Elizabeth’s Journal

Romantic Evening with Husband Nearly Thwarted by Husband

Monday night luckily turned out to be a roaring success. I had reserved a room with a king-size bed at the Stephen F. Austin Inter-Continental Hotel and planned to turn up at his work about 5 p.m., dressed to the nines, and whisk him away for a spectacular dinner and a private evening at a hotel, sans three-year-old child. This would be the first time we’d spent a night together—alone—since Jonathan was born.

So—the first thing that happens is Dale doesn’t get up until 9:30 a.m. Monday morning, saying he’s all stopped up in his nose and throat. Hopefully it’s just allergies and it will clear up once he’s up and about. I agree with a smile and go out to the kitchen to worry.

Then he says he’s going to work at home that day. Marvelous! Just what I needed! How can I surprise him by taking him to a hotel less than one block away from his workplace when he’s at home? I smile again and say what a wonderful treat it will be to have him at home.

At 10 a.m. I take Jonathan to his three-hour gymnastics time and drop Brian & Joy off at Highland Mall; in the parking lot of the mall I call a colleague of Dale’s and ask him to get together with Dale’s manager, who knows about the surprise, to manufacture a meeting to get Dale into the office by 2 p.m. Tony says he’ll do it, putting me in his debt for a big one.

When I arrive home, I hear, much to my great (manufactured) surprise that his manager has called him into work for a 2 p.m. meeting. We spend some time speculating about the purpose and its potential implications. I try very hard to keep the shit-eating grin off my face.

Then, while brushing his teeth, Dale comes into the kitchen, where I am quietly reading the paper since I can’t pack for our outing as I had planned. He looks quite stiff—when I look up at him, he says, “I think my back’s about to go.” Everything has seized up, and he can no longer turn his head to the left (this is a recurring problem with him). Oh yes, much good it will do us to have a king-sized bed all to ourselves when he CAN’T MOVE! I smile yet again and suggest he call his physical therapist. Keep smiling and remind myself it’s too late to cancel with no charges, and surely everything will work out, and also that possibly I should consider joining my acting cousin in New York City.

Eventually, Dale did go into work, the exercises his physical therapist prescribed via phone loosened up his neck, and I was able to surprise him; we had a lovely dinner at The Shoreline Grill, where as Dale so elegantly put it, his dinner looked like a painting, it was presented so beautifully. (Our meal included the duck liver pate for an appetizer, the fish (snapper) special for me, and Dale had the Lump Crabcakes & Grilled Shrimp for his entree; for dessert we split the chocolate tres leches, which is not on the online menu. It was all superb.) Then this morning in our room we had a fully cooked room-service breakfast, which we ate in our hotel-provided terrycloth robes. Yum.

So, today it was back to home with millions of things waiting to be done—dinner to be either cooked or bought (if bought—where from? what items to order? when to have it arrive? too many questions), bags to be unpacked, Xmas cards to be addressed (much less written), e-mail to be read, etc. Difficult returning to the real world after having spent a night removed from it. It was worth it though!

Posted by elizabeth at December 11, 2002 02:09 AM