My Parent's Reconciliation Vacation (excerpt from Proverbial Woman), Part VI

Centered upon the coverings sat a beautiful Waterford Crystal vase from their wedding reception. Filled with a dozen of Baby pink roses, flanked by two large, beautiful soft-burning candles, whose dancing flames immediately turned the tint of her wavy auburn hair into a picturesque sight that would have inspired the likes of Rembrandt—the whole scene seemed reminiscent of a timeless portrait.

Also placed before them was a set of ivory-colored, porcelain plates banded in 24-karat gold with intricately etched detailed dates marking memorable events of his family’s history. The center of each plate displayed a replica of the family’s crest, along with their names and wedding date beneath his parents’.

Included in the setting were two gold-rimmed champagne flutes of the finest crystal. They were given as a set, along with the vase by his parents as gift on their wedding day. The silverware belonged to the hotel. It was also of the finest metal. The restaurant allowed only its wealthiest guest to use the gold-plated instruments.

He later confessed he contemplated bringing the set that goes with the family’s heirloom. But being that Grandpa Anthony went through great lengths to get them back once he became wealthy, he knew if anything happened to them it would be devastating to him.

“Everything look so beautiful,” she whispered, with an overwhelmed look in her eyes.

“Is everything to your approval, Madam?” asked the maitre`d, as he approached the table.

“Yes.” She replied, admirably.

“Good. My name is Nick! If there is anything…anything you guys need, please don’t hesitate to ask. Gabriel will be your waiter. Enjoy!” he added, before turning and walking away.

“Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Romero…Welcome. My name is Gabriel. And I’ll be your lifeline to fine dinning tonight. Shall we start you guys off with a bottle of our finest, Don P, 1983?”

“Yes, please,” injected Tim. “I can see this is going to be the start of good friendship.”

“Indeed sir,” he answered, as he moved in next to her.

Watching as he began to pour, in a casual glance she noticed the familiar detailing encircled beneath the gold rim. Engaging in a more attentive look as she raised the glass up before her eyes, surprised at the sight of their names and wedding date etched in the crystal, she suddenly began to smile uncontrollably.

Suddenly bubbling over in excitement, just as she was about to speak she looked down and noticed the plates belonged to them as well. “Honey, no you didn’t!” she excitedly yelled.

“Yes, I did.” he answered, “I had some time on my hands so I thought I would go through our wedding boxes in the guest house. I wanted to surprise you. And at least recapture that special day when I lives had truly begun.”

“Oh, you sweet man…my life begun the day I met you. Thank you so much for coming into my life. You are so good at loving me. And especially at this when you want to be,” she added.

“At this? What do you mean?” he asked.

“Good at being yourself…a romantic man,” she tenderly replied, as she smiled.

“My Rose…” he whispered, before adding. “Your smile could disarm the intrigue of night. And wake the innocence of a morning sun. And after its sentimental rise, charm the glory away from its shine.”

“Are we talking about me or the flowers?” she jokingly asked.

“Both,” he humorously replied.

“No, but seriously. That was romantic. It is beautiful, just like everything else you say and do for me,” she added, smiling as she took a long sip.

“More champagne?” he asked.

“Yes, please.”

As he reached over and grabbed the bottle from the cooler on the stand next to him, out the corner of his eye he noticed the waiter moving in a hastily pace toward them. Throwing his hand up and waving him back, in a gesturing manner he indicated everything was fine and to be left alone.

“Shall we get down to business,” he whispered as he refilled hers and then his own.

“You mean the business of you and I,” she whispered, with a constraint look in her eyes.

“I can see you still haven’t lost your touch.”

“No. I haven’t lost it, just merely misplaced it. But I’m starting to feel the returning of it,” he added, as they both took a sip.

“I can tell. But then again, you’ve always known how to work your magic and pull the strings at the same time. Of course you know that some people would call what you do an art form.” she added.

“What are you saying? Are you saying that I can touch your heart and toil with your mind at the same time?” he asked, as his voice took on an inquiring tone.

“All I’m saying is that you have made a big difference in my life. The way I think. The way I live. Even the way I look at myself in the mirror after coming out of the shower. Usually when a girl becomes a woman and runs across a man suitable to marry, she immediately starts to measure his potential up against the attributes of her father.

But you…you are nothing like my father.