“Are you comfortable, dear?” Barbara asked, setting down the basket. William smiled at her. “I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t fuss over me, especially today.”

            “Force of habit,” she responded, sitting down beside him on the grass, “Besides, you look so pale.”

            “Winter has a tendency to do that, colitis or no,” William answered, leaning forward and kissing her cheek, “That’s part of the reason we’re out here today, is it not?”

            She smiled, looking down at the festivities taking place at the bottom of the hill. “It is indeed.”

            It had been a tradition of hers ever since she was old enough to understand the concept of Spring. Every year, her father had taken her to watch the rising of the maypole. He’d even allowed her to dance around it a time or two. Even after he died, she continued to find the nearest May Day celebration, just to feel close to him again. And now that she was married, she felt it was time to get her new family involved in the old ways. Fortunately, William loved the outdoors as much as she, so convincing him had taken no time at all.

            “Oh look!” she said, taking William’s arm and pointing, “They’re raising the pole!”

            Even though William had surely seen much more beautiful things in his lifetime, he still gasped in surprise and pleasure as the pole landed firmly in place, colored ribbons floating merrily downward to the waiting girls. Barbara leaned against him, gratified when he put his arm around her; this had been a marvelous idea. They stayed like that for a minute, watching the girls take up the ribbons and the musicians tune their instruments. Then, as the dancing started, William leaned forward to get a better view, while Barbara set to work unfolding the cloth and laying out the food. It was all well and good for them to sit on the grass, but food covered in dirt was not on her agenda for the day.

            Bread, cheese, wine, the last of the canned fruit…fairly simple, to be sure, but it seemed appropriate for a day like today. Barbara set everything out just so, spending a few minutes struggling with the cork in the wine bottle. Once it finally opened with a satisfying pop, she set to work pouring, ready to toast the onset of spring.

            William’s breath caught again, but there was something off about the sound this time. Before Barbara could turn to look at him, she heard a strangled “Kshh!” After a moment, she realized that William had just sneezed. “Bless you, dear.” she said affectionately, which William acknowledged with a nod, already removing a handkerchief from his pocket. When he looked over at her again, she handed him a wineglass. “To Spring?”

            He was about to raise his glass when he suddenly raised a hand and turned away. “Hishh! Chh!”

            “Bless you!” Barbara was startled; she’d never seen William sneeze this much before. He sniffed softly. “I’m sorry.”

            “It’s not your fault. But what’s causing it? Is it the grass? Spring does tend to mean the onset of hayfever, after all.”

            He laughed a little. “No, no, not at all. I’ve never suffered from hayfever. If I did, my life would be a lot more miserable.”

            “Then what…bless you,” Barbara said, pausing as William sneezed again, “Then what is it?”

            William looked around for a moment, a bit of a blush coming to his cheek. “I’ve never told anyone about this…”

            Barbara leaned forward. She had never been one for idle gossip, but if her husband had some sort of dark secret, especially one that pertained to his health, she was damn well going to find out about it.

            William sighed, shook his head, dabbed at his nose with his handkerchief. Then he whispered into her ear. “Cheese makes me sneeze!”

            Barbara blinked for a moment. Then she put a hand to her face and fell backwards into the grass, laughing in spite of herself. “That’s it? That’s the big secret you’ve never told anyone?”

            “Well, would you want to mention it in polite company?” William asked, although he also sounded deeply amused, “No one would believe it.”

            Barbara rolled over to look at him. “So what is it about cheese? Can you not eat it, or…”

            “Oh, I can eat it just fine,” William said, setting down his wineglass and picking up the offending curd, “It’s just that some cheeses give off a rather pungent odor, and for some reason, it sets me off. Observe.”

            He lifted the cheese to his face and inhaled theatrically. Barbara put a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. William quickly set the cheese back down and put his handkerchief back to his nose. “Heh…Het-shh! Achh! Eh-gstt!”

            Barbara knew she shouldn’t laugh, but the situation was so ridiculous that she couldn’t help herself. William, still in the midst of sneezing, didn’t seem to notice. She put a hand on his back. “Bless…” He waved a hand, indicating that he wasn’t finished, and she sat back to wait.

            After about twelve sneezes, William sniffed wetly and dabbed at his nose. “Ah, what an unfortunate affliction this is. I’m afraid I risk being the laughingstock of society if this gets out.”

            Barbara laughed again, poking her husband in the ribs. “Do you always have to be so dramatic?”

            “One of the hazards of being a member of Parliament, my dear,” William said airily, picking up his wineglass again, “You should have expected this when you married me.”

            She took the wineglass away from him and kissed him. “Not only did I expect it, I married you because of it.”

            “And that attitude, my love, is why I married you.”

           Barbara gave him back the wineglass, and they clinked glasses. Barbara leaned against him again as they turned to watch the May Day festivities, pausing only to move the cheese as far away from William as possible.