The Yardhouse

“Shall we have lunch at the Yardhouse restaurant?” Such an innocent question that instantly floods my mind with the vivid memory of a terrible incident. Occasionally I stayed a night with my daughter Holly at her college apartment where I would restock her groceries, do laundry, and laugh a lot with a little mother daughter time.  This particular time my youngest daughter Allison came with me to visit her sister.The next day  I decided to stay another night but Allison had school the next day and couldn’t. My husband agreed to meet us at the Yardhouse restaurant for dinner and pick her up. Although he was familiar with the location of the restaurant, as a precaution I texted him the address and name of where we were to meet. My daughters and I arrived first and after waiting a time, I sent them inside to be seated while I continued to wait outside. And worry.  As time passed, I knew nothing good was going to happen. My cell phone rang and with that familiar foreboding I answered, knowing better than to put it any where near my ear. You could hear him screaming into the phone at me from feet away.  It was my fault he drove to a completely different restaurant until he read my text and realized his mistake.  Of course it was my fault.  To compound his anger, now he couldn’t find parking and he continued to yell and berate me for even asking him to meet us for dinner and pick up his daughter.  He drove back and forth for a time until a spot opened up, all the while still screaming. He didn’t read my text message with the address…my fault.  He absentmindedly drove to the wrong restaurant…my fault. He didn’t want to come in the first place…my fault. He couldn’t find a parking spot…my fault. He could be home in his recliner in front of the television…my fault. He was still angry and using his growling criminal voice as he approached me at the curb with his red demon face. The girls instantly felt his palpable anger as he sat at the table glaring at all three of us.  The tension and atmosphere pretty much ruined our appetites and our family outing.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s