if we go directly to dinner now.” Genevieve rose from her chair.
“Actually, why don’t you wait here?” Steven suggested. “I’ll make sure our luggage made it to our room and come right back.”
Genevieve settled into the chair once again and told herself to relax. She discretely slipped off her shoes and let the fire’s warmth penetrate her cold feet. Wiggling her toes, she stared into the flames. Slender branches of golden firestretched from the fat logs, swaying in an unseen draft.
I wonder why Steven wanted to come here this weekend. This isn’t routine for him. Usually he only wants to go away for our anniversary weekend
.
Genevieve remembered that the last time they had tried to get away was for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Steven had made all the plans for them to go to Hawaii for a week. They got into a huge argument on the way to the airport and had a miserable flight to Oahu. A terrible storm was dumping buckets of rain on the Hawaiian Islands when they arrived, and they spent the first two days in their hotel room barely speaking to each other. They called a truce by the end of the second day, and the rest of their anniversary week was cordial and uneventful.
Genevieve didn’t know what to expect this weekend. For a flitter of a moment, she wondered if Steven had some announcement to make to her and wanted to be away from home when he told her.
There I go, fretting again. Why can’t I be at peace about anything? Where is all this anxiety coming from?
Steven appeared and offered her his hand. They walked quietly through the lobby to the dining room. Their table was next to the floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the ocean. The sun already had gone down, and the rain splattering against the windows smeared their limited view of the outside world. It was cold sitting near the glass. Genevieve studied the menu while wiggling her toes in an effort to prolong the fire’s warming effects.
Dining out was something Genevieve enjoyed. She likedto evaluate the items listed on the menu and see how chefs used common ingredients with uncommon results.
The soup of the day caught her eye. It was lobster bisque. Both she and Steven started with a cup of soup, followed with a spinach salad garnished with pecans and mandarin orange slices. Their conversation was light, as it had been in the car on the forty-minute drive to the coast.
“I know you told me that Mallory is staying with the Johnsons,” Steven said. “But did I ask you where Anna ended up this weekend?”
He had asked in the car, but Genevieve’s answer must not have stuck with him. “Anna is at a sleepover with some girls from the church. They’re at Brad and Alissa’s house.”
Steven knew Brad and Alissa well because they both had been renters at the duplex next to Steven and Genevieve’s home in Pasadena.
“What is Anna doing tomorrow?” Steven asked.
“She’s going to stay at Brad and Alissa’s and help them get the room ready for the girls.”
“That’s right,” Steven said. “The time is getting pretty close for them, isn’t it? When do they go to Russia to pick up the girls?”
“It’s Romania, actually.” Genevieve pushed the rest of her soup aside. It wasn’t very warm, and the flavors had been a disappointment. She preferred to save room for the salad and the main course of cedar-grilled salmon with a glaze of brown sugar and cilantro. “The adoption of the two sisters was final a few weeks ago, but they’re waiting for all the paperwork from the government to come through.”
“How old will the girls be when they arrive?”
“Two and almost three. There’s only eleven months between them.”
“Almost like having twins,” Steven said. “Brad and Alissa are certainly going to see their lives change.”
Genevieve nodded. “Children do have that effect on you.”
Steven seemed thoughtful a moment. “I don’t think our lives changed much after our girls were born, do you?”
Genevieve
“Actually, why don’t you wait here?” Steven suggested. “I’ll make sure our luggage made it to our room and come right back.”
Genevieve settled into the chair once again and told herself to relax. She discretely slipped off her shoes and let the fire’s warmth penetrate her cold feet. Wiggling her toes, she stared into the flames. Slender branches of golden firestretched from the fat logs, swaying in an unseen draft.
I wonder why Steven wanted to come here this weekend. This isn’t routine for him. Usually he only wants to go away for our anniversary weekend
.
Genevieve remembered that the last time they had tried to get away was for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Steven had made all the plans for them to go to Hawaii for a week. They got into a huge argument on the way to the airport and had a miserable flight to Oahu. A terrible storm was dumping buckets of rain on the Hawaiian Islands when they arrived, and they spent the first two days in their hotel room barely speaking to each other. They called a truce by the end of the second day, and the rest of their anniversary week was cordial and uneventful.
Genevieve didn’t know what to expect this weekend. For a flitter of a moment, she wondered if Steven had some announcement to make to her and wanted to be away from home when he told her.
There I go, fretting again. Why can’t I be at peace about anything? Where is all this anxiety coming from?
Steven appeared and offered her his hand. They walked quietly through the lobby to the dining room. Their table was next to the floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the ocean. The sun already had gone down, and the rain splattering against the windows smeared their limited view of the outside world. It was cold sitting near the glass. Genevieve studied the menu while wiggling her toes in an effort to prolong the fire’s warming effects.
Dining out was something Genevieve enjoyed. She likedto evaluate the items listed on the menu and see how chefs used common ingredients with uncommon results.
The soup of the day caught her eye. It was lobster bisque. Both she and Steven started with a cup of soup, followed with a spinach salad garnished with pecans and mandarin orange slices. Their conversation was light, as it had been in the car on the forty-minute drive to the coast.
“I know you told me that Mallory is staying with the Johnsons,” Steven said. “But did I ask you where Anna ended up this weekend?”
He had asked in the car, but Genevieve’s answer must not have stuck with him. “Anna is at a sleepover with some girls from the church. They’re at Brad and Alissa’s house.”
Steven knew Brad and Alissa well because they both had been renters at the duplex next to Steven and Genevieve’s home in Pasadena.
“What is Anna doing tomorrow?” Steven asked.
“She’s going to stay at Brad and Alissa’s and help them get the room ready for the girls.”
“That’s right,” Steven said. “The time is getting pretty close for them, isn’t it? When do they go to Russia to pick up the girls?”
“It’s Romania, actually.” Genevieve pushed the rest of her soup aside. It wasn’t very warm, and the flavors had been a disappointment. She preferred to save room for the salad and the main course of cedar-grilled salmon with a glaze of brown sugar and cilantro. “The adoption of the two sisters was final a few weeks ago, but they’re waiting for all the paperwork from the government to come through.”
“How old will the girls be when they arrive?”
“Two and almost three. There’s only eleven months between them.”
“Almost like having twins,” Steven said. “Brad and Alissa are certainly going to see their lives change.”
Genevieve nodded. “Children do have that effect on you.”
Steven seemed thoughtful a moment. “I don’t think our lives changed much after our girls were born, do you?”
Genevieve
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