegantly appointed tables as the waitstaff prepared for the grand entrance. Tim’s hands were sweating as he watched the kitchen doors, Elena beside him at the head table, glowing with excitement.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the maître d’ announced, “the pièce de résistance of this evening’s celebration!”

The doors swung open, and the waitstaff emerged in a perfectly choreographed procession. At their head, two men carried an enormous silver platter, and on that platter — Elena gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

The Golden Retriever lay perfectly arranged, garnished with roasted vegetables and fresh herbs, an apple nestled between its jaws. The glossy coat gleamed under the chandelier lights, and the presentation was nothing short of magnificent.

“Oh, Tim,” Elena breathed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “It’s the one from the one I loved most. How did you know?”

Tim’s mother screamed and fainted. His father caught her.

The room erupted in applause. Guests stood and cheered, raising their glasses in appreciation of the spectacle before them. Camera flashes went off like tiny fireworks as everyone captured the moment.

Tim’s parents left the room.

“Absolutely magnificent!” called out Elena’s uncle from across the room. “Haven’t seen a presentation like that in years!”

“The coloring is perfect,” added Elena’s aunt. “You can tell it was raised properly.”

Elena turned to her new husband, her face radiant with joy and love. “This is perfect, Tim. Absolutely perfect. I knew you’d understand what this day needed.”

Tim felt the tension drain from his body as he watched his wife’s delight, heard the approval from their families. All those sleepless nights, all that worry had been worth it to see her this happy.

As the carving began and the rich aroma filled the air, Elena leaned over to whisper in his ear: “I love you so much for honoring our traditions. This is going to be a night no one ever forgets. And don’t forget, I get the eyes.”

Around them, their families and friends continued to celebrate, praising the choice, the preparation, the beautiful presentation. Children clapped excitedly from their tables, and the elderly relatives nodded approvingly at this proper observance of custom.

Tim finally allowed himself to relax, pulling Elena close as their guests enjoyed the feast he’d so carefully arranged. She was right; this would be a night no one would ever forget. And seeing her happiness, feeling the warm approval of everyone they loved, he knew with certainty that he’d chosen well. He would deal with his parents’ inability to appreciate tradition later.

After all, what was a wedding without honoring the old ways?