Romantic Picnic For Two

The evening air hung heavy and hot, unseasonably warm for April. As the sun sank down, hovering just over the mountains in the distance, its angry glare blinded Tanya as she walked westward. Cursing herself for forgetting her sunglasses, she shifted the weight of the pack on her shoulders, letting a rivulet of sweat slip down her spine. Her feet angrily protested her choice to place fashion over function as the leather of her sandals chafed the back of her heel and sides of her toes. But Tanya didn't stop or slow. She moved forward, watching the trees in the distance grow closer with each step.

When she finally reached the shade of the aspen grove where he waited, her yellow sundress clung to her thighs and back. Her mascara ran down her cheeks and her hair stuck to her forehead. As she removed the pack it revealed deep red welts worn into her bare shoulders.

Tanya opened it and pulled out a lovingly handstitched quilt, spreading it over the ground. Carefully, she unwrapped and put out two elegant place settings at his feet, complete with long stemmed crystal goblets.

“I made all your favorites,” Tanya smiled as she opened up the three storage dishes she had lovingly packed. “And I found a bottle of that sparkling lemonade we had on our honeymoon. Remember, it was at that cute little Italian restaurant on the coast.” She started to giggle as she dished up the food. “The same place you tried calamari for the first time. I’ll never forget that look on your face when you asked why it was so chewy.”

Tanya kept up a steady stream of story telling between bites of food. As the sun fell slowly out of sight, she reminisced about their past adventures, all they shared in that first perfect year of marriage. All too soon, she finished her meal and scraped the leftovers from his plate back into the storage containers, carefully repacked their wedding china and crystal, folded up the quilt and reluctantly slung the pack back onto her sore shoulders.

“I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe I'll bring calamari,” she smirked coyly before heading back down the long road to their home.

He watched her go without a word. In silence he waited beneath the aspen trees all through the night and next day. Finally, a figure dressed in yellow to match the glowing sun appeared in the distance, limping under the weight of a full pack and the aching of her blistered feet. When she finally arrived, she was squinting in the brightness of the setting sun, her dress clung to her from sweat, and her face was streaked with the melted remains of her make-up.

He waited, as she unpacked their picnic, spreading out the quilt they had been presented on their wedding night so long ago. The tattered blanket showed much wear from hundreds of picnics under the trees and stains from countless tears.

“I made all your favorites,” Tanya's smile didn't reach her eyes and made his heart ache as he watched her unpack the same dinner she set out every night. “And I found a bottle of that sparkling lemonade we had on our honeymoon.”

When she giggled, he could hear the hollowness that echoed from lonely nights filled with heartbreak.

He longed to wrap his arms around her as she recounted the same stories from that long ago year they shared. His food sat untouched, while she swallowed each bite without tasting. All too soon, she finished as the twilight sky turned purple. She repacked everything and hoisted the weight of what should have been back onto her shoulders.

“I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe I'll bring calamari,” her voice cracked as years of loneliness pooled in her eyes.

She could feel him watching her as she walked home. They both knew this ritual would have to end before either of them could move on. Everyday she promised herself it would be the last time. Tonight she'll finally tell him goodbye.

But every night she told him she'd be back tomorrow, maybe with calamari.