Time to Settle Accounts
April 6, 2011: Once upon a time.
“Write me a story,” you said. “Our perfect weekend.”
“Okay,” I said, and my mind skipped back to January 1st, you and I cleaning the plates and napkins and beer cans and party favors and sharing a bottle of champagne, which we even brought into the shower, just because we could. It was our first New Years together but the third party we’d co-hosted at my place and I looked back at you as I answered the door again and again and you were smiling and laughing and people felt good to be around you.
A Friday date night. My burgeoning tastes push me to try your lobster bisque. I like it! My second soup. You offer me some sort of mushy mozzarella that I accept and chew and really taste, and it’s good. We stare and laugh, and blow and catch kisses, and later we have the best key lime pie we’ve had since before Miami. At night I get you two glasses of water to put by the bed, and we brush our teeth, and you rearrange the pillows and we cuddle in and read a chapter of our bedtime book. I cried a little when the boy cried for the old man, and didn’t care to hide it.
And it’s Saturday, and we’re playing cards, or we’re watching football with camp friends, or we’re at a show and I’m anxious and focused and gulping Blue Russians, and you’re sitting by the wall talking to three of my oldest and dearest and looking at me and smiling, and it’s late and I walk to you and yawn and say something like “I got the sleeps,” and you respond in your finest West Texas drawl “I got the hungers,” and I say “Let’s go to Santullo’s and get the eats and then go home and get the sleeps,” and you say “mrrrrrr..” and we nod and agree and kiss and I run back.
None of it tops Sundays, which can easily run from “Morning..” to “Night-night babys” in one fluid motion. Up at noon, eggs and smoothies by me, pancakes and bacons by you. Then you say, “let’s take a nap.” When we finally turn the lights back on it’s nearly six and time for dinner, which we also make together.
“That’s definitely a part of our perfect weekend,” I said.
“Sorry. I was thinking.”
NEXT: A long time coming. (4.12.11)
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