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Perfect Day
In the sleepy suburbs near Washington D.C. a couple prepare to sit down and enjoy a small candle lit dinner. Jack and Sarah Stonebridge are your stereotypical ‘American pie’ sort of people. They stand for what they believe to be right no matter what. They try to shape and improve the American way.
Jack lights a safety match and watches the flame as it spreads to the thin red candle in his other hand. He tips the candle down to the flame to make a few drops of hot wax fall into the holder. He then firmly plants the candle in. It flickers briefly and then starts to give out a steady flow of soft light. He repeats his actions with the other candle as if it were a ceremony or ritual.
Their candle lit dinners had become a ritual but this time it was special. This time was different. He licks his lips as he continues to set the table. The smell of roast chicken wafts into him from the kitchen next door. He proceeds to pour red wine into two glasses. The steadily poured stream and heavy aroma invites him to take a sip. Which he does.
He thinks that it is silly for a grown man to feel like a naughty schoolboy when he does this, but for some reason that feeling does not go away. He refills his glass the liquid babbles on its way to the top. He walks over to the door to dim the lights. Just when he does so Sarah drifts into the room with a decent sized roast chicken on a large plate. Its skin is golden and shiny and begs to be eaten.
As Sarah heads back into the kitchen Jack can’t help but think how good the years have been to her. If it was possible he was sure that he loved her more each day. She had done so much for him. She had been there to help him with his drinking problem and she had taken him back after his ‘slip up’ during those dark days. She hadn’t forgotten about it though and he did not expect her to. However it was always used to give her the upper hand in an argument.
She comes back in smiling with two plates of vegetables in her mitt-covered hands. They sit down and she raises her glass. “Congratulations Mister President.” Her Munroe voice was great and it always drove Jack crazy. “Thank you Mrs President.” They both sipped at their glasses; he takes a slightly larger sip.
Sarah stealthily slides the bottle to her side of the table. They bow their heads and she says a short grace. It is not long before the sound of clinking on plates and eating has begun. Jack makes appreciative, exaggerated munching sounds. Sarah chuckles at the gusto he puts into the act. “Glad you like it. Try not to give yourself indigestion though. You still have dessert.”
The eating continues for a while before the sacred silence is broken again. “Jack… I’ve been thinking. Ever since the election my head has been busting with ideas to change America, even the world for the better. I have thought of a way to rid the world of poverty and famine. Now that we have power I can finally act on those ideas.”
Jack chokes on a mouthful of wine. After he recovers he looks seriously at her. “That’s a pretty big claim hun. How do you intend to do such a thing?” Sarah puts down her knife and fork and carries some of the dishes into the kitchen. Jack takes the rest in.
She discusses her ideas over a long dessert. Jack knows that it’s a tall order that means sacrifices need to be made but it can be done. The sun makes the autumn shadows longer outside as it prepares to set. Jack talks excitedly to Sarah, as he wants to start the draft proposals right away.
Sarah stops him, “It’s too late now. Right now all I want to do is have a nice, relaxing walk in the park with my husband. Business later.” She heads into the kitchen with a spring in her step. Jack groans as he gets up. “Come on. I’ll even bring bread for the ducks.”
