Dinner at The Met
Friday – OLeif was off to a special doctor to see about his hopeless under bite. The car was still being mended at the dealership. Collette was tutoring math to the antsy Frances who was more interested in packing ice balls from the yard into the freezer and whipping tornadoes in glasses of water with a latte frother.
Earlier, while he had been out on the frozen patio, his potato gun exploded in his hands.”
“Owwww!” He laughed, wringing his hands.
“I’m writing a book about a fat kid!” Rose exclaimed. “His name is Ralph.”
Meanwhile, Linnea chased Frances around the house because he had stolen one of her Belgian chocolate seashells. Linnea quickly forgot about it, however, and began reciting tongue twisters with Frances.
“She sells sea shells…”
“Sea shells, she sells, sea shells…”
Dinner with Judah and Evangeline. After purchasing their house, OLeif and Collette had received a gift certificate from their mortgage company for a fancy Italian restaurant downtown. And finally, ten months later, they were able to use it. When they arrived fashionably late by several minutes, they entered The Met which was mostly quiet for the evening, the shops and businesses already being closed for the evening. A gallery of brightly colored works covered one glassed-in wall. Down the grand atrium stood a towering Christmas tree. At the coat-check, they were instructed to take the next elevator to the 4th floor, then another elevator to the 42nd, which was the top floor of the building.
Upon arriving, they quickly realized they had entered the wrong place.
“Did we come in the back entrance?” Judah laughed.
“Must be some Christmas party,” Evangeline said, looking at the table scattered with name tags.
They filed through the laughing crowd to the glass wall overlooking the city. While OLeif asked the bartender where they were supposed to eat, the others stared down over the lights of St. Louis. It was a fantastic view, exemplified by the white and red Christmas lights strung between and around various buildings and the bands of light from the highways.
“Well, we’re supposed to go back down to the lobby,” OLeif said. “The gal down there must have thought we were going to this party.”
“Hey, we could just put on name tags and get a free meal,” said Judah.
Nothing like following an ordained minister’s suggestions.
“I’d give us away in the first few minutes,” said Evangeline.
“‘Yeah, we’re actually not supposed to be here,'” OLeif mimicked her.
“When I was little,” said Evangeline, “my mom made Christmas cookies one year and told my sister and I not to eat any of them. But then my sister convinced me to help her take some. So we did and hid them. But I felt so guilty that the next day, I went to my mom and confessed everything and showed her where we hid them.”
“And that’s the last time,” said OLeif, “your sister invited you to help her…”
“With her trouble making,” Evangeline laughed.
Finally, they returned to the place from where they had come, realizing they had walked right by the entrance without reading the sign: Kemoll’s. It was dark, lit with candles and holly on the tables, floral drapes that could likely have been from the 90’s, but a wealthy tycoon’s home in the 90’s. Out came the menus.
Earlier, Evangeline and Judah shared their experience at another fancy restaurant.
“We took our seats,” said Evangeline, “and the waiter gave Judah a napkin to match his pants!”
“Yes, he asked me if I preferred a black napkin to match my suit,” Judah imitated a hoity–toity accent.
After everyone took their own sweet time deciding on their meals (which was okay because they were at a fancy restaurant and none of the waiters minded, none of the four), Evangeline ordered a sort of sweet Italian chicken, Judah – seafood, OLeif – veal, and Collette – fettuccine Alfredo (which she deemed safe enough). Salads arrived first, which of course, Collette did not order. But she did try the garlic cheese bread, which was good.
The conversation continued through various subjects including the tale of a Mongolian throat singer at Washington University, where Judah, Evangeline, and the rest of the audience were trying very hard not to laugh… Everyone, that is, except for several Korean children from a martial arts demonstration, who thought it was the most hilarious thing in the world. Evangeline’s grandparents living in a hillside village in Guatemala while in their 90’s, where, after her grandmother broke her hip, was lifted to a hospital in a military helicopter… Judah’s and Evangeline’s Christmas tree being the tiny silver tree Mom gave them as a joke for their first Christmas… Judah’s disbelief at all of Joe’s “grandma stories” throughout the years…
“Did your great grandma really survive the tri-state tornado in a cookie factory?”
“Well,” Collette laughed, “I don’t know if it as a cookie factory, but she was in a factory.”
“What’s the tri-state tornado?” Evangeline asked.
“I don’t know,” Judah chuckled.
“And then your grandma being hit by a bus?”
“Yes, that did happen. A city bus down here somewhere. But she’s fine now. She’s been around their world on trips since then. Nothing stops her.”
Later, before the meals arrived, Judah excused himself momentarily:
“Now at this other restaurant when I left, while I was gone, they refolded my napkin all fancy before I got back. Let’s test this out.”
And, indeed, as soon as he had left, their waitress snapped up the napkin, quickly folded it all fancy and set it by his plate. Following shortly behind her were their entrees, Judah’s covered with a silver lid. OLeif’s, Collette’s, and Evangeline’s dishes were garnished with a single white and pink orchid.
“Can we eat these?” OLeif asked the waitress.
“Oh, yes, they are extremely edible,” she said.
The meal was good. Never before had Collette so enjoyed fettuccine Alfredo. They discovered that they were too full for dessert and walked around the giant Christmas tree before calling it a night.