An empty nest night out

Short Fiction: An attempt at reconnection takes an unexpected turn

Photo by Hitesh Dewasi on Unsplash

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

by Vince Wetzel

Copyright Vince Wetzel and OT Press

They needed this night out, Eddie thought. Since the end of the pandemic and a return to the office, he and wife Lizzie had been on different schedules, passing each other in the bathroom or around the breakfast counter without a moment to connect.

And even when they weren’t busy with work, their free time was spent with social engagements, golf outings, book clubs, and shopping trips. But tonight, they committed to a nice dinner together at the Sawyer Hotel, a posh new spot next to the Sacramento Kings arena. 

“I’ve heard great things about this place,” Lizzie said, as they pulled off the freeway onto J Street. “I can’t wait to go and reconnect. It seems we’ve been on different wavelengths since Heidi went to college.” 

Heidi was only 20 minutes away at University of California at Davis, but they all made the mutual decision she should take full advantage of the college life and live on campus. They had saved for this after all, and Heidi needed to spread her wings without having to debrief her parents every day or sneak in early in the morning. 

But without the tether of a child to rear, Eddie admitted that he and Lizzie were a bit adrift, their most serious conversations consisting of the Target shopping list, expense reimbursements, or when the pest guy was stopping by.  

“I hear the executive chef worked under the main guy at the French Laundry,” Eddie said. “I’m excited to see what she’s bringing to the cuisine. Sacramento needs more of this stuff.” 

Eddie pulled into the valet parking of the Sawyer. He could easily just self-park but tonight was special and he wanted to share that with his wife. He tipped the valet a $20 and they walked in hand-in-hand. The night was going to be great. He was even prepared to splurge on a pricey night in the hotel if Lizzie gave him the look. 

“How are the Kings going to do this year?” Lizzie asked when they were seated at a table next to the window facing the arena.  

“Who knows?” Eddie asked. “They’ve been bad for so long.” 

Eddie knew he lost Lizzie. Baseball was her game, her passion fueled by her father, a lifelong Oakland A’s fan. Lizzie and her family had a tradition of going to the first and last game of the A’s season. They were a highlight of the year. But outside of the A’s season, sports were not a priority. 

“Anything new with your dad?” Eddie asked. Lizzie’s father had gone to his doctor with complaints of excessive fatigue.

“He went in for some tests and we should know more in a week or so,” she said. “Probably just needs to start puffing on the Marlboros.”

As it happened more and more since Heidi became more independent and self-sufficient, he and Lizzie’s conversations had become more mundane and less invigorating and fulfilling. Instead of conversations about parenting philosophies, the pros and cons of private school, the role of religion in their family or the political news of the day, it was more about work, their coworkers and maybe a movie they wanted to see. They were comfortable. Sometimes, Eddie thought, too comfortable. 

“Hi there, welcome to the Sawyer,” the waitress said appearing. “What can I get you started with?” 

When the waitress, her nametag said Sierra, looked at Eddie, his heart went into his throat. Sierra’s surprised look and subsequent glare, indicated she recognized him too. 

“I’ll have a glass of the Sauvignon Blanc,” Lizzie said, smiling. She hadn’t noticed.  

“Um,” Eddie stammered. “I’ll have a Tito’s and tonic.” 

“Great,” Sierra said, her smile thin. “I’ll get those started for you.” 

As she turned and walked away, Eddie thought for sure Lizzie could see his heart pushing out of his chest. In compartmentalizing the duality of his life, he forgot that Sierra, Janine’s best friend and roommate, worked at the Sawyer.

He should have figured. Janine was a bartender at the bar he patronized after work when he needed to decompress. She listened to his complaints, his dreams, and his realities as she kept his glass full. It was only a month ago, when things progressed. Lizzie was out of town and Janine got off at 9 and he took her to dinner. That dinner led them back to her apartment and a night of passionate sex that he hadn’t had since he and Lizzie were trying to conceive Heidi. Unfortunately, 28-year-olds often have roommates and Eddie met Sierra the next morning and three subsequent times. Now, Sierra was in direct communication with his wife. 

“Eddie?” Lizzie asked. 

“Sorry,” Eddie said. Eddie had blocked out the rest of the world, including the conversation his wife was having with him. What would happen if Sierra said something? He had to find her before she came back and have her reassurances that she wouldn’t say anything to his wife. 

“Excuse me, I’ve got to use the restroom,” Eddie said. 

“OK,” Lizzie said. 

Eddie stood up and smiled, hoping Lizzie didn’t see the panic he was feeling. He walked toward the bathroom and the kitchen, hoping he’d catch Sierra near the bar. He spotted her dark braids and moved toward her. 

“Sierra,” he said. “Hi.” 

Sierra turned toward him, her eyes and mouth turned down, a true sign she was not happy to see him.  She just stared.

“Hey, look,” Eddie didn’t know what he should say. “Look Janine knows my situation and she’s good with it. So, I need you to not let on how you know me. OK?” 

“You mean not tell your wife that you’re a piece of shit?” 

“Look, I’m just…” 

“What?” she said. “What do you want me to believe? That you’re just a good guy that’s cheating on his wife in my apartment?”

“No,” Eddie was stymied. There was no justifying what was happening. “It just doesn’t need to be shared is all. Just help me out this one time. I’ll give you an extra big tip.” 

Sierra’s eyes narrowed and she glared at Eddie. He watched her tray start to go askew and the glass of red wine sitting atop the tray tumbled over and spilled over his white shirt and light blue pants. 

“Oh, sorry sir,” she said flatly. Eddie understood this was not an accident.  

“Fuck,” Eddie said. “What the fuck?” 

“My apologies sir,” Sierra said, a smirk now appearing on her face. 

Photo by Piotr Makowski on Unsplash

One of the hotel managers, a bald Filipino man dressed in a form-fitting suit, approached. 

“Sir, I’m so sorry for the mistake of one of our staff,” he said. His nametag said David Velasco. “I hope you will forgive us. Sierra, can you get a towel for this guest of ours?” 

“Of course Mr. Velasco,” Sierra said, quickly turning to move to the kitchen. Now, she was apologetic, probably because this could cost her this job. Eddie, though, wasn’t going to bring any more attention to this growing situation.

“This is not what we do at the Sawyer,” said Velasco, embarrassed, once she was gone. “I’m the hotel executive manager. I will make sure she is reprimanded. Is there anything else we can do for you? Have you ordered yet? I can comp your meal if you wish.” 

“That would be nice, thank you,” Eddie said. “And if you could provide us with another waitress. I don’t want her to feel she has to apologize to us every time she brings us food.” 

“No problem, sir. I’ll let the restaurant know,” the manager said, pulling out a business card. He handed it to Eddie. “If you need anything else, please let me know.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Velasco. I will.” 

Eddie turned back. Lizzie hadn’t noticed the exchange. Now with Sierra not serving his table, he went to the bathroom and tried to clean himself the best he could. When he returned to Lizzie, he tried to put a positive on the experience, raising his hands and shaking his head with a smile. 

“Oh shit, what happened?” Lizzie asked, confused by the dark burgundy stain on his shirt and pants. 

“Pure accident. Our waitress ran into me with a glass of wine. She was terribly sorry, but she’s been moved to another table, and we got our meal comped. So, order up. We’re dining on the Sawyer.” 

“Well, that’s the least they could do,” Lizzie was annoyed. But then her eyes turned flirtatious. “Should have asked more, like a room for the night.” 

“Well, we can still do that,” Eddie said. “Let’s make it a night to remember.” 

Lizzie plays a central role in the upcoming novel Lose Yourself, available Spring 2024.

Side of Mustard…

This marks four months on Substack!

This platform is a conundrum. It’s famously a blank slate for writers to create, experiment and find an audience. That’s a great thing.

It’s also frustrating.

On one hand, I post. It’s sent to my subscribers. People read. Some folks find it and subscribe, and I just keep posting each week.

On the other hand, what brings new subscribers? How can I put this in front of new folks and provide enough value for them to make that choice to hit subscribe? The answer is, just keep going, be authentic and keep offering positive content. Any thoughts to make it better is always welcome!

Initially, I created Salted Wetzel to drive people toward my novels Friends in Low Places (2021) and the upcoming Lose Yourself (2024) with short stories that tie into these books. But I’m finding some traction on my Fridge Philosophies, my writing journey and some of my silly posts on sports, pop culture, etc.

Salted Wetzel is evolving and I’m glad you’re on this road with me. Thank you!