Page 13 of Abbott’s Lost Spoon

“No. Did you want to?”

“Not necessarily. Just guessing. I probably was supposed to start with animal, vegetable, or mineral.”

I chuckled, “It doesn’t matter. Ask anything you want and if you decide you want a flat-out answer, I’ll give you that too.”

“This is fun,” he said. “As long as you think so too.”

“I do. Ask more.”

He did, going from logical like was dinner involved to silly ones that would have had us skydiving onto a train where we would eat in the dining car. He was closer than he probably thought, but when we exited the highway and the wheel came into view, lit up in purples, blues, and greens, he sucked in a breath.

“Soren, are we going to ride the Ferris wheel tonight?”

“That’s part of it. Want to know the rest?”

“Yes. I can’t wait any longer or I’ll explode.” He bounced in the seat. “Tell me everything.”

“We’re going to climb into one of those pods and have drinks and appetizers and dinner and dessert. The only time we’ll see anyone else is when we stop at the bottom for the next course.”

“So, hours up in the sky?” He rolled down the window and stuck his head out. “It’s sooo high!”

For a second, I was afraid I’d made a mistake. “Is that okay? Would you rather not be ‘up in the sky’ that long?” Lots of people weren’t fond of heights, and I should have taken that into account. “Because we can always do something else…like bowling?”

“Oh no. I like bowling okay, but that’s an ordinary thing to do. This is so special! How did you know I’d love it?”

“I took a guess.” And I hadn’t goofed. I parked and went around to open his door. “Ready?”

We entered a small building where we, along with the others for the first seating of the evening, were given a short talk on how it all worked and safety procedures. We made a couple of menu and drink selections then all hustled out to the platform to wait for our turn to board. It was mostly couples, a few double dates, and one party of six celebrating a retirement. But everyone was excited.

A few parties boarded before us, each lifting off while the diners inside waved to those of us still in line. Then finally, the conductor waved us on and we climbed the couple of steps and into the pod. It was glass all around except for a strip of floor, where a table was bolted down. It was covered with a white cloth, bench seats on either side. Our cocktails and appetizers would be served the next time we reached the bottom of the wheel, but bottled water and a silver dish of raw vegetables cut into fancy shapes with a dip would tide us over until then.

Abbott sat down on one bench, and I hesitated. Would he want me to sit next to him? First dates could be complicated. He smiled, though, and patted the seat. Thank heavens. As soon as we were seated, we lifted off.

The wheel moved slower than other versions I’d been on, and the car itself had virtually no sway. For good reason. The glassware and plates and everything stayed in place, undisturbed by the wind blowing the leaves of the trees below us or the ride itself carrying us around the center. The food was good, the background music choices nice and nondisruptive, and the company excellent.

By the time we exited, I was tired and happy and full. They did offer doggy bags, which we carried back to the car, enough left for another meal for each of us. “Thank you for this, Soren,” Abbott said. “I needed this more than I knew. The view was amazing, wasn’t it? I think we could see all the way home.”

“I think you may be right.” Covering a yawn, I clicked the fob and unlocked the car. “So many towns scattered around with all the darkness in between.”

“And the crescent moon with that star sitting right at the tip.”

Although the wheel had lights, we had been able to turn off the lights on our pod at will, giving us a better look at everything below. And above. When we stopped at the top, that moon had hung almost right above us. “Kind of magical, I’d say.” I opened the door and waited for him to get in then closed it.

Abbott fell asleep about five minutes into the drive, head tipped back and an occasional little snore. I didn’t blame him, but as the driver, I had to stay awake. A drive through a coffeehouse helped with that. I felt a little guilty not buying Abbott a drink, but since he didn’t stir, and I didn’t know what he’d like, I took a chance and bought him a sparkling apple juice. He could always drink it in the morning if he wasn’t thirsty.

My Americano gave me the boost I needed to stay alert for the hour on the road, and as we exited the highway, Abbott straightened in his seat and stretched. “Oh my gosh. I went right out and left you all alone. I didn’t snore, did I?”

“You were tired.”

“Ugh. I did.”

“You were very peaceful and I was only envious I couldn’t join you. I had to stop for coffee. Got you a juice, if you’re interested.”

“My mouth is so dry.” He took the bottle from the cup holder and twisted off the cap. “Thank you for thinking of me.” Tipping it back, he took a long drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Very. Sexy.

I walked him to his door, and after Abbott unlocked it, he turned and faced me. “It was such a special night. I’ll always remember it.”

“Does that mean you will accept another invitation from me?” Because the his wording could have been goodbye. For more than the evening.