Sunday, April 25, 2010

Sunday Scribblings (Dinner) - Birthday Treat

'two of you?'

'yes, we have a reservation under springs.'

'springs, yes, we have you here. i see it's a special occasion.'

'yes,' he smiled widely, 'my wife's birthday.'

'wonderful. right this way, please.'

the young couple followed the tall host to a table in the far corner of the restaurant.

'oh dear,' exclaimed the young wife, 'this is where you proposed.'

the table was covered in glittering 'happy birthdays'; a bottle of chilled champagne awaited them. the host poured two glasses of the champagne. and left. the young couple toasted each other and sipped the bubbly.

as they replaced their glasses, the young man glanced the same host escorting another two people to an adjacent table. a woman about his age and a teenager. by the time he knew what was happening, he didn't have time to warn his wife.

'well, i'll be damned,' came the voice from the next table. 'how are you gerald?'

he hated that name. his given name because of that prick of an uncle. he always used peter.

he could choose to ignore the woman. but his wife was looking at him inquisitively. 'hello helen,' he replied.

he glanced back at his puzzled wife who mouthed, 'who is that?'

he smiled and said, 'just someone i knew earlier in life.'

'well that's an understatement if i do say so myself, gerald. still be completely true without being truly complete. i'm guessing this little woman has neither seen a picture nor heard of me. a shame, really. because now it will ruin what i can only guess is her birthday night. because i know it isn't yours.'

the diatribe made him lose all color. he smiled weakly at his wife. apologetically. because he knew what was about to happen.

'it has been a while, gerald. almost twenty years. when my father pulled me out of that private school for fear that i'd be ridiculed. you must remember, yes? junior prom when we got all dressed up and met at your parents' house. a beautiful house. how many cars in the garage? a boat too, i remember. we went to the dance, but you wanted to go with your friends to some after party. i wanted you to like me so i went. when is it, exactly, that you slipped the mickey? was it the first drink? or another one after that? i had enough alcohol in my system that it could have killed an elephant, the doctors told my father. and enough semen in me that i could have filled a large glass.'

'helen, please, can we talk outside?' he asked.

'no, i think your wife should know who she married. and by the look on her face, i don't think she knows. so, did you have sex with me? and how many others? i'd like to know. i couldn't find out then because all of you were excused. a bunch of guys you didn't know showed up, is what you said. and i disappeared with them in some room upstairs. everyone testified to that. everyone. and i became the joke.'

'helen, i'm really sorry about that night. but i had nothing to do with it. my friends and i didn't do that to you.'

'yes, i know, that's what you say. well, i have one question for you then, gerald. can you explain why my son, gerald, looks so much like you?'

3 comments:

Dee Martin said...

whoa Gerald, dude! Well, mama always said your chickens come home to roost. I hated that saying...
Great tale. Feel a bit sorry for them all though. Maybe not so much for Gerald the first..

Tammy Brierly said...

Yikes! Well done!

Old Egg said...

Gerald you are probably as guilty as hell but look, you have just made another mistake. As soon as you saw Helen, despite her outburst, you should have got up and left the restaurant with puzzled wifey and made excuses to her later.

Now why did Helen call her baby Gerald?

Intriguing read, marred slightly by being all in lower case, but if that is your style, I'll say no more.