THE FOUND WEEK-END
'Joseph look at me. I want to talk to you but have to talk fast so you can watch Monday night football. He quizzically looks up from his steak tartare, chews the raw onions, takes a sip of water and waits.
'I picked up a few travel brochures during my lunch break today. Violet, remember the agent we used three years ago? Well, she gave me some hints. France in August is a morgue, unless we want to go to the farm country. Italy is overflowing with college kids on bikes, a lot of drugs.' I take a breath and wait for the expected, 'What's for dessert?' He's such a testy guy, always was, still is.
'I picked up a few travel brochures during my lunch break today. Violet, remember the agent we used three years ago? Well, she gave me some hints. France in August is a morgue, unless we want to go to the farm country. Italy is overflowing with college kids on bikes, a lot of drugs.' I take a breath and wait for the expected, 'What's for dessert?' He's such a testy guy, always was, still is.
'O.K., put this under your thinning hair. I'm thinking Spain, Portugal. It's
picturesque, has castles, fishing villages, small hotels.' He doesn't flinch, just drops his rolled up napkin next to his plate and asks what's for dessert. Before he heads to the powder room for fifteen minutes, he takes time to simply look at me and say, 'Not interested.' His routine won't change. The next time I see him he will be taking up the entire living room sofa. The t.v. will be too loud for me and he will be jotting down the scores of other games that are already in the fourth quarter. The Rams and Colts are tied and I can see, hear, feel, the excitement of the crowd and Joseph beginning to snore. I am frustrated, angry, talking to deaf ears, 'Goodnight,' and go up to bed.
picturesque, has castles, fishing villages, small hotels.' He doesn't flinch, just drops his rolled up napkin next to his plate and asks what's for dessert. Before he heads to the powder room for fifteen minutes, he takes time to simply look at me and say, 'Not interested.' His routine won't change. The next time I see him he will be taking up the entire living room sofa. The t.v. will be too loud for me and he will be jotting down the scores of other games that are already in the fourth quarter. The Rams and Colts are tied and I can see, hear, feel, the excitement of the crowd and Joseph beginning to snore. I am frustrated, angry, talking to deaf ears, 'Goodnight,' and go up to bed.
In the morning, we are not exactly civil with each other. Joseph seems unaware of the rift being hammered into our marriage. Maybe it's my fault. I used to be his first violin, now I am his tuba, loud and annoying.
Since Joseph shows no interest whatsoever in traveling and less and less of me, I let up, drop the travel brochures in the recycle bin. Violet I leave hanging in the air. She has called me twice and I have
phumphed and put her off.
Since Joseph shows no interest whatsoever in traveling and less and less of me, I let up, drop the travel brochures in the recycle bin. Violet I leave hanging in the air. She has called me twice and I have
phumphed and put her off.
Where my great idea came from, I'm not sure, but I have one. There is so much hoopla in the papers, on T.V. about Super Bowl time! The wonderful smell of the brisket I have been roasting for two hours, along with crispy, thin sliced potatoes, deep, rich brown gravy overpowers Joseph as soon as he opens the front door. I greet him with a big smile and ask if he would like to join me with a glass of Val Policella before we have dinner. 'Wow, dinner smells good enough to eat. I just want to wash up. Pour us each a tall glass.'
I have romantic tall white candles lit on the dining room table. The salad I prepared is extra crisp and full of the red radishes Joseph likes. Everything is going smoothly. No mention of travel upsets our evening together. I am really happy there is no football on this evening. As soon as the table is cleared, I blow out the tall candles that were just about ready to drip on my linen cloth. 'Ready or not, here comes dessert!' On a large glass platter I have put my home made chocolate, chocolate cake molded like a football. Celery sticks make the goal posts. We laugh together. 'Joseph, I have a great idea. Let's give a Super Bowl party here. We've been guests at lots of them and this will be our return party. It can really be fun. You can set up the lottery.'
Joseph says neither yea or nay. I continue. 'Let's make it sorta informal. I make a great corned beef and cabbage, don't I? We can have cold beer, sour pickles, dips and I can make a football cake like what we are eating now only much, much bigger. Joseph grabs me, almost squeezes the life out of me but says nothing until he winks and says one word, 'Great,' pauses what seems like forever. He lifts me off my feet and tells me he has a surprise for me. I mutter stupidly, What? Tell me. No, don't tell me. Save it.' Under other circumstances when he says 'Shut up,' I would be angry. This time I sit quietly and listen to him.'This coming week-end we have a reservation at the Hilton across the Bay Bridge. It's brand new. We are both getting massages, going to drive to Annapolis, have candlelight dinners and wild orgies of eating, with no dishes to clean up. How this grab you?' he asks. I call him Josie and he doesn't get angry. 'Josie honey, I'm overwhelmed. Thank you in advance.' He looks sweetly at me and tells me to calm down. That is the appeteaser.' The week after the Super Bowl and our party we're booked in to tour Spain, stopping first in beautiful Barcelona. I've checked our passports and they are in good order. Violet is handling everything.
In the meantime, Wifey mine, let's make our Super Bowl party Super and tonight the most super night of all.'
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