Friday, August 31, 2012
Marc heads downstairs to see what the Tavern offers in the way of dinner and sees Rowan standing at the bar. He smiles involuntarily, remembering their date. She's easy to be with, easy to unwind with and drop-dead gorgeous to boot. Of course, I might be a tad biased....
He stops to talk with Monty, places an order for nachos and buffalo wings. He waits till his order is delivered, then makes his way over to Rowan.
"Greetings, m'lady. Join me for dinner?"
Rowan's jaw drops and her eyes open wide in stupefaction. "Lord and Lady, what are you eating? How can you have gotten so big eating this stuff?"
"You know, you're right. Monty!" The marmuur ambles over. "Add some ranch dressing to my tab."
"Right away." He returns in a moment with a small bowl. Marc signs the slip, and...
"Join me?" Rowan rolls her eyes. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Does that mean you don't want to join me for doughnuts tomorrow?"
She sighs and they find a booth. Marc immediately tucks into his cholesterol-heavy repast, but after a while he notices that Rowan isn't eating. Her eyes look haunted.
"What's up? You look down." She raises her eyes to his and his are sympathetic. "Pandora - the lady who owns this place - she had a miscarriage this morning."
"Oh, no." His lips move silently, then - "How's she holding up?"
"As well as can be expected, maybe even a little better. Of course, she has a remarkably supportive family, and most of the customers here know her and feel for them."
"Hang on just a sec, I'll be right back."
He makes his way back to the bar. Monty's eyes open a little wider. "Wow, you were hungry tonight. Want a refill?"
"No." He presses a crisp twenty-dollar bill into Monty's hand. "I'm not sure of funerary customs around here... apply this toward whatever rites the family practices."
"It isn't necessary - "
"Yeah, it is. Just do it."