September 18, 2005

Two meals of note

Thursday night after swallowing a couple of neurofen I had roast dinner at the boy's mum's house and met both aforesaid mum and the elder brother for the first time. Big bro, who is based in Auckland, is incredibly sweet and I said to the boy later that it was quite reassuring meeting him and seeing the resemblance, how attentive they both are with the mum (who is in convalescence), and knowing that his chivalry isn't all an act. The boy seemed to handle the meeting all very well, even the part when the big bro and I became engaged in rather heated political discussion, but I found it all quite amicable compared to similar "discussions" with my whanau. And in those situations I'm used to being a minority and managed to not sulk when the mum said her little bit about small business and it became clear I was outnumbered three to one. I got a kiss from both the mum and the brother at the end of the night and left feeling pleased to have met them and that I'd made an okay impression. Not that I'd been that worried. The ex-mother in law is still buying me gifts after all....

Friday night we went to Il Casino for a work function as his team had made an outrageous profit the previous month or something. I got fancied up, even wore a little dress borrowed from Bear that she'd seamstressed earlier in the week and some little kitten heels bought for the occasion. My earlier guilt had been assuaged with a red rose and a little heart shaped lollipop. I'd never been to the restaurant before, it's a bit fancy, and I'd heard rumours of mafia and immediately envisaged a dark candle-lit room with lots of round tables and white linen and pasta and dark suits. But the private room we were seated in was very intimate old-age mediterranean, with a huge bust that looked kind of familiar in the corner, a fireplace, terracotta coloured walls and a beautiful long dark wooden table laden with glass. I drank too much pinot for someone on antibiotics, had scallops for an entree, king prawns for the main and shared a delicious little chocolate fondant dessert with the boy. After we'd eaten we wandered up some old wooden stairs that were part tree-hut part old luxury liner and led up to this gorgeous little lounge room above the restaurant that was painted an earthy teal and consolidated the nautical effect. The walls were adorned with white-boards with signatures and messages, and the boy pointed out a message from Ian McKellen "love from Middle Earth" or some such. There was a man getting bluesy/sexy on a grand piano in the corner, crooning Robbie and Rod and the Beatles. Everyone was quite boozed by this stage and singing along. And then it was just me and the boy sitting talking on the leather couch at about 12:45 in the morning, his hand playing with the zip on the back of my dress, and I couldn't remember feeling so blissfully happy in a very long long time. And not a fleeting bubble on the breeze kind of happy.

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