Dinner
Aaron's house is clean and modest, a smallish three bedroom in an older neighborhood with tree lined streets and lots of old tropical foliage. I brought in all four of Annie's bags. In his bedroom was the same picture of the two of them kissing on the beach that Annie has in her bedroom at home. I noticed several other pictures of her as well, in the living room on the mantle of the fireplace; in the kitchen. She is prominently displayed.
I saw a picture of Aaron's late wife - it must have been taken 25 years ago. She was attractive, standing with her two sons in front of a high hedge.
I didn't have time to unpack our bags because Aaron said we had to get to the restaurant. We arrived at the place in about 15 minutes. It was a quaint little seafood place in a trendy section of town.
Aaron's friends were apparently waiting for us, and already had been seated at a table. His friend's names were John and Renee, and it was obvious they had already met Annie.
"It's great to see you again," Renee said as she hugged my wife. "What'd Aaron win the lottery or something?" John joked. "How'd he ever luck into a classy gal like you!"
They all laughed. It was uncomfortable for me, but I laughed too. My smile was plastic. What did they know about us? Anything? Everything? What or who did they think I was?
As dinner progressed, it didn't seem to matter. Anytime either of them got close to asking about me, the conversation was miraculously steered elsewhere by either Annie or Aaron. And they were very nice, down to earth, respectful people. I found myself liking them. It turns out, John is Aaron's best friend. And both he and his wife knew exactly who I was. I found this out later in the weekend.
As nice as they were, I was relieved when dinner ended and we parted ways. Before they said goodbye, Renee said they were having a cookout on Labor Day, and invited us over. Aaron looked at Annie and said, "Sure. Sounds great. What do you want us to bring?"
"Beer and bathing suits."
It was a date.
Aaron's house is clean and modest, a smallish three bedroom in an older neighborhood with tree lined streets and lots of old tropical foliage. I brought in all four of Annie's bags. In his bedroom was the same picture of the two of them kissing on the beach that Annie has in her bedroom at home. I noticed several other pictures of her as well, in the living room on the mantle of the fireplace; in the kitchen. She is prominently displayed.
I saw a picture of Aaron's late wife - it must have been taken 25 years ago. She was attractive, standing with her two sons in front of a high hedge.
I didn't have time to unpack our bags because Aaron said we had to get to the restaurant. We arrived at the place in about 15 minutes. It was a quaint little seafood place in a trendy section of town.
Aaron's friends were apparently waiting for us, and already had been seated at a table. His friend's names were John and Renee, and it was obvious they had already met Annie.
"It's great to see you again," Renee said as she hugged my wife. "What'd Aaron win the lottery or something?" John joked. "How'd he ever luck into a classy gal like you!"
They all laughed. It was uncomfortable for me, but I laughed too. My smile was plastic. What did they know about us? Anything? Everything? What or who did they think I was?
As dinner progressed, it didn't seem to matter. Anytime either of them got close to asking about me, the conversation was miraculously steered elsewhere by either Annie or Aaron. And they were very nice, down to earth, respectful people. I found myself liking them. It turns out, John is Aaron's best friend. And both he and his wife knew exactly who I was. I found this out later in the weekend.
As nice as they were, I was relieved when dinner ended and we parted ways. Before they said goodbye, Renee said they were having a cookout on Labor Day, and invited us over. Aaron looked at Annie and said, "Sure. Sounds great. What do you want us to bring?"
"Beer and bathing suits."
It was a date.