The last dinner

Last week, on mutual agreement, David and I packed our traveling bag and got on the bus heading for Qufu, the sacred city where the great philosopher Confucius once lived and studied. It’s about 20minutes’ travel. Usually, with nowhere to go, we just choose to hang around the neighboring towns or cities on weekends. There, we spent a happy day strolling around rows of fancy souvenir shops and art galleries. It was not until dark that we remembered to came back. It was 7 a.m. when we got off the bus. David suggested we have dinner in a Sichuan Hotpot Restaurant, explaining that the mutton would provide me with more energy and warm my stiff body. On hearing this, I breathed hard on my palms and rubbed my hands.

The moment David set our luggage aside, I opened the menu and began my selection. I ordered three plates of mutton, one plate of beef and some vegetables, including potato slices, spinach, and onions. David added some frozen tofu, shrimps and a plate of dumplings. Later, a waitress came over with a kettle. She took the menu and poured some white liquid into the pot, which was prefixed on the table. Then she switched the gas on and adjusted the fire. No sooner had the soup started to bubble than I put some potato slices in and stired. I bet I could eat an ox then! Noticing my nervous expression, David chuckled under his breath. I suppose he must be hungry as well, but he is a guy who always maintains his composure whatever. As the soup boiled over, David turned down the gas and put in some slices of mutton. Then began the race to scoop up meat from the pot. The mutton should be fished out with a high speed, otherwise it will go tough.

During the next hour, we just enjoyed our share of food separately, not bothering to care about each other. I managed to ladle some soup to David’s bowl, but was refused with a serious look. “Take care, You mustn’t burn yourself!” I moved my mouth to one side, convincing that our relationship changed much after marriage. There are not many formalities or trifles, and polite remarks are left out. If we do need to exchange views, we just speak it out bluntly. I wonder if it is an intimacy or estrangement. But in the last year when we were dating each other, we always ended up in a fancy restaurant. Every time we sat face to face, David and I would stand on ceremony. When a new dish came, I pushed it to his side, and then he pushed back, teasing his arm is longer than mine. David is humorous. Maybe as time goes by, we become much closer. Our relationship is far beyond the simple connection between husband and wife, but transforms into the affection among family members. David loves me so much and I too.

Finally, we each have had our stomach full. Not expecting to waste a grain, I took up my chopsticks and forced a few morsels in. David put down his fork and leaned back, “Emma, I must tell you something important.”

“What is it?” I looked up, surprised.

“Would you go back home and spend a few days with your parents?” David assumed a serious look.

“Why?” My voice a little blurred, I feel my heart pounding hard.

“I will be away on a business trip. Maybe you prefer to stay with your parents.” David responded in a feigned flat tone.

Heaving a long sigh, I felt relaxed. I had thought …

People hate David just because he always purposely makes a mystery of simple things. I realized he just intended to make me a fool. I replied in a casual way, “Certainly, you can go anywhere you like. This is our last dinner.” We both smiled.