A Dinner Afare was fabulous. Gourmet kitchen – simple instructions, lots of anticipation. The meals I’d selected were sure to please the kids and were interesting enough to break up what had become our routine.
The thing I liked best was that I’d get to try some new dishes with some pretty obscure ingredients without having to invest in an entire tub of Chinese Plums for the roast or without having to scramble to make the tuna steak recipe before my fresh cilantro became not so fresh.
And the wine and the company were of course quite good also.
I rave to Scott all about it that night on the phone when I get home, and although I was dying to make him one of my fancy new meals, he insisted that he keep his promise and drive 90 miles toward the setting sun to walk to our pub holding my hand, and enjoy dinner together.
We order beers. (I’ve had enough wine this week, thank you.)
We order our favorites.
Our waitress remembers us and calls us “lovebirds.”
My phone begins to buzz.
Once I’ve returned from the loo where I’ve done a juggling act trying to remove and rinse and stow my Invisalign plates with out anything touching anything in the public domain (eeeewww!) I open my purse to read a text from Charlotte.
“You are coming to CAbi, aren’t you?”
Of course. Has she gone mad?
I text back. “Yes, of course.”
And then “Can’t wait!”
Scott and I hold hands across the table and wait for our food. I can hear my phone buzzing.
I am reminded of J. and his incessant phone nagging and refuse to acknowledge. Scott drove 90 miles after work. I owe him the benefit of my full attention.
He leaves to go to the men’s room eventually and I peek at my phone.
Charlotte.
When?
“After work. Was my earlier message not clear?” I was baffled. I’d told her I’d be changing at work and coming to her house immediately after work tomorrow to help her set up. Have a warm up drink. And in the mean time, seeing Scott for dinner tonight.
And then I am alarmed.
I text again. “It is tomorrow isn’t it?”
She replies. “It’s right now!”
And then, “I just read your earlier text…”
Uh-oh.
Dinner has just arrived. And I am supposed to be at Charlotte’s.
I explain to Scott as my phone continues to heat up the interior of my purse that I have made a grave mistake. He says I should go. I hate to leave him for even a minute. He’s been in the car for hours. I am torn.
We're eating. I am fretting. Kate’s calling. Joy’s calling. Then Charlotte texts.
“Bring Scott. We have tons of food.”
I show it to him and like a sport, he pays the check and we head out to Charlotte’s while I text “Idiot sister and handsome boyfriend on the way.”
More wine and lots of shopping later, Scott has made fast friends with my two teenaged nephews while all the girls cluck about in various articles of clothing with tags attached and inspect each other’s choices. I’ve gotten a jumpstart on a Spring wardrobe and Scott has gotten a full report on my escapades from the boys’ point of view. They were not exactly kind about J.
And I don’t exactly care. I have the sweetest guy in the world holding my hand and forgiving me my space cadet planning SNAFU. All is right with the world.
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