Dinner for Christine

        “Remind me again why I’m here? I should be sitting right above the 40-yard line with my war-paint on.” My best friend John had tickets to the Seahawks game tonight, but I had roped him into helping me setup this romantic night instead. 

“You’re here because you owe me one, and because you love Christine as much as I do, and you know this will make her happy.” John and I had been best friends since the first grade. Even though my family moved around a lot, we stayed in touch and wound up going to the same college, then accidentally both got jobs working for the same company a couple of years after we graduated. So it is fair to say that we've known each other forever and I think he is a stand-up guy, a good egg, and otherwise a solid friend.

A few years ago, there was a boating accident, John wound up in the water and unconscious and I was the one who jumped into the Puget Sound waters to save his life. It was February and the water was so cold that it took the breath right out of me as soon as I broke the surface. We were both treated for hypothermia that day. I’m not an asshole, I don’t hold that event over his head, really I swear, but sometimes John just needs a gentle nudge to get him to do the right thing so maybe once or twice a year I have to remind him that I saved his life. I don’t push if it seems like something he is seriously opposed to, for example I’m not going to try to use it to convince him to give up whiskey or bacon or anything like that. Sometimes I just need a favor and I know he’s just arguing for the sake of being contrary.

 “What time is she supposed to be here again?”

“Half an hour.” This is the third time I’ve reminded him since we started getting ready. He’s nervous, and I can understand why. 

“I don’t suppose there’s any way we can cut this short so I can catch the rest of the game?” Honestly, I almost want to let him go. We just spent three hours cleaning the whole house: vacuuming and sweeping the floors, cleaning the bathroom, cleaning the kitchen, doing the dishes from yesterday, we even dusted the shelves and everything. Then he spent an hour and a half dragging boxes from the garage and attic and finding the right decorations while I started cooking. He really has been pulling his weight today and I appreciate that more than he can know.

“John, you’ve been a huge help all day. We’re almost done now. I set the TV to record the game so we can watch it after, but I really need you here for this. It has to be PERFECT tonight, and you’re the only one I can count on.”

John just rolled his eyes and started setting the good silverware out on the table. Then I handed him the long lighter we use to light the BBQ grill and he lit the candles on the centerpiece. “So, what are we serving on this special night?”

“Well, I made Christine’s favorite: chicken marsala over fettuccini, spinach salad, and homemade apple pie with ice cream for dessert. Just remember that tonight you’re not here as our friend, you’re just a waiter. That means –“

 “I know, I know…” John broke me off in mid-sentence because I had already said this about eight times so far today. “I have to be invisible, like a ninja with champagne refills. I’ll behave, I promise.” He crossed his fingers over his heart and looked very sincere in that moment. “And that smells as delicious as it sounds. I hope you made extra so I can eat while I watch the game later.”

In reply I just winked and gave him the thumbs up. “Well,” I said after taking one last long look at the fruits of our labor, “I think that’s it. Everything looks perfect. Let’s go get changed before Christine gets here.” For a special night like this, you have to look the part in order to sell it properly. So, I had rented the same tuxedos that John and I had worn at the wedding, very fancy. I knew Christine would love that. I took my blue jeans off and sat on my bed with the tux laid out beside me. I was feeling nostalgic, so I picked up the framed photo I kept on my dresser, the one from that first dance as a married couple. Hard to believe it had been twenty years already. Somehow or other tears started forming on my cheeks while I sat there remembering it all. Dancing with her at homecoming so she didn’t feel left out without having a real date that night, helping her study so she could pass her calculus tests in college, throwing her a surprise graduation party – which she ruined by not showing up because nobody told her it was her party, all the times she made me laugh with her crazy impressions from various Disney movies.

Christine was so lucky to have found a guy like Michael to spend her life with. They were still so happy together after all this time, even after two miscarriages and Michael’s struggles with his addiction that followed. Through it all he had treated her right, and she had never been disappointed or ashamed of him. It was a bumpy road but they walked it together all this way, and looked like they would continue walking hand in hand for another 20 years. That’s true love, the kind you are lucky to find once in a lifetime. So this night is going to be perfect because it is what my baby sister deserves, and it is the only way I can show her how much I care about her, how much I love her, and how proud of her I am. So, I just sat with that photo and silently cried tears of joy for a few minutes. 

Then I wiped my tears and had just barely managed to tie my shoes when I heard the doorbell ring and it was go-time. I put the photo back on the dresser, smoothed out the front of my vest, splashed on a little cologne, and went out to hug my sister and brother-in-law and welcome them to their anniversary dinner.