A friendship dinner and preaching to the choir
“What have you been doing lately?” she asks.
“Well, we had some folks over to dinner,” I say.
“What was the occasion?” she asks.
Without thinking, I answer, “It was a “friendship dinner.” “Well that’s a good reason,” she says, and off down the road she goes to feed her horses.
Fact is, our “Friendship Dinner” takes a lot of fixin’. I am about to put the chicken Parmesan in the oven when the doorbell rings.
“Karen is home sick in bed,” Jack says before handing me a beautiful salad she’s made for our dinner. I go into a deep funk. Jack is a genius as a builder, and so is Steve. It would have been such fun to hear them compare notes. Karen was a wiz-bang teamsters negotiator in Alaska for many years, and Wynne, Steve’s wife, is an inch away from getting her master’s degree in library science. Two exemplary women, each from a different side of the ledger. What an opportunity this would have been for a rapacious encounter of their unique talents. Fortunately for our “Friendship Dinner,” Rebecca and Chiara (exchange student from Italy) are with us.
As soon as Steve arrives, he and I deliver a platter of the chicken Parmesan to Jack and Karen and return home. Dinner is served. Everyone raves about my chicken Parmesan, but the high point of the evening is Wynne’s almond cake, served with plump blueberries in a blizzard of whipped cream.
The conversation drifts to memories of distant triumphs, to times when we were different people, and to who we are today. Life without friends is too bleak to consider. Friendship and good food make life a better place to live, so don’t waste another moment. Have yourself a friendship dinner, and bon appetit.
Ron Walker lives in Smith Valley. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.