A Midweek Lunch Outing and Some Catch Up Time

I had a couple of things to pick up downtown anyway, so Ren and I decided to make it into lunch. We left around eleven thirty to beat the worst of the traffic. The car still had that faint smell of the pine air freshener from last weekend’s drive, and the passenger seat was warm from the sun coming through the windshield. Parking was easier than usual near the old fountain in Crestwood District. The fountain itself was running low, just a thin trickle over the stone edge, and a couple of pigeons were splashing in the shallow basin while a street musician tuned his guitar a few benches away.

The new cafe we had been meaning to try was only a short walk from there. We passed a florist with buckets of sunflowers out front and a little bakery whose cinnamon smell drifted out every time the door opened. Inside the cafe the air-conditioning was on just a touch too high, so I kept my sweater on while we looked at the chalkboard menu. Ren ordered the skyberry salad and I went with a turkey sandwich on sourdough. The bread was toasted just enough to give it that quiet crunch without being brittle, and the portions were generous. The roasted potatoes on the side came in a little cast-iron dish that stayed warm on the table. We split them anyway, passing the dish back and forth between bites. Ren kept pausing to pick out the little bits of blue cheese they’d sprinkled on top of the greens, moving them to the edge of the plate with the fork tines. I watched the barista behind the counter steam milk for the next order, the machine hissing loud enough that we had to lean in a little when we talked.

After we ate we stopped at the office supply store for some folders I needed for a client project. The place smelled like fresh paper and toner, and the fluorescent lights made everything look slightly blue. I found the exact ones I wanted on the second aisle, the ones with the reinforced edges so they don’t tear after a week in the drawer. Ren wandered over to the pens and came back with a pack of the gel ones we both like. Then we hit the drugstore for basics like toothpaste and the kind of batteries that always seem to run out at the worst time. I grabbed the store-brand kind because the name brand was twice as much and they look the same once they’re in the clock. The checkout line moved slowly because someone ahead of us was returning a hair dryer that apparently made a clicking noise. By the time we got back to the car it was already past two. The parking meter had five minutes left on it, which felt like a small victory.

The drive home took a little longer than expected because they had started setting up barriers for the Summer Bloom Festival next week. Orange cones were already blocking one lane, and two city workers in bright vests were unrolling yellow caution tape along the curb. One of them waved us through with a handheld stop sign. It is one of those events that brings half the city out for food trucks and live music, so the streets get crowded early. We had to detour past the library, where someone had propped the side door open and you could see rows of folding chairs already set up inside for one of the daytime talks.

When we got home Ren went to check on the mail while I put the new folders in the drawer by my desk. The drawer sticks a little on the left side, so I had to jiggle it before it would close all the way. I also swapped out the batteries in the kitchen clock that has been running slow for weeks. The old ones were the kind with the little leak mark on the side, so I wrapped them in a paper towel before tossing them. It felt good to get those small things done on a weekday instead of letting them pile up until the weekend.

Later in the evening I watered the plants on the back patio. The hose had a small kink near the spigot that I had to work out with my thumb. One of the ferns is finally starting to look better after I moved it out of the direct sun. Its fronds were still a little curled at the tips, but the new growth in the center looked brighter. Ren made pasta with whatever we had left in the fridge—half a carton of cherry tomatoes, some leftover grilled chicken, and the last bit of parmesan we grated over the top. We ate it while watching an old episode of a show we both like. The couch cushions were still warm from the afternoon sun coming through the window, and every so often one of us would pause the show to point out a line we’d forgotten. Nothing fancy, just a normal Tuesday that ended up being productive.