On Thursday, he sent me a text saying:
You are cordially invited to join me on the rooftop for dinner tomorrow night at quarter past seven. The favor of a reply is requested.
If you have seen the movie “Kate and Leopold,” you will recognize this.
I texted back and said, Accepted. Thank you.
Friday night, I came home from work expecting to see the table set and smell dinner in the oven, on the stove, on the grill, something.
His truck was in the driveway, but I couldn’t find him anywhere and there was no sign whatsoever of dinner.
Then I had a thought – what if he is planning to serve me dinner in “the fort”?
I think I may have written about the fort before. This is a two-story structure that he has built out in the woods. (We have about 4 acres of trees.) I think he started it as a place for the nieces and nephews to play when they came to visit, but it has since become more of a man-cave type of thing for him.
Part of me has no problem with him building “the fort.” Everyone needs a hobby, an outlet. But part of me resents him spending time and money on this building when the house needs so much work.
But whatever. Back to dinner.
About fifteen minutes after I got home, he came into the house and apologized for being late. And my suspicions were confirmed – dinner was to be served in the fort.
I told him that I didn’t want to eat dinner at the fort and could we please eat dinner at the table under the tree.
He asked, why.
Let me tell you why.
After we moved here, we got a pony for our daughters. We loved that pony. We had her for a few years and then one day she got hurt. She didn’t heal and a month later, we had to have her put down. That was the most horrible month of my life. Even now, years later, I feel extremely emotional writing this.
Anyhow, the place that she was put down and is buried is about ten feet from where my husband later decided to build the fort. I hate going out there because it is where Melody is buried.
I told him why and he brought the dinner to the table under the tree.
In the mean time, my daughter is tired and hungry. Since I didn’t see any dinner when I came home, I didn’t know if there was dinner. I told her I didn’t know about dinner, but if there wasn’t dinner for her, I would make her some. After seeing him, I asked him if he made dinner for our daughter. He said she wasn’t home when he was making dinner so he didn’t make dinner for her, but there was enough for her.
I took her dinner to her and went out to have dinner with my husband. Not too much later, I heard her crying in her room, so I left my dinner and went to her.
She was upset about being so angry and unforgiving (mostly towards him), believing that if you don’t forgive, you won’t be forgiven. And she feels she can’t forgive and therefore won’t be forgiven. And therefore is screwed.
I spent the rest of the evening with her, talking with her, helping her to calm down and be a tiny bit more peaceful.
Finally, I took my shower and went to bed.