"I look forward to sitting here, every year," I said to Corb, as I spread out the menu at The Patio in Provincetown, took in the gorgeous afternoon, and relished the opportunity to rest my feet after three hours of non-stop walking. "And by the way, the waiter's hitting on you."
"The waiter is not hitting on me," said Corb, smiling.
I just shrugged, since of course, I knew better. "Didn't I have the lobster and mac last year?" I asked, getting down to the serious business of menu selection.
"Yes, and you said it wasn't that good."
"Are you sure? It looks good to me, now." I scanned the menu, looking over my remaining lobster options. Ah, no problem. I'd just have lobster and asparagus ravioli, instead. "Corbie, can we live here all year long, when the kids get a little older?"
"I think it'd get boring, after a while," said Corb. "Especially during the winter. And besides, when the kids get older, we're going to move to New York City, remember?"
"Hmmm. Well, that's true. Then maybe we could buy a place here as a summer house."
"Maybe," replied Corb, as the waiter who had the hots for him approached us again. "Water, please. With a lemon."
"I'll have a flirtini," I said, trying desperately not to make the word sound as silly as I knew it sounded. At the table next to us, four guys were talking about producing shows on Broadway. I heard the word "playbill.com" bandied about at least a hundred times. "Poor Corbie. Not being able to drink or anything, because of the medicine you're on."
"I'll have my last pill on Sunday," he said, continuing to glance over the menu. "But I think if we're going to have a second place, we should get something in the country, for the fall. I love the country in the fall, when the leaves change."
"Okay, so we'll get a country place for the fall, and a place here for the summer. And, we'll live in New York all year long, when we're not busy staying in our other places." I placed the menu down, having settled on my choice. "You know, though, we really should settle on a fourth location. Just so we have something for every season."
"Well, I hate the winter in New England," said Corb. "How about someplace warm?"
"Florida?" I suggested.
"Not interesting enough," said Corb, shaking his head. "How about the Blue Coast, around the south of France? They have lagoons and pink flamingos there. It'd be pretty."
I nodded, as our flirtatious waiter stopped by with our drinks. We ordered our meals, and I watched with increasing amusement as the waiter paid undue attention to Corb's meat selection. As he walked away, Corb looked at me and grinned. "Well. Maybe you're right."
I lifted up my flirtini and placed it against my lips. I swallowed and grimaced. "Ugh. This drink tastes like talcum powder."
It's fun making plans for the future with the person you love.
A photo of camera-shy Corb, with his smitten waiter standing behind him. Wonder what Corb was doing with his iPhone? See here: