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The first appetizer came soon enough. “It’s tuna ceviche with lemon.”
Grandmother was looking at it suspiciously. I had a feeling I’d chosen this place completely wrong. The feeling only intensified when the appetizer came, and it was a beef tartare.
“My boy, I can’t stomach this. I’m sorry.”
“No problem.” I waved to the waiter who sprinted toward us.
"We forgot to tell you that my grandmother doesn't eat raw meat."
"Could you bring me something else instead?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.
"Yes, of course. I'll be right back. I’m sorry for not inquiring about this. What do you prefer?"
“No need to apologize. That’s on me,” she said. “Do you have anything with chicken?”
“Yes.”
After he left, she glanced at me again. "Have you had a chance to meet Penny?"
I chuckled. I knew she’d inquire about it.
“Yes. Twice."
"Oh! How come?"
"First time, I ran into her at the grocery store. The second time, she fell down and scraped her knees when her dog pulled at the leash too strongly. I offered to help her."
"Well done. I'm so proud of you. She's a nice girl, isn't she?"
"I'm sure she is, Grandmother. But I don't like where you're going with this." I wasn’t irritated with her, but I knew I had to be firm, or she’d see this as a green light to continue with matchmaking plans.
"I'm not going anywhere," she said quickly just as the waiter came with another plate and put it in front of her. "Oh, a pie. Thank you." After he left, she leaned over the table. "Finally, something I understand."
She winced after the first forkful.
"Definitely doesn't taste like a pie, though. It’s got chicken, but it’s odd."
I broke out in laughter. "Grandmother, how about we just go somewhere else?"
"Yes, please. I know you had the best intentions, but I have a feeling I won't enjoy any of this food. You know what I'm in the mood for? I saw a place that sells burgers the other day that I've been looking forward to trying it out."
"Sure. Let’s go." I'd left my credit card when I made the reservation, so I only needed to tell them to charge it. I didn't have to wait for the bill. Grandmother was clearly eager to get out of here. When we passed the waiter on our way to the entrance, his face fell.
"Grandmother, you go ahead," I said. "I'll be right with you."
I took out a fifty, putting it on his platter. "That's for you."
"I'm so sorry," he said.
"No, it's on us. I chose the wrong restaurant for my grandmother."
"Okay," he said, reluctantly walking away and pocketing the tip money.
Forty minutes later, we arrived at the burger place.
“It’s a drive-through,” she exclaimed. “How wonderful. We don’t even have to get out of the car.”
"Yeah, sounds about right," I said as we stopped by the order window.
