COMFORT SOUP

My husband Steven came into the living room where I was still in my pajamas, curled up in a chair reading a book.

“What do you want to do for dinner tonight?” He asked.

I looked over at the clock. Having gotten lost in my reading I didn’t realize it was dinnertime. “Wait.” I was confused. “It’s only three o’clock.”

“I know but we’re on our own tonight for dinner and I thought maybe you’d like to order out.”

I threw my book on the coffee table and jumped up. “Wonton soup! Wonton soup!” I cried.

Steven smiled. “I had a feeling you were going to say that. Let’s get dressed and pick it up now and we can eat it whenever we want.”

“I’m in!” I cried as I went to our bedroom to get dressed.

Steven and I quickly got dressed and as we were passing our son Alex’s door, I knocked and called out. “We’re going to get wonton soup! Do you want anything?”

“No thanks.” I heard him say through the door. “I’m going out to dinner.”

“Okay. We’ll be back soon.” I hurried to the front hall closet and grabbed my coat.

We were always looking for a good Chinese restaurant and when Steven found this place I fell in love with their wonton soup. It was my new winter I-don’t-feel-like-cooking comfort soup. It was about fifteen minutes from our house but I considered that definitely worth it.

“Getting home before dark is a giant plus.” I said as I climbed in the car.

“Exactly what I was thinking.” Steven said as he got behind the wheel.

I rubbed my gloved hands together. “How many quarts do you think we should get?” I asked as Steven backed out of the driveway.

“Well, I’m getting a quart for myself.”

“Two quarts it is!” I reached over to turn up the heat.

Steven reached over and patted me on the leg. “Aren’t I the best husband for thinking about this for dinner?”

I looked over at him and smiled. “You are the best husband for thinking about this for dinner.” I agreed then cleared my throat. “And I’m the best wife for having cheap cravings, like wonton soup, instead of a wife who’d crave steak and tails.”

“That’s true.” Steven started to laugh. “I do consider myself lucky that you’ve always been a cheap date.”

“You’re welcome.”

We pulled into the parking lot. Steven left the car running and opened his door.

“Oh, don’t forget the crispy chow mein noodles.” I reminded him.

“Don’t worry, it comes with the soup.” He said as he closed the door.

I watched him walk across the parking lot to the restaurant, holding the brim of his hat against the wind.

When he went inside I leaned over to turn on some music. “You know, it’s simple things like this that makes me happy.” I said to myself.

I looked back at the restaurant. “Now let’s just hope he remembers to grab a few fortune cookies on his way out.”