You can blame this title on too many Brit Box cozy murder mysteries. But I digress.

As a member of The Worst Club Ever, I do not relish the advent of Valentine’s Day. I’m sure many of you share this sentiment. For three years I have ignored it completely, but I used to be a hard core celebrant. When the kids were younger, I trotted out the Valentines decor box and did it up big. It was always a time for family rather than romance.

This started when Traci was in second grade and decided we needed a Valentine’s party (stop me if I’ve told you this story, which I’m pretty sure I have.) So we made one with the help of willing grandparents and a couple of aunts and uncles, who were unexplainably available.

Over the years, the decorations multiplied and indeed there is now a boxful.

So, once again I was destined, nay doomed, to be ALONE on Valentine’s. I capitalize it because that is the way Molly says I say it, rather like Greta Garbo, in her thyroid-graveled voice, or maybe that’s just me.

Anyway, the Wageners invited me to dinner. No, I don’t care if it was out of pity, I was just glad to go.

And I developed a plan. I dug out the box. It lives in the Easter decorations closet. No judging. I also have a Thanksgiving closet, an odd box of St. Patrick’s Day and a tub of Fourth of July. I love holidays.

I was to arrive at the Wageners at 6:30 about the time Molly would leave to pick up Wren at dance and Beau would go pick up our Mexican dinner.

Lyla and I would have about 15 minutes to create a surprise party. It was perfect.

I packed a bag with a red tablecloth, decorations, plates, napkins, cups, everything to set a festive table. Plus the oh-so-cute gifts I had created for the girls from the $1 aisle at Target, which is now a $3 and $5 aisle also. Inflation!

I got to their house. Molly left. Beau left. Lyla and I set about our work. She was very excited to be part of the surprise. It always helps to get the kids in cahoots.

When they returned, Wren was greeted with a big honeycomb heart on the front door. She and the parents were very surprised as we knew they would be. And the girls loved their kaboodles.

We enjoyed our lovely dinner, and were regaled by recitals of all the dances Lyla and Wren are learning. It reminded me very much of all the “recitals” I have witnessed since five-year-old Traci danced on the fireplace hearth.

It also reminded me that celebrating Valentine’s Day doesn’t require a sweetheart; it doesn’t even require a dinner invitation (although I loved going to the Wagener’s.) All it really requires is a happy, celebratory heart, full of gratitude for the people around you who love you, and whom you love.

And maybe a glass of wine, some chocolate, and a cozy murder mystery.

Some things know no season.