21. Frog
“Great, we’re in the car, all packed, ready to go, apartment’s been raked, burners all off, windows up so no to little dust when we return, everybody buckled up? sitting back? — so let’s get out of here,” and he pats Denise’s knee, starts the car, checks the street through the rear view and his side mirror, looks over his left shoulder, truck’s coming, “Come on, come on, you’re not supposed to be here except for a delivery and you’re wasting our precious time, we’ve a long way to go,” truck passes, checks the mirrors again, over his shoulder, all clear, same in front, even the light’s green and with enough time to make it, and he goes.
“Where do you want to eat tonight?” he says to Denise at the first red light and she says “You made a reservation for the Breakwater, so do we have a choice?” and he says “I made it a while ago, but you said you might want to change things around a little and go to a seafood place in Cape Porpoise,” and she says “We can do that coming home, for you didn’t make a reservation for that night also, did you?” and he says “I was going to tonight — to be safe, since it’ll be the Thursday before the Labor Day weekend; but then I was thinking the Breakwater’s gotten so expensive and fancy with the candles and no wine carafes,” and she says “Still, it’s close to the Green Heron, so you can walk the girls to it and I’ll drive,” and he says “You feel safe doing it?” and she says “What, the equivalent of two city blocks?” and he says “But your feet, you say they don’t feel the pedals,” and she says “Not right off most times but I’ll go real slow, and back the car into the Green Heron parking spot so I don’t have to pull out in reverse,” and he says “I’ll walk the girls, get them on the porch or inside and run back and drive you,” and she says “That’s a waste of energy and unnecessary,” and Olivia says “Is the Breakwater where they have the rainbow sherbert I like?” and he says “Dot’s de platz, hon,” and Eva says “I want rainbow sherbert tonight,” and he says “Only if you finish all our dinners — OK,” to Denise, “we’ll stick with the Breakwater — it’s simpler — but maybe for the last time.”
“Dinner, why are we talking dinner?” she says, “we’ve got a few hours till lunch yet,” and he says “Same place in Holland, Mass — Goodalls, Goodwalls?” and she says “If we can make it before the girls starve,” and he says “I packed a food bag just in case — those baby bagels, carrot sticks and such, even a tahini-spread sandwich for you, so we’ll try for it?” and she says “Do we have to settle on it now?” and he says “You know me, I like to get most things done ahead of time so with a clear mind I can go at the few things I really like doing,” and she says “Why don’t you then get your gravestone made and engraved and obit written and invite the guests you especially want at your funeral and unveiling and related rituals? — perhaps a big blowout after,” and he says “Nice premortuary talk in front of the kids, and please don’t mention blowouts while we drive,” and she says “Just asking but when did you make the Breakwater reservation?” and he says “To make or break the makewater breakavacation — when the Green Heron opened for the season, so around April,” and she says “Don’t you find that a wee bit something?” and he says “Maybe even March, but remember a few years ago in May when I tried for a room at the Heron and they were booked through Labor Day, so we couldn’t even stay there coming back?” and she says “A small affordable unassuming room for a night in a chic summer resort is one thing, plus we had four cats then, but a large restaurant where there are many other restaurants of supposedly similar size, quality, prices and view? — the worst that could happen is we’d wait half an hour to an hour for a table which would mean the kids would play and bother us a little, I’d read and you’d get semibombed on two straight-up martinis at the bar,” and he says “Well, I made it off the office phone, same time I made the Green Heron reservation, for the latter made me think of the other, and here it is today and we’ve nothing to worry or later be bothered or me tomorrow hungover about and no hour to lose,” and she says “That is something, I suppose,” and rests her head back, feet up on the dashboard, big sigh, shuts her eyes.