Hubby's Homecoming: Part 2

Whew! All went well! I drove to SLC Airport (the second time ever that I've done that, and the very first time I ever did it without someone in the car to tell me where to go!) and I only got lost once, and even then it was only for a few minutes.

However, my worry-wort self left an hour too early, so I had to sit in the Park & Wait for a while. Good thing I brought my kindle, right? After an hour of sitting in a too hot to be comfortable car and trying really hard not to sweat my make-up off, Jefferson called me saying he was ready to be picked up.

I shot out of that parking lot like I had a fire underneath me, and rounded the pick-up lane, my eyes peeled for my sweetie. You won't believe me when I tell you, but it was like a scene straight from a movie: dark suit, fedora, shirt and tie, standing with his hands in his pockets next to a month's worth of luggage. *insert whistle here* Hello, Cary Grant? Tony Curtis? Anyone?

I hopped outta the car, grabbed a suitcase or two, and after they were loaded, Jefferson grabbed me and made sure I got a movie worthy smooch right there on the sidewalk.

What happened next is so typical of men: Jefferson had just had a 24-hour airplane ordeal, he was exhausted and not to mention totally jet-lagged, but he still insisted on driving us home!

When we walked through the door and he saw the couch in the kitchen and a black sheet cutting the kitchen off from the rest of the house, he could guess what I had planned, but at least he was sweet enough not to mention it. I guided him, blindfolded, through the living room and into the bedroom/bathroom area which was alsocut off via black sheet from the living room, so that he could shower and shave (for a man with next to no facial hair, his upper lip and chin get super duper scratchy and I am kind of attached to my face and don't really care to have it burned off from just a simple smooch!).

I set dinner on: the shells were gorgeous, but I hadn't taste tested anything, so I was still trepidatious. Golden brown, warm from the oven garlic bread, and a salad mix, heavy on the olives, completed the ensemble. I lit candles (shh! don't tell the landlords! open flames are a big no-no!) and pulled the sheet aside for Jefferson to step in, saying "Welcome home, sweetheart," as he did so. The boy was floored! He had to snap pic after pic of nothing but the setting and food!

We ate and made googly eyes at each other over the table (what?! we are married, for pete's sake!), sipping our white grape juice and chatting about nothing in particular. What put a little twinkle in my eye was when Jefferson took his first bite of homemade food in a month and said, "Wow, Genny. This is amazing! You are such a good cook." Well, I knew that all along, so someone explain to me why we ate out to much before?

But I haven't even gotten to the piece de irresistible: Russian Creme! For those of you who have never had Russian Creme, it is a swoon-worthy confection! The creme has a consistancy between custard and pudding and it's vanilla flavored with layers of juicy raspberries. I'm pretty sure Jefferson will be asking for my Russian Creme in place of his birthday cake!

Anyway, it is so good to have my sweet hubby home again! And there will be a lot more home-cooking and delicious recipes coming at you from this direction!