Dinner

She was late. I was about to light my third stick when she opened the screen door carrying dinner for five.

“Wow.” I said.

So I helped prepare the food that occupied the whole four-seater dining table. There’s fried chicken in two flavors, mashed potatoes, soft tacos, large gravy, mushroom soup, spaghetti and brownies.

As soon as the table was set, we sat in our usual chairs.

I was dipping the chicken in hot gravy when she said, “You are now looking at the new Regional Coordinator for Asia. Benjamin Franklin all the way.”

The chicken was suddenly submerged in the gravy tub. “Really?” I was in awe.

And she smiled, flashing her perfect teeth. “Wow. I’m proud of you.” And I really was.

I was looking at her from across table as I saved my chicken from drowning in the gravy. This was the first time in months that she was really happy. She really loved the f*&*#?g organization. And her eyes were really smiling. She doesn’t have the laugh lines. Maybe because she was so unhappy for the longest time.

“You have diamonds in your hair.” I said.

“Oh, that’s because you stress me out. Besides, I’m 10 years older.” she said.

I want to argue more. Say something irritable that will give her multi-stress, but instead, I said: “Maybe the reason why people thought that unicorns sparkle is because their white hair shine brightly in moonlight, don’t you think?”

She gave me the crooked smile. “Yeah, I guess...”