Saying Goodbye to the Bunny

Ha!  I’d like to see a showing of hands of those of you who thought that title meant I was retiring a favorite, um, bedroom toy.

Uh huh.  Yeah, I expected as much.

Damn, I’m good.

I’m sorry to disappoint.  That’s another story, and I call him Prince.

This week we retired a woman who had worked for my boss for 31 years, Bunny.  It was a sad and awkward day and I’ve been thinking of her quite a lot.  I knew that I wanted to write something about her but didn’t know how to make it fit.

Then in my twitter stream I was lead to a link to The Red Dress Club.  This week’s Red Writing Hood prompt was all I needed to get the brain working.

As I sat down to put on a little powder, I could hear the unmistakable sound of Old Blue Eyes’ The Way You look Tonight coming over the living room speakers.  Aah, Harry was in A MOOD.

I patted my hair.  After 15 years, Tina FINALLY got it right.  And she was able to get me in today.  Must have been a miracle.  Now where is that MAC lipstick my darling Emma bought me?

A moment later I felt his hands on my shoulders, his lips at my ear. “Darling, you’ve never looked more beautiful.”  That Harry, always the romantic.  Amazing he still said that about me, this 80 year old me.  His eyesight must be going.  He pulled me into his arms for a spin around the room.  He always was a great dancer.

“Why don’t you wear those patent red pumps of your tonight?”  ”Oh Harry, really?  I was hoping maybe we’d get a chance to dance this evening.  I couldn’t possibly make it through dinner in those.”  ”But Bun, they remind me of our first dance.  You were so daring in those shoes but your eyes were so shy.  And maybe that wide skirt and the soft sweater with those maddeningly small pearl buttons?”

Okay.  He is DEFINITELY in a MOOD.

A while later, sitting comfortably in his Jag, listening to Louis sing What a Wonderful World,  we pass by the cute French restaurant I was so sure we were going to.  It always reminded us of the trip we took to Paris for our 25th wedding anniversary.  Hmmm, this is strange, he just passed that little Italian ristorante.  I so love going there, replaying the trip the kids sent us on when Harry finally retired at 70.  They always play our favorite tunes.  That Rosemary Clooney and swoon, Bing Crosby.  Oh, be still my heart!

“Harry, where are we going?”

“Not much further, dear.”  By now Dean Martin’s That’s Amore was playing.  I couldn’t resist tapping my foot to the beat.  Harry hummed along, a twinkle in his eye.

Oh!  The country club! “Darling, the country club? Won’t it be crowded and loud?”  Almost to prove my point for me, the sounds of Sammie’s That Old Black Magic cut through the night as Harry opened my door.  ”Come on, dear, it’ll be fun.”

As we made our way to the front, I was certain I recognized one of the kids’ cars in the parking lot.  Maybe Harry was up to something.  Hmmmm.

The maitre’d greeted us by name but didn’t lead us to our usual table.  ”Honey, where ARE we going,”  ”It’s such a lovely night, I thought you would enjoy eating out on the patio.”  He had a point.  It was quite a night, the stars shone bright, the moon full.

When the door opened on to the brightly lighted courtyard, I suddenly saw the faces of my children, and then the grandchildren.  There was Emma, carrying Zoe, my first great, grandchild.   And Nicole, my walking partner.  Oh, sweet Josh from the grocery store.  Jarrod’s boyscout troop?  Could it be? No, my SISTER?  Annie?!?!?  Oh my, this was going to be some birthday party.

I hope they don’t mind if I remove my shoes!

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