Dinner With The Refrigerator
Staring at the old refrigerator, Maddie wondered, “Where else can I put it? It was the day before a holiday, her guests were expected the next day, and the new bottom-mount refrigerator was due for delivery within two hours. But she couldn’t get the old refrigerator picked up until two days after the holiday. She felt the desperation in her voice, as it wavered asking outloud, “Where can I put it.”
She pulled out the phone book, again, searched on the internet, again, and made phone calls, again. She was ready to beg, plead, even cry; some guy must want a little extra money before the holiday, would feel sorry for her and pick up that old refrigerator, take it anywhere! She was wrong. Begging, crying, and offering extra money as an incentive didn’t work.
The menu was set: beef Wellington, her first, recipe courtesy of a popular cuisine magazine; sauteed asparagus with lemon sauce; double baked potato with shrimp and blue cheese; a cabernet sauvignon, and for dessert, a store bought pecan pie from Costco to be topped with vanilla ice cream. Of course, coffee would be served afterwards. She had a lot of food prep to do–the beef, the potatoes, the asparagus, the lemon sauce. Then there was the house–a quick dusting, vacuum the rugs, clean the powder room, rinse and dry her special china, set the dining table, walk the dogs, and the list went on and on. These things clogged her thinking as she stood in the kitchen doorway, wondering what to do with that refrigerator.
The doorbell rang. It was the truck driver ready to deliver the new refrigerator. “Merde!” She swore, one of the few curse words she knew from her days of studying French. Then she remembered, she still needed to empty the old refrigerator of storage containers, bowls and platters of food. Maddie sighed, ready to beg the delivery men to move the old refrigerator, but where, as she answered the door trying to mask her distress. Instead, she immediately started crying, explained her dilemma to the delivery men, then pleadingly asked, “I know this isn't your job, but could you please move the old refrigerator? I’ll pay!” They agreed and said, “no charge, ma’am, where do you want it moved to?” Blank faced, she blurted out, “the dining room, just on the other side of the kitchen wall. Put it at the head of the table . . .what the hell.” The men moved the butcher block table out of the way, even helped empty the old refrigerator. After the new bottom-mounted fridge was delivered and hooked up, she stood in the kitchen and smiled at it. That joy soon faded when she stepped into the dining room and glowered at the old one.
And so it was, she decided she had an extra guest for dinner, a refrigerator. “Why not a fridge?” she said, “I’ll make a place setting for it too.” She found herself talking to the refrigerator. “I hope you like beef wellington, I certainly paid enough for that tenderloin. I know you’ll love the double-baked potato, but no wine for you! I’ll need it more than you. Besides, can’t have you getting tipsy and fall, there’s no one to pick you up! I guess you want a name too!”
By the next day, she had an elaborate apologising story for her guests, something to the effect the refrigerator insisted on staying for dinner. It was lonely, feeling unloved, and she couldn’t resist. Everyone could barely stop laughing and added their own jokes. Her co-worker’s husband asked for a black sharpie pen and drew a happy face on the refrigerator, along with hands, as if they were joined over a belly. Dinner was superb, the hostess glowed with pride and more so after each glass of wine; although she shared center stage with a guest refrigerator.