Stella had shown a trooper’s spirit, serving Frank a lovely lasagna dinner on the lanai furniture they’d moved inside (due to the resulting fiasco when the old dining set was put in storage while expecting ‘new’…which was delayed-damaged-order cancelled); but her muted longing for proper table and chairs was unabated.
Oh, she’d received his 18-stem armful of Picasso roses and $5 Hallmark Valentine with sweet-smiling gratitude, kisses—but whenever she passed through the empty dining area he’d dubbed the “dance floor”, she sighed, turning taciturn…and a too-quiet-Stella was rarely a good thing.
“I know what—let’s go for a drive!” Frank said with extravagant enthusiasm; “maybe we’ll happen on an amazing local site—an extraordinary ‘something’ we’ve overlooked, since moving here.”
Stella’s face—an e’er-changing canvas (and domestic barometer)—moved from an expression of worry that he’d spiked a tropical brain fever, to one of more hazy, benign suspicion; finally she shrugged acquiescence, and gathered her jacket and handbag.
The furniture store windows shouted in fluorescent paint, “Store-Wide SALE—WE Even PAY the Sales TAX!”, as Frank grinned at Stella—who took a mere 14.5 minutes to select a large rectangular dining table suitable for a family of 8…and barely stifled a squeal, on learning it would be delivered that evening.
At home, she chirp-chattered about the beauty and size of the heavy table—its burnished brown surface, ebony legs; the matching well-constructed chairs and 18″ center leaf (heart, be still!)—and punctuated each repeated detail with cheery chorus: “it’s a steal of a deal, Hon!”…..until Frank interrupted to announce the kitchen’s slow-draining sink had completely backed up, and suggested she call the maintenance-super, “Now”.
© Stella Carousel, 2017 ~ All rights reserved.
Image ~ Underhill’s Furniture