Clouded Rainbow Read online

The setting sun burned through the rain clouds. The weather changed abruptly from gloom to bliss before nightfall would engulf the city. Roger steered his SUV across the Pleasant Place Bridge as he admired the rather calm water.

  “I guess the storm is over,” he said to Lois.

  Both were listening to a classical CD. It was part of a master collection of two hundred classic themes from yesterday performed by today’s modern orchestras. Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony softly echoed inside the vehicle. The couple loved to listen to music without vocals. Lois was particularly fond of being chauffeured around while lying back on the cushioned seat with classical piano melodies resonating in her ears. She had a contented smile on her face as she watched Roger cross the bridge. Up ahead, tall skyscrapers glistened from the angled sun’s warming rays. A bounced glimmer caught Roger’s eyes; he lowered his visor. The drive was all too familiar to Roger, as it was his way into his office every morning. The major difference was that he usually drove with the sun at the opposite, less-blinding angle. He saw his building for a moment and tried to pick out his window on the twenty-fifth floor, but the turn to the concealed restaurant district prompted a shuffle of the wheel.

  As Roger drove, the city transformed from work to play. Couples trekked to the various restaurants and eateries. Business professionals seeking a happy hour retreat walked in and out of the pubs on the corners. Lois was quiet, which was normal for her. Just her simple presence in the car was all that mattered to Roger. He turned periodically toward her to catch a glimpse of her dark dress conforming to her body. He also received a fresh hint of her subtle perfume. As they turned on “Fourth Street,” the establishment came into view. Roger could see the sign towering over the road, “The Hideaway.”

  Outside, several valet drivers scurried, parking the high-end vehicles of the arriving patrons. Lois always liked the feeling of attuned service performed by the usually eager valet staff. She enjoyed giving the typical twenty-something men something to ogle as she swung her exposed legs to the ground.

  Roger shifted the SUV into park, took out a folded ten-dollar bill, and then slipped it to the college-aged attendant who greeted the arriving couple.

  “Hey, thank you, sir,” the young man replied with a smile.

  With Lois on his arm, the pair walked inside. The place was more than simply a five-star restaurant and lounge; it was a posh hotel offering guests the very finest in artistic luxury with classic artwork scattering the dimly lit hallways. Full size replicas of the famous works of Van Gogh and Rembrandt, to name a few, greeted the curious clientele. Artwork was even hidden on the ceiling, surprising a guest when he or she had least expected it. The hotel aspect allowed the restaurant to stay open twenty-four hours offering meals, snacks, and appetizers to the refined guests or hungry travelers. Liquor, however, was only served until the two o’clock morning cut off, re-opening when the hour hand struck seven. Despite that, a four a.m. shrimp cocktail or even a full-course meal was available, delivered by the eager restaurant staff.

  Roger and Lois walked past Munch’s The Scream toward the restaurant as the cool, filtered air hit Roger’s clean-shaven face. Lois immediately widened her eyes to take in the dimmer lights.

  “This gets fancier every time we come,” she said to Roger.

  The layout was all about simple seclusion. There were three levels of floor, which gave one an ant’s eye view of the upper levels when walking in. Large candles lined the walls on both sides of the entryway and provided a feeling that one was entering the confines of a cavern. Servers, dressed only in black, bustled around and seemed to navigate the darkness with ease. Behind a podium was a cute hostess in her twenties. She wore a black outfit with just enough cleavage to force a smile from an approaching male, who usually was the one doing the talking.

  “Good evening. Do you have a reservation?” she cheerfully asked.

  “Yes. Should be under Belkin,” Roger responded.

  She glanced in her book, but the glance turned into a stare.

  “Um, I’m sorry, sir. I don’t see your name. When did you book your reservation?”

  “I called today. About two o’clock,” Roger responded with a puzzled expression.

  Lois looked at Roger with disapproval.

  Roger, however, lucked out; it was not his fault this time. The hostess checked another sheet at the bottom of the pile and immediately gave the couple a bashful smile.

  “Oh, yes. Here it is. I’m so sorry, sir. I just started my shift. Please follow me.”

  The hostess grabbed two menus and led the way. Lois held back a step, an accusatory expression still painted on her face.

  “I thought you booked these yesterday,” she pressed.

  Roger was caught in a small, but real, lie. He preferred to think of it as a fib, the kind that husbands kept under their pillows. All he could do was smile and reply, “My little dynamite.”

  They walked up a small flight of carpeted stairs to the second level, where their table awaited. Lois admired the other couples. An elderly man and woman held hands while they waited for their meals. A woman about Lois’ age at another table raised her fork to let her man sample her baked ziti. All Roger could think about was eating. The sight of food made him hungry and their long walk gave his eyes a feast.

  “Is this okay?” the hostess asked.

  “Yes, thank you,” Roger replied as he held the chair for his wife. She smiled as she always did when he was so cordial.

  “Your server will be right with you,” the hostess confirmed as she gave each a menu before returning to her podium.

  Roger and Lois took a moment to take in their new surroundings.

  “This is nice. They changed the theme since we were here last time,” Lois remarked.

  “They had a glass theme before, right?” Roger observed.

  Lois squinted her eyes in confusion. “I’m not sure. How come you remember things like that but you forget what’s right in front of you?”

  “Well, I don’t know. I just have a lot on my plate right now.”

  “Your plate looks pretty empty to me right now.” Lois gestured to the clean bread plate in front of him.

  Roger didn’t know why he remembered certain insignificant tidbits, some of which were downright odd. Both buried their heads in their menus. Lois immediately focused on the wine section. She loved the warm feeling of having a glass of wine and the immediate tipsiness she would feel, which only enhanced her lighthearted conversation with Roger. Before each had time to digest the menu’s words, a burly twenty-five-year-old server gravitated toward their table.

  “Hello there. My name is John and I will be your server. How are you two doing this evening?”

  “We are fine, thanks,” Roger said.

  “Are you ready to order?” he asked.

  The question caught both of them off guard. They barely had time to peruse the menu. Although they had eaten at the restaurant a few months back, the menu was updated extensively along with the theme. John noticed their hesitation and offered to return in a few minutes. Lois, however, was ready for her wine.

  “How about some wine, Roger? Do you have a Lambrusco?”

  Lois loved the sweet taste of a deep red Lambrusco. Although some said it tasted too much like simple grape juice, her taste buds always told her to order it.

  “Yes we do. One or two glasses?” John responded with a smile.

  Lois playfully nodded her head as she raised an eyebrow. She knew John was asking if he should bring two glasses, one for each of them, but she felt like playing with the two boys. Roger wasn’t much of a drinker. Even in college, he only drank socially, but he didn’t mind an occasional glass of wine. His answer was easy. Sharing the same drink with Lois made him feel closer to her for some reason.

  “She could probably drink two at once, but I’ll take the second. Thank you,” Roger chuckled.

  “Ha, I’ll bring that right out,” John replied.

  Roger and Lois discussed the various dishes. Thi
s restaurant didn’t discriminate. They offered the best from Mexico, Italy, France, and even a touch of Japan, which was something new since their last visit. Both were feeling Italian dishes. The next decision was to narrow down the choices. Roger persuaded Lois to go with the lasagna. She thought for a moment and accepted. She liked how Roger took charge when she was indecisive. If Lois was torn between the blue and the red dress at a department store, Roger’s insight was usually the deciding factor. He chose to go with the spaghetti with meat sauce, something safe. He didn’t want to ruin the night with a bad case of indigestion that he often received after experimenting with unknown foods.

  “So, did you decide about our trip?” Lois asked.

  “Actually, yes. I was thinking London. I mean Paris would be great, but we don’t speak the language.”

  “But, what about the romance, the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower?” Lois retorted.

  “London has romance. Hey, I’ll be there. Romance is my middle name,” Roger coyly responded.

  “Romance is your middle name only on nights like this. Work is your real middle name. For our next trip, leave work at home. No more just bringing a book to read on the plane. Last time you were practically working from our hotel room.” Lois remembered that last year when they went to the Caribbean, Roger had brought a briefcase along from the office. The simple case turned into a portable desk as he focused more on client portfolios than on snorkeling.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll tell them I’m really on vacation this time,” Roger stressed.

  She grabbed Roger’s hand and caressed it. Her touch was warm and soft, which consumed his focus and put his mind on nothing other than his cradled appendage. Lois had a twinkle in her eyes as she softly whispered, “Then maybe we can start working on that family of ours.”

  Lois’ words made Roger perk up. He knew it was up to her when she wanted to start a family. After all, she had to carry the little tyke around for nine months. Before Roger could respond, John returned holding two tall glasses of red wine. He set one glass down in front of Lois, and then started to place the other glass in front of her. Both looked up at the brawny man and saw the smile on his face. He tried to add to the running joke from Lois’ drink order, and it seemed to work. He slid the second glass in front of Roger and asked, “So, have we decided?”

  “Yes. I believe we have. I’ll have the spaghetti. And my beautiful wife will have the lasagna,” Roger replied, taking charge. This put a smile on Lois’ face.

  “Good choices. Would you like the recommended sides with that?”

  “Yes. That’s fine.”

  John wrote on his notepad. “Will there be anything else?”

  “Yes. There is one more thing,” Roger replied.

  He stood up, gravitated to his wife’s side, and then held out his hand.

  “What are you doing?” Lois asked.

  “Just take my hand.”

  Lois placed her hand inside Roger’s grasp, and then stood up. Her eyes squinted as she looked at John, who shrugged.

  Roger reached into his pocket and removed the item he had carried with him from work, the item he had concealed inside his office desk, the item Lois had rested her eyes on last week during a stroll downtown.

  “Open it,” Roger said as he handed her the black case.

  Lois did just that and beheld the necklace she had fallen in love with in that store window.

  “You remembered!” Lois said.

  “I’d never forget tonight.”

  Roger kissed his wife deeply. Then he whisked her hair aside and fastened the necklace.

  John looked at them with eager eyes.

  “Uh, did you need something else, sir?”

  “I just wanted you to know that it’s our anniversary.”

  “I’ll make this a special night for you two.” John smiled as he scurried on his way.

  Roger and Lois sat quietly and basked in the shadowy, tranquil environment. Roger studied the diamond resting against Lois’ radiating skin and the way it sparkled in her brown eyes. This moment was one that Roger cherished. When he would have a few minutes to himself after a busy meeting or a late-night business conference, he would close his eyes and transport himself to a moment like this.

  Just as the couple enjoyed the silence together, a sudden outcry erupted from the entryway. Roger and Lois looked at the commotion, as did most of the guests around them.

  A bum busted through the entryway door and lunged toward the hostess. She screamed in fright from the vagrant’s unknown intentions. Without hesitation, the restaurant manager widened his eyes and hustled toward the intruder. He knew the occasional beggar would slip through the valet first line of defense and that these bums were more or less harmless, but their abrupt appearance was their involuntary downfall. The manager could not let this man disrupt the customers, his customers. The manager signaled to two muscular servers who sprang to action. Before the bum could cause any more disorder, the two servers ejected him out onto the concrete.

  Roger shook his head from the actions. While he did feel sympathetic to some of the truly needy beggars, he wished these people would just get a job and leave the civilized folks to eat in peace. Perturbed, he looked at Lois and barked, “Geez. The nerve of these bums!”

  Chapter 4