It was early Friday afternoon and I was to meet Debbie at O'Hare. Friday nights there was always a large contingent of my co-workers at the local watering hole, which at that time was Grisanti's. I had told a few who sometimes did not make it that I'd be there with Debbie, and many friends were looking forward to meeting her.
I met her at the gate, we got her luggage, and we headed for the car. Time had passed and circumstances had changed since last we saw each other. Twenty years earlier I has been just out of the Army and making $95 a week, and now she found herself climbing into a relatively new black and gold Cadillac Sedan de Ville. I think we were *both* pleased about that.
Luggage in the trunk, I drove to a restaurant and bar not too far from the Grisanti's we would head for later. We sat in the lounge, ordered drinks, and talked non-stop for several hours. She told me she had a return flight on . . . what? Sunday? Monday? I don't remember. I told her whatever was convenient for her was fine with me. Surprisingly, even after all those hours of conversation on the phone, we managed to find more old times to talk about - along with updates concerning current times.
A few minutes before five o'clock we hopped into the car and headed for Grisanti's, where a few of the regulars had already kicked things off. Debbie must have met thirty or so new people that night, and I was amazed to learn later that she remembered every name. Sometime during the first couple of hours another couple, Jack and Karen, claimed the right to have dinner with us that night at Victor's, a fine dining restaurant in Rolling Meadows, now defunct, alas. Another couple, Jeff and Cassie (see "Me and Cassie At a Ball)" reserved Saturday night for dinner at the Wellington in Arlington Heights (still there, I am happy to report).
Well, Debbie's introduction to the crowd at Grisanti's was a rousing success, and around eight or eight thirty four of us headed for Victor's. Dinner was as much fun, perhaps even more fun. Everyone got along and there were many funny stories told and much laughter to reward them.
I would guess it was around midnight when Debbie and I finally reached home. I retrieved her luggage and put it on the guest room bed, and gave her a tour of the house, emphasizing the locations of anything I could think of that she might want during the night (or in the morning, if she arose before I did).
I told her I was glad she had come, gave her a quick peck on the lips, and headed off to my bedroom. I took my shirt off and tossed it on the dresser and two seconds later her blouse landed on top of it. I turned and she was standing there unbuttoning her skirt and looking at me as if to say "You know I'm sleeping in here, right?"