“Because it’s Sunday and we’re ahead of schedule. I want you and Mikey to have a relaxing afternoon, then come back here for dinner at seven, my treat.”
George looked at Zac, dumbfounded.
“I’ve listened to you two go on about your bad dates for days now. Figured it’s time you both have a good one. Let me make that happen. Let me host you two tonight... here.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. Just show up.”
His first instinct was to refuse. But there was a need in Zac’s eyes that softened George. This was more than just a good deed. This had to do with their partnership—the trust, the bond, thelove. Zac wanted to show his appreciation the best way he knew how. And far be it from George to take that away from him.
“OK,” he said. “You win. Butonlyif you do something simple, something that you can serve, and then get home yourself. You and Ginger deserve a good night too.”
“That’s the whole idea, George. I want you guys to be alone.”
* * *
It was a chilly, mid-November day, but the sunshine was glorious, and George and Mikey spent almost the entire afternoon outside.
Even though Mikey had been delivering mail in DC for a decade, he had spent surprisingly little time doing the touristy things that George was more than happy to share with him. They took the metro down to the Smithsonian, and walked a generous section of the mall, beginning with the Washington Monument, the World War II memorial, and down to the Lincoln memorial. After that, they crossed over to the MLK, FDR, and Jefferson Memorials, making a large leisurely circle around the Tidal Basin before the sun was sinking low and they headed back in the direction of the metro.
“It’s so beautiful,” Mikey said, in awe of the water reflecting the Jefferson Memorial.
“You should see it with the cherry blossoms in the spring. I can’t believe you’ve never been down here.”
Mikey shrugged. “We did field trips in school, but I was little. I dunno... I’m from Baltimore. I guess when you’re this close to something, you just... take it for granted. Other than my sing-alongs at B.J.’s, I pretty much associate the city with work. But that stops today. I want to see those cherry blossoms... with you, George Patras.”
George smiled. “It’s a date.”
“What about you? Have you ever done the touristy stuff in Baltimore?”
“Some. I’ve been to the Inner Harbor a few times.”
“Ever been to an O’s game?”
George shook his head.
“Aw, come on—really?That settles it. I’m taking you to Camden Yards and you’re taking me to see the cherry blossoms.”
“Are you already planning our dates for next spring?”
“I am. You got a problem with that?”
“Not at all.” George kissed him. “I like a man who plans.”
* * *
When they returned to David’s it was just before seven. The restaurant was dark except for the candlelit tables, one of which was completely set for them.
They sat down, and the kitchen door opened. But instead of Zac, a tall, pretty woman with auburn hair entered. She was carrying an open bottle of Chianti.
“George and Mikey, I presume.”
“And you must be Ginger,” said George, standing to greet her. “Zac said I’d be meeting you soon.”
“It’s me, in the flesh. But please, sit,” she said, pouring wine into their glasses. “It’s great meeting you both... but tonight is for you guys.I’ve been instructed.”
“Far be it from me to overstep my partner’s instructions.”
