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Just as quickly as they disappear, they return bearing the first course of the meal on big serving platters. I pick up the little placard menu from the center of the table, telling us about the local farmers featured tonight. The courses are all designed to highlight their seasonal produce.
When the meal is nearly finished, Steve comes out of the kitchen and approaches our table, sliding two desserts in front of us. “Enjoy.” He strides off, checking in with the waitstaff and guests as he mixes and mingles. He makes an excellent host, charismatic and intelligent.
I pick up the fork and take my first bite. Little bursts of tart flavors fill my mouth. For a deceptively simple dish, it's incredibly crafted.
“Holy shit,” I murmur before quickly taking another bite.
“I know, right?” Matt’s making quick work of his. “Andrea’s been trying to get him to do this for the last couple of months.”
“What, the fundraiser?” It’s one of those times when I feel left out of the small-town loop since everyone else seems to know what’s going on.
“Open up the space next door and expand the menu.” Matt scoops up a nut and crunches down. “Sometimes, I think she’s more ambitious than Steve.”
“She’s incredibly talented.”
Steve steps up to the front of the restaurant and thanks everyone for coming before telling us to head over for the real party. Chef Owens doesn’t make another appearance, so Steve stands alone at the door and shakes people’s hands as they move to the open area next door.
I slip my shoes back on, and Matt moves to my side so he can pull the chair out for me when I’m ready to stand.
I easily slide my hand into his and lean into him. We linger, letting the other diners leave before we make our way.
“I’m glad I’m here with you tonight.” I’m relaxed from the wonderful meal and Matt's company. I look up at him and find us nearly eye level because of the heels.
“Me too.” He leans close and kisses me, light and quick, before ushering me forward.
We step outside, and Matt runs to the truck to retrieve the donations. He has to hold the box with both hands, and I find myself missing the closeness of his arm around my waist.
The doors to the event space are propped open, and a DJ is set up in the front corner, music already starting to pour from the speakers. The wait staff circulate with drinks, and people who weren't here for dinner have started to arrive. A small crowd of high school-aged kids is already dancing, and more people are watching from the street through the big plate-glass windows.
Matt carries the box to the corner table, where canned goods are stacked high. Boxes are piled underneath, and it makes my heart feel good. This is a community that clearly cares about its members.
I linger by the door while Matt says hello to a few city council members looking a little uncomfortable in the more energetic atmosphere. He breaks off the conversation with a handshake before returning to my side.
I grab a pair of glasses from a passing waiter and offer one to Matt. He takes it, and our fingers brush together. I sip the sweet, sparkling juice and shiver.
I take a big drink, holding the now half-full glass in one hand and blindly reaching for Matt’s hand with the other. I’m standing in front of him, so I lean back against the solid wall of his chest. He’s moved us to a quieter space in the back, and for the moment, I'm content to people-watch.
“How many of these people do you know?” I ask, curious.
“About half. There are a lot more tourists here. He’s been running ads in the paper and on social media.”
We fall into a companionable silence, and I sip the rest of my juice while more and more people join the party. When the music eventually changes to a slow song, Matt leans close and speaks near my ear so I can hear him. “You want to dance?”
I nod and pass my empty glass to one of the waiters. We stay in our quiet corner, and I loop my arms around his neck.
“I should warn you I’m not very good at this. Your toes are in imminent danger.” I smile and try to follow his lead.
“Neither am I, but I trust you.” He puts his arms around me and pulls me closer. We sway from side to side, not dancing but still attempting to keep the beat of the music. I rest my head against his shoulder and sigh.
The first song blends into a second slow one, and we keep swaying together. Not saying much, just being.
