a special night out (lyn)

Weeks ago, Meredith invites Alexander and me out for dinner to celebrate my birthday.  I am touched by her generosity and thoughtfulness.  She hasn’t seen Alexander in a while, and separately they have both expressed strong interest in getting together.  She has chosen Café Luxembourg, a great little French restaurant on the Westside.

While we are waiting for the crosstown bus to meet Meredith, I remind (he’d say nag) Alexander of a few things he hasn’t done and should, given that today is the last day of his two-week spring break.  “You still haven’t looked for merit scholarships.  I’ve sent you links for a bunch of sites.  The deadlines are almost here.”  Then I remind him of the people who have called and offered their college-decision help (as in, “my friend’s son goes to Cornell, you should call him and talk to him; here’s his email address.”)  By the time the bus arrives, Alexander insists on sitting alone.

We get to the restaurant and Meredith is already there.  Even though I speak to her every day, and she has lived through every single second of the college prep, search, application, wait and notification process, she hasn’t seen Alexander since his Bar Mitzvah, five and half years ago.  He’s changed a lot in that time.  On the physical side alone, he’s gained what I’ve lost (160 from 120), has grown 3 1/4 inches (from 5’6  3/4 to 5’10), and he now shaves.  He’s probably become more mature and articulate but that’s hard for a mother to see.  The two of them embrace like best friends who haven’t seen each other after a long absence.

We sit down and Meredith says she has a few must-read books for Alexander.  I’m thinking, “Oh, no, doesn’t she know that my son is not exactly a reader-for-fun kind of guy?”  But of course she knows this.  She hands him three books with cute little intros for each:

• D!rty Spanish (everyday slang from “What’s Up?” to “F*%#Off!”)
• 100 Words To Make You Sound Smart (I will read this too)
• F in Exams (the very best totally wrong test answers); this, I hope, he never needs

The books are clever and appropriate and Alexander loves them all.

I order some kind of cod entrée that is layered with mashed potatoes and a leafy green vegetable of some kind; Meredith and Alexander have steak and fries (of which I steal many).  I hardly notice what I’m eating (I just know it tastes great) as we flirt with the actor/waiter from Alabama who-worked-hard-for two-years-in voice-class-to-get-rid-of-his-accent, laugh, exchange stories, and of course discuss college.

As always, Meredith offers excellent advice, and Alexander really listens. 

I think we order dessert just to prolong the evening (although the lemon tarte with a caramelized top and whipped cream is exceptionally good).

Sometimes everything clicks and tonight is one of those nights. We all leave smiling with the knowledge and contentment of a very good friendship.