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“Hi,” I say, “we have a reservation for Huxley for six p.m.?”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“We’re a bit early.”
“That’s fine, we’re not busy yet as you can see. Would you prefer to sit inside or outside?”
“Out?” I suggest to Elizabeth, and she nods.
“Come this way,” the waiter says. He leads us to the outdoor seating area, and over to one of the tables that’s looking out across the lawn to the gorgeous view.
“Thank you.” I hold Elizabeth’s chair as she sits, then go around and take my chair.
“Can I get you a drink?” the waiter asks, gesturing at the wine list. “Or would you like to do a tasting?”
“Ooh, yes please,” Elizabeth says, and he smiles.
“White and red?” he asks, and I nod.
“I’ll go and organize it,” he states. “And I’ll take your food order when I return.” He walks off.
I lean on the table. “It’s an amazing view.”
“Oh yeah,” she says. I glance back at her—she’s looking at me with a smile. “You look nice today,” she states, a little shyly.
I look down at myself. I’m wearing black jeans, a white shirt with a blue paisley pattern, and a gray blazer. “Thank you. And I like your dress. The color suits you.”
“I’m glad you like it,” she says. “It’s new.”
“You bought it for today?”
She nods and flushes.
I hold her gaze, smiling.
She pokes me beneath the table with her toe. “Look at your menu,” she scolds.
Chuckling, I lean back and pick it up. “Okay. What are you in the mood for?”
“Nothing too heavy.”
“No. Got to make sure we’re not too full when we exercise.”
She laughs, keeping her gaze on the menu. “Behave.”
“I’m trying.”
We spend a few minutes discussing the options. The waiter returns with two wooden racks holding six small glasses, each holding a different wine, and places them before us. He gives us a card each that contains a few sentences about each wine and says he’ll be happy to expand on any of them if we want more information. Finally he takes our order. We’ve decided on a platter so we can pick and choose as much as we like, and he tells us that’s a great option and goes off to put the order in.
“Right,” I say. “Let’s start with the white wines.”
Gradually, we work our way through the six glasses, reading the explanations and trying to see if we can pick up the tasting notes. We try a Chardonnay, a Pinot Gris, and a Viognier, and then move on to the reds: a Cabernet Sauvignon, a Merlot, and a Syrah. The food comes halfway through: a gorgeous platter of mixed meats, cheese, crackers, homemade dips: hummus, beetroot, and Kiwi onion, and fruits like apricots and figs, all the flavors mixing well with the wines.
We finish the tasting and decide to order a bottle of our favorite: the Merlot, which bursts with dense chocolate and plum flavors.
The sun is sliding behind the hills, and the waiter comes over and lights the candle on our table, then pulls one of the deck heaters closer to make sure we’re not too chilled by the evening breeze.
I’ve deliberately tried to keep the conversation light, because I know she’s nervous. We talk about music and movies, and our friends: about Mack and Sidnie’s wedding, and how pleased we are that Mack has finally found someone who understands him.
