On A Dark Desert Highway

 

    Photo by John K Photo

It was the perfect end to the perfect day. We stood pressed together on the terrace, his arm wrapped around my shoulder, my hand wrapped around a nearly empty glass of champagne. It was cool out, after all it was February, but it never really got that cold on the Central Coast.

“I think this is the place,” I whispered, as we watched the sun set into the crashing waves of the Pacific Ocean, just beyond the bluff.

I turned and gazed into his hazel eyes, and he smiled at me. “Yes, I think we found it.”

“Sorry to disturb you folks,” a voice came from behind us, “but we are closing down the grand ballroom now. Please feel free to continue to enjoy your drinks at the fireside bar.”

I swallowed the last of my champagne and deposited the empty glass on a table as we made our way to the parking lot. Andy didn’t have a drink since he was driving.

We were just outside of Stockton, about halfway into our two our trip home, and I was being mesmerized by the cadence of the yellow lines passing in the headlights of our car. “Boy, that champagne made me sleepy, I’m glad I’m not driving.”

“Really?” Andy answered, “it was only half a glass.”

I shrugged, fully aware that he couldn’t see me in the dark car as he concentrated on the road ahead. “All that fresh salty air probably has something to do with it as well.”

A moment later I reached into the back seat and pulled out the bag of goodies we had collected at the Seascape Wedding Fair.

“Let’s see, so I think we found our florist, our photographer, our venue of course, and, oh!” I exclaimed as I shuffled through the brochures and business cards that filled the bag.

“What?”

“I cannot believe we forgot!!”

“WHAT?!?”

Smiling I pulled out a clamshell to-go container, “we still have to choose the bakery for our cake!” I popped open the top to reveal eight bite size squares of cake from two different bakeries. “what flavor do you want to try first?”

“Surprise me.”

I selected a white cake with some kind of pink jam filling (strawberry? raspberry?) and shoved it in his mouth. Then, after a moment of internal debate, I chose a chocolate piece and took a bite.

“Yum” I exclaimed after I licked the last bit of frosting off my fingers.

As I began contemplating the next piece I would try, Andy started quietly singing.

“Is that Hotel California?”

“Yeah,” he replied, I could hear the mischievous smile in his voice.

“Okay, but are you singing desert highway, or dessert highway?” I snickered.

“What do you think?” he answered, “Now give me another piece of cake!”