Project T: Prologue

      "I  swear.  I don't think I have ever met a man who eats a little as you do.  Are you even listening to me, Jakey?"
       Jacob slowly finished chewing his food, holding up a hand to show Susan that he was, in fact, listening to her.  He then picked up his glass of water and took a sip, carefully avoiding the hairline crack on the rim.  "I heard you.  I just wanted to finish eating before I responded.  My Dad gained over thirty pounds the first few years after he graduated college.  My brother almost as much.  I don't want to be caught in the same boat."  It took him almost thirty years and a near heart attack before he lost all that weight.  But I told you that before.  And I don't like being called Jakey.  "Besides, I want to save some room for desert," he responded.
     "Well, it better be.  The rest of this hasn't gone over too well."  Susan picked up an asparagus spear with her fork.  "I couldn't even tell what some of this was."
     "That is a white asparagus spear with a thyme pesto sauce.  I know it's not the usual color, but it really is quite good."  It had paired very nicely with the roasted chicken breast in a sharp blood-orange sauce, atop a purple cauliflower and bleu cheese puree.  Even after her comments, Jacob noticed that she he eaten less than half of what he had.
      Hue, a pun on the name of the head chef Hugh Grambling, with the hottest new restaurant in Cincy.  Its theme was garish colors paired in unusual ways, but the flavors matched in fairly well.  There had been a waiting list when it first opened.  Jacob thought he was lucky when he was able to get reservations for tonight, even before he had much a plan.  However, only about three-quarters of the tables were full, and it was already mid-evening.  The normal "live" music had been cancelled due to problems with the sound system.  Cracks were showing and not just in the stemware.
       "Anyway, the drinks are good,"  Susan continued.  "Waiter.  Will you please get me another one of these?"
      Marco, their server was already clearing the table as she asked for her drink.  He politely nodded as she finished off her glass.
    "Are you sure of that?  This will make your third of the night.  Perhaps you should wait until you see what is for dessert before you make your decision."  Jacob tried to steer her towards changing her mind.  "At least pace yourself more.  Have some water, like I am.  You will feel better; trust me."
      He wasn't drinking tonight.  He needed a clear head for what was about to happen.  It wasn't just because the bartender didn't even last three weeks at his old place, the River Roll Bar-and-Grill.  In his opinion, this guy wasn't up to par with the rest of the establishment.
     "Fine.  Just comeback in a few, once the desert comes,"  Susan said while placing here now empty glass with the other dishes on Marco's tray.
       The desert cart was only two tables away, three if you counted the empty one beside them.  The floor was quiet.  Even when they had music, Hue carried a sense of solitude that made people not want to talk, a quietness that emphasized color and flavor over other sensations.  As the cart stopped at the next table over, Susan couldn't help but stare at the chocolate and pastries.  "I can hardly wait for the cake.  They all look scrumptious.  Hey, what is she doing?"  Susan exclaimed.
       As the server wheeled the dessert cart away, the maitre d' followed close behind her.  He was carrying a rather large serving tray with a covered dish in the center.  "May I present to you a specialty of the house," he announced as he sat the tray on their table.  Some of the nearby diners craned the necks to see what the fuss was all about.
     "I knew I recognized you!"  Susan exclaimed.  "You're that Willy who worked with Jakey at that stupid dive.  No wonder he was able to get into a place such as this."
    "Please madam.  I prefer to be called William or Will among my friends.  Or 'Sir'  when I am working.  If I may continue?"  the mairtre d' inquired.  "The pastry chef has prepared something rather special for tonight.  May I present to you the summer tarte tatin."
    "What in the world?"  Susan asked as William lifted the cloche to reveal a golden brown lump with a large opening on top, filled with a dark, sweet-smelling substance.
    "It's actually sort of a mix of a tarte tatin and a clafoutis.  There is a flaky crust with a layer of Meyer lemon cake crumbs topped to kept the pastry crisp, and it is topped with a lightly spiced blueberry compote.  It is sort of a free-form tart or pie from France.  It is something new they are trying here."  Jacob felt the need to explain.
     "A pie.  A stupid pie!  Only you would go to a high-end restaurant and order a pie.  You know something, this is it.  I have had it with you.  I always thought that you might make something out of yourself, then you go and do something like this to prove me wrong.   You will never be anything out-of-the-ordinary.  You will just keep on working at that dump they call a bar while playing at being an intern at that distributor."  Susan started as she began pounding at the table.
     "Susan, what are you doing . . ."  Jacob tried to cut in, but Susan is not the type of person who can't be stopped once she starts.
     "I know that you asked your parents for the money to get the reservation here, probably with some help from Willy.  You just added to their regular dole for your other expenses.  It doesn't mean anything to you, does it?  I don't mean anything to you, either.  I have had it!"  Susan shouted as her last fist pound hit the pie, knocking it off the tray.  "I AM LEAVING YOU!  Don't try to follow me or call me.  I just want to get out of here."
    As she stood up, she bumped into another server, the one who was bringing her the cocktail she had asked for.  Glasses flew up, spilling drinks over the table and all four people.
    "I am not paying for that."  Susan said as she patted down her dress.  She slowly walked towards the front of the house, barely paying any attention to the hushed diners at the tables she passed.  A subtle nod from William, and the manager at the front followed her.   
  "Don't worry about her.  Eddie will make sure she gets home safe.   Now what about you.  What just happened?  When you placed your reservation, you said tonight could be special.  I don't think you meant this."  The maitre d' slid into the now empty seat, waiting for Jacob to explain.
     "Did I ever tell you how Susan and I met?  It was a few years ago, just after I got that bartending job at Luciano's.  I wanted to splurge on something small with my first paycheck.  I decided to get a blueberry pie from Knudson's Bakery.  I have been going there since high school; it has the past pies in the city.  They make them only in-season, and once a batch sells out, the bakery is done for the day.  That's just the type of place they are.  I was in line, next to be serviced, when the woman ahead of me grabbed the last pie of the day.  I could have ordered something else, but I was in a hurry to get to class.  I tapped her on the shoulder and asked her if she could change her mind so I could get the pie.  It was Susan.
     "She just smiled a bit and drew me to one of the small tables beside the windows.  She asked me why I wanted this pie.  So, I told her about my job, my paycheck, the mini-celebration, and that I was in a hurry to get to my business class.  Start of term for my final years, and all of that.  She went back to the counter, and got a small fork.  She said I could have one slice, the one she was making with the fork.  It was about a quarter of the pie.  She then said I had to eat it there or I wouldn't get any of it.  I grabbed the piece and shoved it into my mouth whole.  I almost choked from it.  Still, I managed to eat it in one bite.  I then asked her why she did that, but she was already walking out the door before I finished my sentence.
     "That Friday, she came to the restaurant.  She must have been listening more than I thought.  She stayed at the bar for an hour, as she told me about herself.  She was a freelance fashion reporter, just move into town and working on a "special assignment" for the newspaper that could lead to a full-time gig.  I don't know why, but she came to the bar every weekend, until I asked her out on a real date about two months later.  We were steady by February.
     "She was wrong about a few things, though.  I used part of my grandfather's trust, to get a multi-year lease on the apartment.  Barely halfway through.  By the time it's over, I will have gotten enough interest on the trust to take it nearly back to start.  I had the internship upgraded to part-time a few weeks after I got my MBA.  I actually quit tending bar a few weeks ago.  I did ask my  parents for some help, but only to help her pay of some of her bills, not just to pay for the reservation.  And, of course, for this."
     He slowly lifted the now crumbled tatin and dumped it onto his plate. blueberry filling and crust splattering everywhere.  He then took the tray's stand and unwrapped the foil around it, revealing a jewelry box.
     "Soon after a was hired, I heard that one of the senior agents wanted to be sent cross-country, so he could be closer to his aging father, who was having some medical problems.  I knew that I would be the one to replace him, and I was right.  I got the promotion today.  I will be full-time starting Monday.  I placed this reservation early not just because it was had to get, but because I knew I would have a least one reason to celebrate.  This would have been the other one."
     He opened the box to reveal a silver ring with a small diamond on it.
     "This is my mother's, actually her mother's, engagement ring.  When my brother eloped, the honor of using it fell to me.  I asked her if I could make some small adjustments to it, and she agreed.  My Dad warned me that Susan might not be ready, but I ignored him.  I guess he was right.  Susan was so wrong about me.  I have a future; I had it all planned out, and she was going to be a part of it.  But not now."
     "Let Marco clear the rest of this up.  I can comp you for the meal." Will said.
     "Not yet.  I already paid for everything, including the tip.  I can't put the blame on you for this.  Besides, I still want this tatin.  It's not that messed up.  I could never pass up good pie.  And who doesn't like blueberry."  Jacob slowly lifted a forkful of filling into his mouth, slowly chewing.
     "Your ex, apparently."  the maitre d' said as his stood up.  He motioned for Marco to stop clearing the mess Susan left behind, and left Jacob to his dessert.