Chapter 9

“We’re out in the country, now,” Jason said, “there’s no traffic. You can open your eyes.”

Aja looked out the car window. “It is pretty out here ... the farm houses. Is that a whole field of sunflowers?”

“It is, indeed.”

“So pretty.”

“The place we’re going was built in the eighteen thirties. It’s on the historic register. Originally, it was a stagecoach stop. It’s been a popular restaurant since the sixties. The owner is second-generation, now.”

“That’s kinda neat.” Aja placed her hand on Jason’s knee and stroked his thigh.

“Hey -- no distracting the driver.” She snatched her hand away. “I was only kidding.”

“Don’t even joke about that sort of thing.”

“I’m sorry, Aja. Feeling a little more relaxed?”

“A little.”

“Here’s the place, now.”

“There’s a little grocery, a gas station and the inn,” she remarked.

“And, a handful of houses. The food here is really good.”

“It would have to be to get folks to drive so far out in the country.”

Holding hands they approached a podium and addressed the hostess. “Reservations for Brown,” he said.

“Table for two ... Would you prefer a booth or a table?”

Jason turned to Aja. “Table, don’t you think?”

She nodded. “Yes, I’d prefer a table. I’d have difficulty in a booth in this dress.”

The hostess showed them to their seats. Aja removed her hat and placed it on the table. “Wow,” she remarked, “look at this menu.”

“This place is renowned for their game menu,” Jason replied.

“Look -- tenderloin of boar again rears its ugly head.”

“I assure you that here, you’ll get a meal instead of half an appetizer.”

“And the prices are so much more reasonable.”

Their server approached the table. “Good evening. I’m Marcie. Would you like to start off with something from the bar?”

“Water is fine with me,” Aja replied.

Jason pointed to the wine list. “Can we get a bottle of this on ice to open with the entree?”

“The Cava? Certainly. Would you like more time to review the menu before ordering?”

“Yes, indeed,” Aja replied.

“Understood,” Marcie said with a smile. “I’ll get your bubbly on ice.”

“I’ve had their prawn scampi,” Jason said. “It’s excellent.”

“I don’t know what to choose, it all looks good.”

“You can’t go wrong.”

She placed her arm on the table with her palm up. Jason reached for her hand and she squeezed his. “You’re right -- I do like this place. I’m just sorry it isn’t closer to home.”

“I’m going to order the duck ragout.”

“I’m not sure I could eat venison,” she said, “although the huntsman stew does look tempting.” She looked up at him. “Okay, I have it. I will go with the prawns.”

Marcie returned with an ice bucket holding. She showed the label on the bottle to Jason. “Yep, that’s it.”

“We’ll let it chill in here,” she said and pushed the bottle into ice in the bucket. “Are we ready to order?”

“I’ll have the duck,” Jason said, “and the prawns for the lady.”

“Very good.”

“And, antipasto for two.”

“Excellent choice.” Marcie picked up the menus and left.

“Why did you order the antipasto?” Aja asked.

“Because it’s to die for.”

Aja stretched her arm onto the table again. Jason took her hand and massaged it with his thumb. “I am having a really good time,” she said. “It’s a real treat after what happened earlier.”

“Don’t bring that up.” He continued squeezing and stroking her hand. “Do you see those two chubby women at the table behind me?” he asked, sotto voce, leaning toward her.

“Yes,” she whispered.”

“I don’t know if they realize I can overhear what they’re saying.”

“Your hearing must be better than mine ... although I do have a touch of tinnitus that’s bothered me since I was a girl.”

“They are not happy seeing a Black girl and a white man demonstrating affection.”

“Is that a fact?” Aja stood from her chair, leaned toward Jason and kissed his lips. She sat back down, her hand over her mouth and suppressing giggling.

“They did not like that at all,” he remarked.

“This is something we’re both going to have to learn to deal with,” she said. “There are folks who do not like mixed-race couples and that’s on both sides of the color line. There’ll be white folks who won’t like seeing you with a Black girl; and there’ll be Black folks who won’t like seeing me with a white guy.”

“Someone talking shit about the woman I love does get my dander up. It makes me want to go over there and say something.”

“Don’t do it, Jason. I think the best approach is to ignore them. If we respond, if we let what they say bother us -- then we’re feeding the bigotry. We’ll never change their minds, so the bigotry wins.”

“Understood.”

“You should ask your mom how she and your dad dealt with it.”

“Good idea. I’ll ask when I call.”

“What sort of things were they saying?” Aja asked.

Jason shook his head. “I don’t want to repeat any of it, it was so racist and hurtful.”

“Can’t you give me an example of one of the milder things?”

“Seriously, Aja. You don’t want to know.”

“Now, you’re teasing me.”

“I’m not teasing you. All right -- I know you can never let it go when you want to know something. I’ll need to apologize beforehand.” He planted his elbow on the table, held his forehead and drew in a breath. “One of them said that when you walked in with that hat on, you looked like an organ grinder’s monkey. I’m so sorry, Babe.”

Aja stared at him, her jaw slack. “You were right -- I didn’t need to hear that.” She picked up her hat and a tear ran down her cheek.

Jason reached for her hand. “Aja -- don’t let the bigotry win. You know I love you in that hat. You know I love your sense of style. You look terrific in that dress and the hat is part of the whole outfit. They’re just a couple of ignorant, bigoted country bumpkins who wouldn’t know style if it came up behind them and smacked them on their fat asses.”

She brushed away a tear, looked up at him and smiled. “You’re right. Of course, you are absolutely right.” She placed her hat on her head. cocked it to a rakish angle and tapped it with her fingers. “Style one; bigotry zip.”

Marcie brought a bowl with mixed greens plus chunks of cold cuts and cheese. She set down two plates.

“We serve ourselves family-style,” Jason said and scooped some onto Aja’s plate. He then filled his plate. “Blue cheese?” he asked, picking an accompanying bowl filled with the stuff.

“Yes, please.” Aja scooped a forkful. “This is good,” she said. “I hope I have room for the entree.”

“I have never been able to make it to dessert here,” Jason remarked. “I’m always too full.”

Marcie returned to their table. “How are we doing, folks?”

“I need to save room for the prawns,” Aja said.

“Can we box what’s left for take-away?” Jason asked.

“Certainly. Your entrees will be out shortly.”

Aja put her hand against her abdomen. “I really have to pace myself tonight.”

Marcie returned with the entrees. She placed the prawns before Aja and she regarded it, slack-jawed. “That is an entree,” Jason remarked.

“It sure is. It looks like enough for two.”

“We can always have them box any leftover.”

Marcie set the duck before Jason. “That’s ample, too,” Aja remarked. She cut a prawn in two, picked up one piece on her fork along with some angel-hair pasts. “This is really good, Jason.”

“I told you -- you can’t go wrong here.”

Aja began to spear another prawn when she dropped her fork and stood. “Jason!” she gasped. He stood and turned around. One of the women from the table behind him was standing and in obvious distress. She held her hand to her throat and flailed the other.

“Help! Help!” her tablemate screamed. “She’s choking on something.”

Aja rushed over. “I’m a doctor,” she said. “Please give me room.” She stood behind the woman and put her arms around her, pressed her fists against her solar plexus and pushed. “Jason -- do you know the Heimlich? I don’t have enough strength.”

“Yes,” Jason took her place and performed the maneuver. “No good,” he said, “she’s too obese.”

The woman lost consciousness and collapsed to the floor, her weight carrying Jason with her.

“Roll her onto her back,” Aja instructed. She looked up at their server. “Marcie -- go to the kitchen. Bring me a small, sharp knife -- a paring knife will do. It must have a sharp point and blade. The sharper the better.”

“Right away.”

“Also, a plastic soda straw, the thickest you have.”

Marcie dashed toward the kitchen. By now other patrons were standing in a circle around the supine woman. Aja loosened her collar and spread it. “Jason -- get a couple disinfectant wipes from my cosmetics case.”

“Her lips are turning blue!” her tablemate gasped. “Oh, my God! She’s dying!”