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Order this writing in the collection book Unlocking the Mysteries available for only $1795 |
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This appears in a pre-2010 issue
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Sea Change
Pat Dixon
It was the tenth anniversary of their decision to move in together, and Michael, recently promoted to full partner in a prestigious law firm, took Jessica, his “main squeeze,” to their favorite expensive restaurant to celebrate.
“Nutritionists claim that red meat is best for us after all,” said Jessica casually as she glanced over the menu. Claude, their waiter, nodded his large hairless head in silent approval of her words. Throughout the fads for fish and chicken dishes, he at least had always believed that red meat would make a triumphant comeback.
Michael reached forward and tenderly stroked Jessica’s bare upper arm.
“Are we ready to order?” he asked, gazing fondly into her large dark eyes.
Jessica nodded, and Michael beckoned to Claude, who immediately came forward.
“I’ll have the liver platter with a red lettuce salad--garnish both of them with thin slices of lemon, please,” said Jessica in a soft, liquid voice, looking up at Claude who stood beside her in a military manner, his silver fountain pen poised above his small note pad.
“Would madame care for a beverage?” he asked, his eyes wide with interest.
“No, but--what is the soup tonight, Claude?”
“Tonight we have the fine noodle soup with long strands of tripe and tiny cubes of rump steak, mildly seasoned with Chef Roger’s Secret Number Four. I believe that this has been the favorite with madame on earlier visits here--if I may be so bold.”
“You’re quite correct, Claude. With your infallible memory and tact, you are one of the chief reasons I and my--my--why we both prefer to dine here. Yes--I would like a large cup of your noodle soup tonight.”
“Madame is very kind. And you, monsieur?”
Michael smiled inwardly and took a deep breath.
“I’ll try your kidney pie, Claude. I feel, since this is a special occasion tonight, that I’ll treat myself to a very large kidney pie. And I’d also like a medium bowl of your fine noodle soup.”
“Of course, monsieur. Excellent choice, both.”
As Michael and Jessica waited for their food to arrive, they stared fondly into each other’s eyes.
“Did you ever think we’d make it to ten years?” asked Michael suddenly.
“I never had the slightest doubt, dearest,” she replied. “Did you?”
“Not about us, darling. But the economy has been so uncertain these past six years that I did often wonder whether we’d be able to continue to afford our life style. And I did wonder--sometimes--what you would think if we might have to cut back and move from our condo.”
“I would be happy just living in a cave with you, Michael. Did you ever doubt that?”
In five minutes Claude reappeared with a large tray. Skillfully, he set their food before them. Jessica marveled as she always did at the elegance and artistry of her food’s appearance. Then she glanced across at Michael’s food.
“Michael! What in heaven’s name have you done? I doubt that even a pod of orcas could put away a dinner that size! Surely you’ll eat moderately--because I love you--and we can take most of that home in a doggy bag.”
Michael grinned across at her. On the table before him was a huge kidney pie--eighteen inches across and ten inches deep.
“Now, Jessie,” he grinned, “don’t nag me about my diet. After all--you’re not my mother.”
Jessica caught her breath to snap something back at him in reply, then hesitated as she saw the bright twinkle in his large, soft eyes.
“Have it your way, sweetie,” she said in a low, soft voice, picking up her spoon to begin her soup.
Michael peeled back the crust of his pie and let out a loud gasp.
“Good heavens! Jess! Jessie! Look at this!”
Jessica stared across the table and into Michael’s kidney pie. A pair of large cardboard boxes were visible now that he had lifted away the flaky, light brown crust.
“Come see this,” said Michael, rising from his seat.
Claude, smiling to himself, deftly helped Jessica with her chair.
At Michael’s urging, she reseated herself in Michael’s chair and gazed at the lids of the two boxes inside his huge pie. Both of the boxes had her name written in fine calligraphy across their tops.
“What could this mean?” said Michael in mock surprise, bending low beside her.
Jessica gazed up at him and touched his shoulder affectionately.
“Try the box on the left first--the larger one,” he urged.
Prying open the lid of that box with Michael’s fork and knife, Jessica saw that it contained a large mass of tissue paper. She lifted this out and carefully unfolded it to find a large jewelry box.
“A little something Claude and Chef Roger and I cooked up,” said Michael, stroking the back of her neck.
The box contained a two-yard-long necklace of carefully graduated yellow and orange stones.
“Just my size,” giggled Jessica. “Will you help me put it on, please?”
As Michael fastened the clasp, she opened the lid of the smaller box, removed another large wad of tissue paper, and found another jewelry box inside it.
“Jess, please let me do the rest.”
He reverently pulled a large gold bracelet from the box and slipped it over her upper left wrist.
“Will you bring me joy, Jessie, by agreeing to be my wife?”
Jessica rose and embraced Michael tightly, and they stood trembling together for almost five minutes, as Claude tactfully looked away and hummed to himself.
“Yes, yes, yes,” whispered Jessica ninety-seven times.
Finally they caught their breath, and Michael invited her to look more carefully at his token of affection.
Like the necklace, it too had yellow and orange stones--large and very fine.
“They’re my favorites,” she said. “Gall stones and kidney stones.”
“Until last month, except for heirlooms, they were as illegal to own as new ivory--but the chief reason I was made a partner is the way I helped the firm get those old human rights laws overturned,” said Michael proudly.
As Michael nibbled on the side of her cheek, Jessica read the printed label inside the box which had contained her bracelet.
“Michael! Oh, Michael! They’re all natural stones, too! Not the newer cultured kind.”
“Natural stones cost me a hell of a lot more, sweetie--nearly two month’s salary--but nothing’s too good for my girl.”
Jessica began to nibble affectionately at Michael’s cheek and felt five of his tentacles groping her in an amorous manner. Claude tactfully slithered into another part of the restaurant, giving them privacy in their happiness.
