icfreeman

As time moved on, Eric and I became more serious.  Hardly anybody knew about our relationship and we were careful to go places where we wouldn't bump into people we both worked with.  We had an off day together, and I wanted to make it special by surprising him with a romantic dinner at a nice restaurant.  I thought about the many different places we could go and decided on trying something completely new and different.  So I mentioned to him that I wanted to take him out to dinner.  He agreed and asked where were we going. 

"Somewhere you've never been before," I say-- not to mention that I've never been there before either.

Well, Eric hates surprises.  He starts pestering me about where we are going, what he needs to wear and what style of food will be there. 

"How about we go and play tennis?" I suggest to get him off of my back.

"OK," he agrees.

We get dressed and head out.  As we are driving, Eric starts pestering me again about where we are going.

I look out of my window as we pass a set of shops and see one shop, The Blue Willow, which sells gifts and accessories. 

"Fine," I grunt, "I'll tell you.  We're going to The Blue Willow."

"I've never heard of that," he replies.

"I wanted it to be a surprise.  Now can we please think about something else!"

We get to the tennis courts and play for an hour before heading back.  As we get to the apartment, he starts questioning the facility and types of food that they offer.  After an hour of trying to dodge his questions, I finally give in.

"Alright, dammit!  We aren't going to The Blue Willow.  I made that up.  We're going to The Melting Pot," I yell.

A look of apprehension comes across his face as he realizes that The Melting Pot is actually a fondue restaurant. 

"Baby I don't want to go there," he protests.

"Eric, you've never been there.  It will be something different and special."

"It's not fondue, it's fon-don't."

"Well just try it out once, for me."

He reluctantly gives in as we get dressed.  He wears khaki pants and a button down shirt as I step into a black and white dress and begin curling my hair.  Soon we are ready to go.

When we arrive at the restaurant, the lights are dim and there are very few guests in the building.  Eric admits he's nervous about ordering because he's never had this before.  We sit down and browse the menu.  Eric selects a bottle wine before ordering the "Big Night Out," which is a four-course meal meant for two people. 

The first course comes and we are surprised about how good the cheese fondue is.  We received bits of bread, carrots, celery, cauliflower and apples to stick in the fondue.  My favorite was the apples.

Next is a greek-style salad that was followed by the main course.  The main course is a broth with different seasonings that we will use to cook the food.  We have about 12 different sauces to use and about nine different types of food to cook-- everything from pasta and shrimp to fillet and chicken.  We start eating with both of us scared about how everything with taste.  It was good and we had to eat slow because we had to "cook" each individual food item.

We were stuffed, but the next course was coming up.  We chose the amaretto white chocolate fondue for dessert.  It was amazing!  Although I thought I couldn't eat another thing, just trying the dessert quickly changed my mind.  Strawberries, marshmallows, cheesecake and brownies were some of the selection to dip in the chocolate, and they were phenomenal. 

After paying the tab-- OUCH!  We went home and reflected on the days events.  Although he did force me to ruin the surprise, I was proud that he was willing to try something new.  And now, every time we pass The Blue Willow, we smile and recall that day.

Eric and I fell into a rhythm.  Since I could pretty much modify my schedule and dictate when I wanted to work, I tried to sync my free time and off days with his.  Generally, we would spend time outdoors playing tennis.  My (or our) apartment didn't have a tennis court, so we found a court that was nearby.  We'd stop to get something to drink (Gatorade) before continuing to our spot.  Eric gradually introduced me to tennis.  From volleying to serving, he was patient as I learned the game.

One day, as we were driving the mile or so to the court, we had an argument about decorating styles.  I wanted a picture in the living room, but his suggestions and my ideas were complete opposites.  In "our" modern style living room with abstract shapes, Eric wanted a black and white picture of trunks of trees in a forest or some painting of a bistro or cafe.  Not that these are bad paintings/portraits, but they simply don't match the decor of the room.  So as our argument became heated, we pulled in the parking spot next to the courts.

"I can't wait to cream you at tennis today," he vented.

"Yeah, same here," I responded.

We enter the courts, set our stuff down and take our positions.  We volley the ball for a few minutes before we feel we can begin a match.  Eric takes the ball and bounces it a couple to times.  As he bends his knees slightly and scrunches his face, I know he is going to serve a fast ball that I probably won't be able to return.

His focus continues as he tosses the ball in the air and swings his racket with all of his might to hit the ball and send it soaring. 

"Whack!" the ball flies into the air and is abruptly stopped by the net.

Phew, I thought.  That would have been a fast one, and I wouldn't have been able to hit it back.

Try number two.  Eric is a little irritated, but harnesses his anger for the next serve.

"Whack!"  Another hard serve, and just like last time the ball flies straight to the net.

Ha! That's two in a row.  Poor net.  I know the balls were soaring with some speed on them, but better the net than me.

Try number three.  He's more determined than ever to get the ball over the net.  The fact that he is using his anger and getting no where makes him determined to get the ball on my side of the court.  Again he strikes the ball hard and again it hits the net.

By now, it is funny.  I smirk, but try not to laugh.  Eric looks pissed! He purses his lips as his face turns red.  He sets up for his fourth try.

He tosses the ball up, and "whack" it flies right into the net.

I can't take it.  I start laughing.  Good touch right?  Yeah, Eric is really "creaming me".  And by "cream" I mean not being able to start a serve.

This really angers Eric, and before I realize that he has served again, I hear a "twack" where the ball has hit the net.  I lose it.  I start laughing so hard that I can't even stand up anymore.  I fall to my knees holding my stomach as tears start falling down my face.

Eric is so mad that he takes as many balls as he can get and starts hitting them--or throwing them-- at me.  I don't know... by this point I have so many tears from laughing so hard that I can't see anything too clearly.  I just hear soft "thuds" of where the balls are landing all around me.

Finally, after composing myself, we decide that tennis may not be the best thing to do anymore, so we pack up our belongings-- and the dozen balls scattered around the court-- and head back to the apartment.  A cold shower and a few minutes alone really help to diffuse any hard feelings!