Dinner Disaster

Dinner Disaster

By: Bikerider

The kids were away for the day, a rare occurrence at our house; and we weren’t going to waste a single minute of our temporary freedom. We spent our afternoon in amorous behavior out at the pool, under the warm sunshine in our very secluded backyard. It was fun acting like kids again. Waking from a two-hour nap, we decided we had better get out of bed and see about dinner. Seeing only left-overs in the fridge we decided we would go out to eat.

Because we both looked exactly like we’d had the kind of afternoon we had, we should not have answered the knock at the door. The radio was playing, we were in the front room talking so we had to answer the door, whoever was knocking knew we were home.

“Who could that be?” my wife asked as she crinkled her brow, and looked at the door.

“I have no idea,” I said, “it’s probably one of the neighborhood kids looking for our kids to come out and play.” I went to answer the door.

When I opened the door I actually looked down, thinking I would be seeing a five-year-old. Instead, I saw two pairs of knees. No, I’m afraid it wasn’t the neighborhood kids. Standing at the front door was my co-worker and his wife.

“Hi,” Bob said, “I hope were not too early.” His smile was already beginning to droop.

“Hi” I replied, my voice was filled with surprise. “What’s up guys?”

“It’s Friday,” Mary said with hesitation, “the twenty-second?” She continued to look at me with a bit of scorn after she fell silent.

“Yes, yes it is,” I said as I looked back into the front room at my wife. She was sitting on the sofa, and her eyes were already throwing darts. As I stood barring the door I knew I was in big trouble. Behind my back my hand was giving her the newly-made-up signal to get inside, because I was about to let them in…and I knew she didn’t want to be seen looking the way she looked.

“You are in big trouble,” she said as she passed me on her way to the bedroom to shower and change.

“Come on in, guys” I said with a voice full of made-up enthusiasm.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” Mary said after I finally let them in.

“No, no, don’t be silly,” I lied, “of course we remembered, we’re just running a little late.”

She looked at me standing there in ragged, cut-off jeans, a stained T-shirt, and no shoes. My hair was matted to my head. I could see it in her eyes; she didn’t believe me at all.

“In fact,” I told them, “we’re running so late, we were just discussing that instead of having dinner here, we would take the two of you out for dinner with us…our treat.” My smile was wavering between wide, when I thought my lie worked, to a frown, when I realized it didn’t.

They didn’t stay long. Closing the door behind them, I thought that maybe I should have gone with them, because now I had to face my wife. She was still in the shower.

“I’m so sorry, hon,” I started as she wrapped a towel around her. When she looked at me I knew I should have gone home with Bob and Mary.

“I am so embarrassed,” she said, her voice was tinged with anger.

“Why, they didn’t see you.” I was trying for any redeeming value.

“When did you invite them to dinner?” she asked, “I had no idea they were coming.”

I knew this would make it worse, but since none of my lies had worked, I had to try the truth. It was a mistake.

“The night we were at their house…for dinner. When we were saying good-night I told them we’d have them for dinner, and we set the date.”

“And you didn’t bother to tell me!” The tinge of anger was now full-blown.

“I forgot.” I studied the floor tiles.

“You forgot?” the rest was garbled, “didn’t tell…embarrassed…look them in the face…are you crazy!”

“I’m sorry, hon,” I said as I decided to try begging, “I’m embarrassed too, but I’ll fix it when I see Bob at work. He’ll understand…really, he’ll understand.” Then I thought about a new, good idea. “What do you say we go out to dinner…someplace nice?”

“Whatever…we can take them with us, but you better buy their dinner.”

I remembered I didn’t tell her they left. “It’s not a problem, they’re not here, they went home.”



In the seven-years of our marriage I had never seen my wife’s face contort in the way it did just then. I think she tried to form a few words, but they didn’t come out. I think I actually saw hair falling out of her head. Tightening the towel further; probably as a sign that I should not touch her, ever again, she walked into the bedroom and dressed.

After a shower I raced to the kitchen and made dinner. I did what I could with the left-overs, but I knew whatever I made would taste like grumble soup to me.

After a lovely day we had a quiet dinner together…a very quiet dinner.

*****



W/C 896

Entry for the Writer’s Cramp for March 24, 2011. Prompt: Dinner disaster