Winning Her Heart

The stage was set. Tonight was the night.

He lit the simple candles on the table and set out the china that had been a wedding gift nine long years ago. The delicate flowered plates were rarely even pulled out of the buffet table anymore, but their bone color and lilac pattern brought back memories of the early days of marriage. He sighed, both in fond memory and regret at the loss of such simple times.

The oven timer went off. He checked his watch: right on time. The smell of roasted potatoes that filled the kitchen could only be rivaled by that of the grilled salmon he'd just put onto a serving dish. Spritzing the fillets in lemon juice, he turned to the oven and found only perfection: golden sizzling bite-sized chunks, glistening with butter and olive oil, the soft red skins sprinkled with a modest mix of fresh herbs. He quickly transferred the potatoes to a bowl and carried both dishes to the table.

The grandfather clock in the hall started its Westminster tune, and chimed the first of seven times. She would be home any minute. Moving to the fridge, he pulled out the wine that had been chilling there all afternoon and opened it, placing it in an ice bucket.

Salt, pepper, silverware, napkins, and wine glasses were all in their proper places. He rearranged the flowers he'd bought fresh for tonight in their vase, and sat to wait for her.

A moment later, he heard the front door open.