“I remember that huge Jeep your dad had. It was so high up I was always afraid if I fell out, I’d fall on my face long before my feet hit.” She said. We laughed at that. His was a 1977 Cherokee Chief with the big tires and it was a doozie of a step. Any woman in a dress or skirt would have to hike it up pretty high to manage getting in or out. She commented that she liked this one better as it didn’t try to catch her dress and make it ride up. I gave a half-smile wondering why she commented on that. We walked up to the Maître d’ and asked for our names. I gave him mine and he found it on the reservation list.
“It is a pleasure to have you and your lovely wife here to dine with us tonight. “ He said reaching for her hand then bowing at the hip and kissing the back of it gently. My eyebrows launched upward then I frowned and she gave me a firm look and barely perceptible shake of her head. When the Maître d’ risen from his bow at the hip, she was smiling again at him.
“This way to your table please.” The Maître d’ said and turned to stride purposefully into the dining rooms. Aunt Jean lifted her hand palm down again and I took it leading her to follow in the Maître d’s wake.
On the way to our booth, I caught a few of the men glancing at my aunt. Others openly stared. It was fairly easy to tell who was admiring and who was leering. I reacted to the leering in a not so subtle switch to protect mode as some of the leering ones made eye contact with me and the meaning clear. I immediately felt my grip on her hand tighten slightly as my jaw set and six foot two inch frame tensed as if readying for battle. She looked at me and whispered something in my ear I couldn’t process right away in my state of mind. I did relax but only a little until we were seated in a mostly unoccupied section of the dining area. A wall separating this area from the main dining area gave the impression of a separate restaurant. Curtains crossed the open doorway blocked the view and most of the sound of the other restaurant patrons and I relaxed considerably once we were seated. This area was considerably more quiet as I looked around with a quick glance to take in the thicker carpet as well as the drapes on the walls. Our little privacy booth was also decorated with drapes and other material that trapped noise. Sound did not carry in here very well at all so patrons could have comfortable conversations without being overheard.
“My name is Morgan. If I may be of any further assistance, please notify Stephan, your waiter.” He said while handing out a wine list. Morgan bowed again, turned and headed to the front desk. I started to open my mouth but Aunt Jean was quicker.
“I’m moving over here so I can see the wine list too.” She said as she moved around to my side of the booth. It was just wide enough to fit two people comfortably. Confused about Morgan’s welcoming statement, Aunt Jean sat down next to him and he dumbly gave over for her to hold the other end of the wine list.
“What will you be having tonight? Beef, chicken, fish or pork?” she asked me. My mind still dwelling on Morgan’s statement didn’t respond and she asked again.