Leather covered booths, hushed in candlelight, red velvet walls plush out of town roadhouse-- a place to plan a heist, or worse. He wore his new blue suit asked for the wine list, ordered steaks, rare, and a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.
I’d survived high school French knew how to pronounce the name otherwise it was a puzzle as he was, though I understood. this dinner to be special-- cloth napkins, obsequious waiters, their formal presentation of the bill.
Such tender fillets, not Mom’s minute steaks hard and tough the foreign wine deep red with a promise of sweet and sour cherries, like everything like the red gold ring he gave me and the blood that ran from our meat.
