Ever so often, the boss and his wife will invite us out to dinner. It has become an annual affair and both my husband and myself embrace the opportunity to get together on a social level with these folks. We enjoy the conversation, the food and the company.
Yesterday was the big dinner date. Since my husband and I don’t “get out” that much, we began getting ready two hours ahead of schedule. Then, we settled into the couch and looked at each other, sharing our version of an appetizer of conversation.
“You think it’s too early to go over to their house?” My husband asked as he adjusted his tie for the umpteenth time.
“I don’t know, what time is it now? Five o’clock? What time did they say the reservation was for?”
He stood and paced the living room, checking the time and finally admitting that he wasn’t sure about the reservation, “Maybe I should call them. You want to call them?”
Since we just refinanced the home on Friday and the phone is on his half of the house, I told him, “You call them.”
After he hung up, he returned to the living room, “Dinner is at seven.”
“What time is it now?”
We left shortly thereafter and took the leisurely route to their home. Thankfully, they were dressed when we arrived and I honestly thought that they expected we would be early anyway. Like I said before, we don’t get out that much and when we do – we are always early; they know us all too well.
This couple has acquired five grandchildren in five short years so we had much to talk about as we glanced over the more recent photos of the grandkids. Instead of new furniture, the grandmother was excited to share the news of their latest acquisition – a trampoline for the kids. She admitted that she has tried it once herself. Imagine that. Grandkids give us the opportunity to relive our own childhoods.
The nicest part of the annual dining experience is always the table talk at the restaurant. We cover the entire spectrum of current events as the world turns. We talked about the teens that whipped out their cells phones to capture photos of a man stuck on the train tracks. Why didn’t they step up to help him get off? They wanted a photo of him getting struck by the train. That didn’t happen thankfully. What on earth is happening to our children that they are obsessed with the tragedy instead of compassionate acts? Makes you wonder what the world will be like in the near future.
We finished our soup, a delightful mix of seafood bisque, and salad greens crisped to perfection. My husband ordered the duck and the waiter informed us that “Duck ala Orange” has been booted to the background. “The duck will be served with raspberry sauce.” Yum.
I ordered a flakey pastry puff of chicken with homemade mozzarella and spinach and wild mushrooms in a gentle cream sauce. I cannot begin to tell you how delicious it was. We talked on…
“It’s his birthday on Monday.” My husband blushed, embarrassed by my need to celebrate everything and anything.
His boss smiled, “Well, Happy Birthday! I’m not good at remembering those kinds of things. How old are you now?”
For the next half-hour, we bantered back and forth across the table revealing our ages. I won’t share those details but I will reveal that at forty-five, my husband is the youngest in our group by at least seven years! When you do the math, yes, I married a younger man.
Coffee and dessert, check and goodbyes. As we left the restaurant, I was rewinding the events in my mind. Four friends out to dinner, annual event, table talking at its finest. Oh and the food was good, too.