Member-only story
One Last Meal
Heineken and forgiveness
Raymond finally located the street address, comparing the number with the piece of paper in his hand. But seeing Meredith out front told him he was in the right spot, and diverted his attention from the business sign of the establishment. He hurried across the street to her, keeping an eye for the occasional vehicle out and about on a late weekday afternoon in the city.
“Hey, Merry! I was starting to worry I couldn’t find this place.” He approached his ex-wife tentatively, not sure how she would greet him, but she wrapped her arms around him in a warm hug. And then stepped back a pace while she checked him over, still holding his shoulders.
“Oh my, Ray! You said you lost weight, but…” She shook her head. “That coat just hangs on you! And we should get you a hat, that ‘distinguished hairline’ of yours is doing nothing to keep you warm. C’mon, let’s get you inside and give you a warm meal.” Meredith took his arm and started to usher him inside, but Raymond froze when he saw the business name on the door.
“Merry! It’s a… it’s a bar! I can’t be in a bar. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I’m sorry, I’m so—” Meredith tugged him along inside with her.
“It’s a pub, Ray, it serves pub food. Like our first date, okay? Just because we’re old enough to order off the beer menu, this time…
