I had worked outside in the sun all goddamned day and when I got home I began filling and emptying glasses of Cabernet from a box. The sun was out and warm and bright and I was waiting for Marie to come home so I could take a walk. It is criminal to waste a beautiful afternoon. I sat at the computer typing and deleting sentences and pretending I knew what the fuck I was doing. I didn't.
I filled a third glass and sat down and Marie came rolling up the driveway on her red Dorothy Gale bicycle. Her hair blew in the breeze and from the window I watched her. I smiled and opened the door.
"Hello, my love," I said.
"Hey baby." She lifted her bike up over the front steps. I stepped down and took it from her and set it down on the side of the house. "Thanks honey," she said.
"How was work?"
"Eh. Work. Long."
We went inside. She set her purse on the dining room table and went to the bathroom and I sat down at the computer. "So you wanted to walk?" she asked from the bathroom.
"Yeah, whenever you're ready." I sipped.
She came out. "Okay. Let me just throw on some comfortable shoes."
"All right baby."
She disappeared into the back room and I finished my glass. I got up and went into the kitchen and took a steel water bottle out of the cabinet and began to fill it from the plastic spigot on the side of the wine box. It dripped and echoed and filled slow. Marie came out of the back room with her leather jacket on and her hair done and her make up fixed and on her feet one Chuck Taylor shoe and one white open footed flat.
"Which?"
I looked at the two and screwed the top onto my bottle. "The flats."
"That's what I thought." She kicked the Chuck Taylor off and slid on the matching flat. "Ready?"
"Yep."
I grabbed my keys, my jacket, and my sunglasses. Off into the afternoon we went.
My steel wine bottle knocked around in my pocket and my head floated. I kicked a pebble down the sidewalk.
"So where'd you want to go?" Marie asked.
"I don't know. Wherever. The library maybe?"
"Okay. I could use a coffee or something warm."
"I'm a little hungry."
"Do you want to get something to eat?"
"Yes."
Marie laughed. "Okay. What do you want?"
"No idea." I unscrewed the top of the bottle and took a large drink. "Cab?" I asked.
"Ugh, no thank you. Gross."
I started thinking about what I wanted. Caramel. Barbecue. Pudding. We walked on and I saw a toy car on the sidewalk. I took a picture of it with my phone and we kept going. Marie kept asking me what was wrong and I kept avoiding any real answer. I told her I wanted to download a bunch of Joan Jett records and she said she might end up listening to them more than me.
"Tacos," I said.
"What?"
"I want tacos."
"I'm not walking all the way to fucking Taco Bell."
I wanted tacos.
"There's that place on the traffic circle," she said.
"Juans?"
"Yeah."
We had gone there once before, but it was a few years back and I didn't remember much about it. I knew a few people that worked there and avoided it a little because of that. "I don't want to go there."
"What? Why? You said you wanted tacos, and unless we're walking all the way home and taking the car to taco bell, that's your only option."
"But..."
"But what?"
"I know people that work there."
"So?"
"So, then I'll have to say hello or something."
"Oh my god you big fucking baby," Marie said. "Now we have to go to Juan's."
"Why?"
"Drink your wine and man the fuck up." She kissed me and we walked uptown. We crossed two busy streets and I had more wine. I felt like I needed to.
We came to the traffic circle and the anxiety of making small talk with people I only sort of knew crept up my spine and I wanted to sit and shake my leg a little and let some of it out. I got like that sometimes. I drank more wine and then I only had half a bottle left. I had a solid buzz and I had to keep pace with Marie to show I wasn't some weak thing afraid of people I knew. I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with me.
We rounded the corner and went in.
I pulled open the door and immediately in the doorway we were surrounded by two heavy blankets or curtains or drapes or something and I laughed at the absurdity of it. I worried about it fucking up my hair and finally escaped them. I was smiling wide. "What the hell was that?"
The dining room was small, not much bigger than my living room I thought, and long, not wide. It was dim and most of the light came in through the plate glass window in the front. My eyes had to adjust.
There was a couple eating at one of the six tables and a tall brown haired guy behind the counter. He was watching us fight the curtains. "Hello," he said. "Welcome to Juan's."
"Hi," Marie said. "Sit anywhere?"
He nodded and smiled. "Yep. Sit anywhere. I will be right with you."
"Okay, thanks," Marie said.
We surveyed the restaurant for the best spots, and with no reasoning whatsoever we chose the table already next to us and sat. The chairs were what you would expect at a town hall meeting. Metal frames. Basic cloth cushions. Not bad, not exciting, but not bad.
The tall fellow came over to us and handed us two menus. "Can I start you off with something to drink?"
Marie looked over her menu. "I think I'll just have a large water, please."
"Okay, and for you sir?"
He looked like he should be trying out for Minor League Baseball and I wondered what he was doing waiting tables. I glanced at the menu. "Actually man, I brought a water bottle with me, I'm good, thank you."
"All right," he said, "well, I'll just give you a few minutes and let you decide then." He smiled kindly and disappeared into the increasingly dim back of the restaurant. Nineties alternative rock played on a radio somewhere back there. It wasn't loud. I saw no one I knew and relaxed a little. I opened my menu and began the always stressful ordeal of deciding what I wanted to eat. The menu was only three pages long. One for appetizers and salads. One for entrees (tacos and burritos), and the third for drinks and quesadillas.
"What are you getting?" I asked Marie.
She was silent for a moment as her eyes went up and down the Taco and Burrito page. "I don't...know..."
I began narrowing down my selections by the amount of things I would have to ask the waiter to hold. No onions. No sour cream. No tomatoes...
Soon I was down to two choices, though I forget the second one. I decided on the Pibli Pork Tacos (hold the sour cream, onions, and tomatoes). I wasn't sure what to expect. I barely had a grasp on how to pronounce 'pibli' much less what it meant.
Marie decided on something with chicken. I had a drink. We folded our menus and I looked at the counter and the fellow was looking at us. I nodded at him and he came over. "All set?" he asked.
Marie handed him her menu and ordered. She requested her beans and rice on the side. I held on to my menu, so I would remember to be a pain in the ass.
"Hard or soft shells?"he asked.
Marie looked at me and sighed. "Soft? I guess?"
"Okay. And for you sir?"
"Well," I said, "I'll have the Pibli Pork Tacos, I think. With no..." I looked at the menu. "...onions, tomatoes, or sour cream. Is there anything else on there that the menu doesn't say, like peppers or, I don't know?"
"No sir. That's it. Would you like hard or soft shells?"
"Hmm... Hard?"
"Okay. So..." He read back our order. We agreed and he disappeared again.
"So mister nervous, see anyone you know?" Marie asked.
"No, thank god."
"I don't know why you don't just talk to people."
"I don't know. I'm an idiot. I talk to you."
"I'm your wife."
"Whatever."
She smiled at me. "I love you monkey."
"I love you."
We sat back in the long, dim restaurant and flirted with each other. She was beautiful everywhere, but for some reason, I always found her the exceptionally beautiful when we were out and she was happy to be near me. I had no idea what that said about me. Presumably nothing good.
The waiter came back after only a few minutes with two plates in his hands.
"Oh excellent," I said.
He set the plates down and the food looked stunning. I sincerely wanted tacos. "Is there anything else I can get you at the moment?" he asked.
I looked at Marie. She shook her head gently. "No, sir," I said. "We're all set."
"Okay. Well, enjoy your meals," he said and left.
"This looks great," Marie said.
"Absolutely. Did I say I wanted hard tacos? I thought I said soft."
"You said hard."
"Okay."
I lifted the first taco and looked at it briefly before I ate it. Everything was laid out perfectly inside it. The portions were fair, and modest and it all looked so fresh. I bit it. The shell was corn. The pork was tender, the rice perfect. The black beans, as always, pulled it all together. It was fantastic.
"Good lord," I said. "That is awesome."
Marie swallowed her bite. "Word. I should have gotten hard shells though. Yours looks better than mine. Is yours corn? Mine's flour."
"Yeah, mine is corn. So good. Want a bite?"
"Mmm. Yes please."
I held my taco up for her and she bit it and I saw on her face how she enjoyed it. "Wow," she said. "Wow. Want a bite of mine? It has guacamole in it."
"Okay." I set my taco down and leaned in as she held hers forward. I bit it and it was good. It didn't excite me like mine had, but it was good. The guacamole was present, but not exuberant. It was just sort of, there. I imagined I could eat it everyday, but I'd long for something else after a while. I was glad I ordered what I ordered. I could eat that everyday, and never a thought would stray.
I finished quickly. Marie, a little slower. She scooped her rice and beans onto her fork and some of the beans fell off. "My frijoles negroes!" she said.
I laughed.
She ate a little more and left some on her plate. "A lady never cleans her plate," she said.
I thought about it and decided that that was a nice and classy rule.
The waiter came over and took our plates. "Could I interest you in a desert?"
"Well, sir," I said, now probably officially drunk, "you are free to try."
"Okay, well we have home made (I have forgotten the first option). It's really quite good. Also we have a home made chocolate pudding and a bit of cayenne pepper in it. you can't really taste the cayenne, but it adds just enough flavor to bring it to life. Lastly we have a sort of home made apple taco. Basically it's apples in cream cheese..."
"Stop right there, good sir," I said. "You say cream cheese, I say balderdash. Do you have a menu or anything with the options written on it so I can think it all over and be way too analytical over my desert?"
"James. Pick something," Marie said. "Sheesh."
She smiled at the waiter apologetically.
"Okay, okay," I said."I'll take the... pudding. Yes, the pudding. That sounds wonderful."
"Okay, the chocolate pudding it is. I'll have it right out to you."
"Excellent. Thank you," I said. The waiter disappeared again.
"You are such a pain in the ass," Marie said.
"I know." I finished my wine and now everything was comfortable and wonderful and my stomach was full and all of the tastes on my tongue and the music in the air and the darkened dining room and the love of my life across from me, all made this moment one truly of beauty and perfection. I smiled at Marie. She smiled back and I loved her.
The waiter returned quickly with a bowl of the pudding and two spoons and the check. He set them all down gently. "Enjoy, and thank you for coming in. If you need anything, I'll be right back by the counter."
"Okay," Marie said. "Thank you so much."
The waiter smiled and left.
I dipped my spoon into the pudding and held it out to Marie.
"Ooh, I get first bite?"
"Of course, m'lady."
"Why, thank you m'gentleman." She tasted it and cleaned the spoon and her eyes became wide and she smiled as she swallowed. "Good lord," she said. She took her spoon and dipped it in the pudding and held it out to me. I took it and understood. I swallowed. "That is the best fucking pudding I have ever had," I said.
"I know."
We ate it until it was gone. The consistency had been thicker than I was used to and I couldn't understand why all pudding wasn't like this. It seemed like it should have been the standard. Anything less was, well, less. I couldn't taste the cayenne, but the chocolate did somehow seem richer and brighter. It wasn't long in the bowl.
I licked my spoon and looked at the check. A little over twenty dollars.
"Wow," I said. "This wasn't expensive at all." I showed the check to Marie.
"We would have spent more if we went to Taco Bell."
"Probably."
We left thirty dollars on the table, put on our coats and fought through the attack drapes again. Outside I said to Marie, "that was really good. I'm glad you made me go in."
"Me too."
We went to a coffee shop nearby where a girl gave me a free scone and an abundance of smiles the minute Marie went to the bathroom.
