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Story Notes:
A very special thanks to my good friend Sarah and late beloved grandmother.
I awoke to the flight attendant announcing our arrival in New York. I breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Running my fingers through my hair, a smile crept to my face as I remembered who would be waiting for me. In our eight months together, before I went to L.A. to work on the new album, my boyfriend John and I had been nearly inseparable. Nevertheless, after a few weeks of being apart our phone calls became few and far between. I had clearly warned him about my crazy schedule, he seemed to understand, but now in the recent weeks away from him, I was beginning to have my doubts. I wanted to stay positive about the relationship, I wanted us to work. I had made reservations yesterday at his favorite Italian restaurant for tonight.
The taxi ride to my house took an hour and a half. The closer we got, the more anxious I became. I smiled, spotting his car in the driveway. I received an unintelligible grunt when I handed the driver my money. I grabbed my duffle bag off the seat and he took off as the door slammed. With my bag slung over my shoulder, I headed toward the porch. I could see the upstairs bedroom light on. I sped up my pace. It was unlocked and I dropped my bag in the breeze way, then wiped my shoes on the mat, before walking into the living room.
“John?” Silence. “Babe?” Thump. Suddenly, he came rushing down the stairs shirtless and grinning from ear to ear. His chest length ginger hair streaming behind him. He leapt from the bottom stair into my arms. I could not hold back my smile.
“You’re home! I missed you.” Sooner than I could respond, his lips were on mine. He pulled back, smirking. With his forehead resting against mine, he asked, “Did you miss me?”
“Of course I did.” I kissed his cheek lightly. “How would you like to have dinner at Pasti Insieme
tonight?” His face lit up. “Get dressed. The reservation is for seven. We don’t have much time.” He sprinted up the stairs, smiling happily. I was already dressed for dinner, in brand new tan slacks and a navy button-up shirt my cousin had bought me for my birthday. He came back down twenty minutes later wearing a black button-up with a red tie and black slacks, his long hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He was beaming even brighter. He bounced down the stairs, grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door, giggling. I locked the door behind us and opened the passenger door for him. After making sure he was comfortable, I walked around to the other side and climbed in and started the SUV. I backed out and headed across town.
“I’m so glad to see you.” He bit his bottom lip, as though trying to hold back his excitement. I flashed a smile in his direction. Then spotted the restaurant, I peered over my left shoulder a couple times before changing lanes. I pulled in the parking lot and found a spot close to the entrance. I ran over to his side and helped him out, then lead him up the stone walk way by the hand. The hostess greeted us with warm rehearsed smile.
“How are you tonight, sir? What’s the name?” Her eyes drifted to our interlocked fingers, but quickly snapped back up to my face.
“Dorough.”
“Right this way, gentlemen.” She took two menus from the slot on the side of the podium and turned on her heels, gesturing kindly for us to follow. The room was dimly lit by tiny white bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Silver candles flickered in the middle of each table. Only one table was occupied, by an older man, maybe in his late sixties. He looked sad, eating his pasta quietly. The woman took us to a table in the corner. I pulled out John's chair for him, and then took my seat. She laid the menus on the forest green table linen.
"Your waitress will be with you in a few minutes." I nodded, thanking her. She smiled and retreated back to her perch. I picked up a menu and handed him one. I scanned over the wine list, deciding quickly. I glanced across the table at him. He looked younger in the candle light. I smiled, I truly had missed him. His bright green eyes moved over the menu.
"Would you like to get some wine?" He looked at me, like he was unsure if the words had come from my mouth.
"I don't know, I mean... I don't know anything about wine."
“Don't worry about it. You'll like what I get." I smiled reassuringly.
The waitress came over a few minutes later and introduced herself as Kayla. We placed our orders and I asked for two glasses of Bertani.
I swirled the red liquid around in my glass. “See the streaks? Their called ‘legs’ –some people say ‘tears’. Notice how thick they are? That’s good.” John watched intently as I spoke. He sipped his wine sheepishly. “You like it?” He nodded, smiling.