May, 2013
A Rose By Any Other Name Still Has Thorns
"What are we doing for Suzy's birthday?"
Ducky's innocent question put me into a momentary panic. I knew it was somewhere between 70 and 85, even though she looked way, way younger. 70-something going on 45. I live in mortal fear that she'll retire, even though she swears she never will.
Her kids and grandkids were doing an at home party, so I didn't have to suddenly come up with party bags and games like I would for Lexi, Mother, or Charlie. But we needed to do something. She stayed late frequently, so a homemade meal at our house wouldn't be a big deal. "Um… dinner out? C'est Bonne? Or George Washington Slept Here?" Those was the biggest dinners out I could think of.
"That was where my mind was heading. Or perhaps dinner and a show? Maybe the Gaslight?"
"Oh, that would be crazy fun! And Mother might even be able to follow the show."
The Gaslight Theatre had been around since I was in college, maybe before. They spoofed movies and TV shows, both new and old, adding pun-laden songs and encouraging attendees to yell "BOO!" at the bad guys and cheer heartily at the heroes. And they had a restaurant attached that had a decent menu.
"Can we get tickets this close?"
"Hang on…" I pulled up their website. "Okay, we probably don't want to do her actually birthday, that's on a Wednesday. And the kids are doing her party on Saturday night. How about...Sunday matinee?"
"That would be fine. Let's see… The two of us, Mother, Lexi, Suzy, Lily, Evelyn and Charlotte. Six adults and two children?"
"My math agrees. Oh, we should check with Suzy first—"
"Good point. I'll call her while you check reservations."
While Ducky called home on his office phone, I played with the seating diagram. I was getting frustrated; there was a chunk of four here, four there, one of six, a couple of twos and a few singles, but nothing that would accommodate our entire tribe. Same for the following Sunday. I growled under my breath and clicked back to the original Sunday.
"Sunday will be fine," Ducky reported back.
"Great, except we have nowhere to sit." I refreshed the page. "Nothing better than—oh, thank you, god of theatre!"
"Dionysus?" Ducky laughed. I didn't respond. "What?" When I still didn't answer, trying to work my magic on the computer, he repeated, "What?" more insistently.
"Hang on, hang on…" I entered our MasterCard number and crossed my fingers. "Yes!"
"Yes?"
"We've got front row seats! Someone just turned back a block of twenty!"
"Good timing." I could hear his grin over the phone. "Dinner?"
"Mario's?"
"That sounds wonderful."
"Lunch before or dinner after? The show is at 3:00."
"Hmm… Perhaps lunch would be best."
"Okey-dokey, I'll give them a call. See you at home, Sweetie."
I was stuck on hold for fifteen minutes. Mario's is popular, even if you aren't going to the Gaslight. But finally I got a perky, "Marvelous day at Mario's, this is Felicia, how can I help you?" on the other end of the phone.
"Hi, I need to make a reservation for this Sunday—" We would probably sit and talk for a while. "Noon? Twelve-thirty? Eight people, and it's the birthday of one of them."
"I can do twelve-thirty. Would you like a birthday cake?"
"We're going to bring our own."
"Okay, no problem, no cakeage fee." Corkage for a cake? Cakeage? Okay, whatever. "What's the name of the birthday person for the reservation?"
"I'll be paying for it, don't you need my name?"
"No, for special events like birthdays or anniversaries, we use the name of the celebrant so we can sing to them."
Ooh, public humiliation. Rock on. "Okay. The name is Suzy."
"S-u-z-i-e? S-u-s-i-e? S-u-z-e?"
I rolled my eyes. "They all sound the same," I said with a laugh. "Doesn't matter."
"All right!" she said. She was way too perky for the lack of caffeine I had in my system. "See you Sunday!"
I shook my head as I replaced the receiver. Someone was clearly at the beginning of her shift.
With everyone so spread out, it was easier to just meet at Mario's. Mother was as excited as a kid—more so; Lexi was sitting quietly, one hand firmly on the bakery box between them. "Oh, it's been so long! Do they still have—" Mother looked confused. "It's…" She gave an annoyed huff.
"Describe it," I said patiently. Ducky was busy driving the sedan and negotiating traffic.
"String. Fat, thick, string. And… fried chicken."
"Chicken Alfredo on fettuccine?" I guessed.
"Oh, yes!" she said, relieved. She went back to holding on to the other side of the cake box.
"It's one of their specialties. I'm sure they'll have it."
Ducky gave Mother his arm and they made a slow walk to the entrance where Lily, Ev and Charlie were waiting. I followed behind, carefully carrying the Black Forest cake (Suzy's favorite) with a riot of purple rosebuds (also her favorite), and Lexi stayed a couple of steps behind me for safety's sake.
"Wasn't sure whose name to give, but there's only one eight-person birthday at 12:30," Ev said cheerfully. "They're shoving tables together right now," she added as Suzy streaked up from the other direction.
"I'm so sorry!" she gasped, half laughing. "Late to birthdays, late to weddings, oh dear! Pileup on I-95, nobody hurt, but a lot of cars are gonna be cashed out!"
"You're well in time," Ducky soothed. "And so long as you weren't part of the collection of vehicles, all's good."
There was quite the crowd outside waiting, so we didn't bother going in just yet, and Ev had clearly alerted them that we were there.
"Michael, table for two."
"Batson party, table for three."
"Misty, table for two."
People came and went quickly. I checked my watch: 12:28.
"Table for eight!" Must be us. "They all sound the same, doesn't matter, table for eight!"
I like to think it was a sense of humor, not being as thick as a brick that made Felicia write the reservation that way. I really, really hope it was a sense of humor…
My given name is Catherine. There are over sixteen ways to spell it (the most unusual one I've seen is Katharynne), but "they all sound the same." That is my usual response, but only once has it backfired. The friend who was lunching with me laughed herself silly.