I certainly had not expected that a birthday cake would be included with dinner!
I had gone to Bill's house for dinner, to make my apologies yet again for Sunday. You see, he and I were to have gone to the ball game together, using the box seat tickets of the baseball girls duo. Then, I had an opportunity to see my stepmom and her two grandsons that same day, so I took it! Next thing you know, I had turned it into
a family affair, using some of my season tickets, inviting my eldest brother and his clan as well as my first niece and her bunch. The more, the merrier, right?
But Bill and his dog got left out, when all was said and done. My phone had died prior to the game even starting. Not good. I could use other phones to contact my family members, as their numbers are prior to my cell phone days. But I did not know his number. Not good. I did look for him several times, and even left his ticket with the box office. Not
quite good enough.
So I had arranged a dinner with him, being careful to not say anything about my birthday. He suggested dinner at his place, so I could have a little time with his therapy dog. Cool beans!
I brought
two bottles of my lovely stash from the monks of San Sebastian. After all, I had been in the wrong and I wanted to try to make things right again. Knowing him to be a fan of vineyard products, proffering two bottles of my favorite lovelinesses should at least be a good start! I brought the Castillo Red, a rich and dry wine that still spoke of muscadines, and, of course, the grapefruit-tinged Blanc du Bois. Truly, I regard
that wine as treasure!
I was greeted with a hug and a tail wag, so all was good. Then we chatted for a bit on the porch, sipping a glass of the red, admiring its color and taste. Good! Chillin' with a friend and vino!
We dined on a Mediterranean-style grilled chicken salad, easy on the feta. (I had lactase!) And, of course, Castillo Red - very nice! We eventually even opened up the second bottle, to enjoy with the birthday cake and, later, while relaxing in the back yard, post-meal. And we admired the lovely artwork he had hung in the dining room, the lovely piece of himself he was gifting to me.
You see, he had told me in October, at his annual Feast of Saint Francis of Assissi, that the multi-media piece was mine. I had openly admired it, telling him that I had wanted it for years, but knew I could not afford it. And he told me it was mine. He had a policy with himself: if someone truly loved one of his pieces, then he would gift them with it, knowing the child of his creative muse would have a good home. I knew nothing of that policy or I doubt I would have spoken of my love for "Ocean, Tumultuous". That is my name for the piece, not his.
And he
gave it to me. Just like that. At that very moment last fall. He said he would put a mount on it, as it was still easel-bound, but he would get a mount on it so I could hang it in my house. I had tried to tell him that he was being too generous, that he could sell it instead. But he had insisted that it could never belong to another since he knew I loved it so.
And now, he had the Ocean ready to come home with me.
Today.
This very evening.
In time for my birthday.
Incredible.
It now occupies the place of honor in my living room, greeting myself and every guest of my home with each opening of the front door.
Thank you, Bill.
