Table for One
Judith Bixby pulled her car into a parking space in front of the Dollar Tree and turned off the engine. After hesitating for several minutes, she got out of the vehicle and locked the door. Her eyes went to the bargains being advertised in the supermarket on the opposite end of the parking lot.
Maybe I should go in and buy a P.F. Chang's frozen dinner.
After taking two steps in that direction, she abruptly stopped.
What am I doing? I can't go through life eating TV dinners alone in my apartment every night.
She turned and returned to the strip mall, walking past the dollar store, the dry cleaners and the nail salon before her courage failed her again. The Jade Palace was next to the nail salon, and the entrance was roughly twenty-five feet in front of her.
This is ridiculous! she chided herself. It's not as though I'm going into a dentist's office to get a root canal. It's nothing but a restaurant for Christ's sake! All I have to do is pick up a plate, fill it with food from the buffet and then sit down at a table and eat. How hard can that be?
Eating was not difficult at all; she had been doing it her whole life. Selecting items from an all-you-can-eat buffet was also not much of a chore. She liked everything from egg rolls and crab Rangoon to General Tso's chicken and vegetable chow mein. What was challenging was eating in a restaurant alone. She had never done so before. When she was a child, she always accompanied her parents. Before getting married, she went out to eat with her girlfriends. Once she became Mrs. Samuel Bixby, her husband was her perpetual dinner companion. Now that she was alone ....
I still have to eat.
Judith stopped and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. The scent of delicious Asian dishes from the buffet made her mouth water.
"I can do this," she told herself.
Slowly, she put one foot in front of the other. She made it to the door, reached out her arm, grasped the handle and pulled. Once inside, she was greeted by an attractive Chinese woman.
"Table for one?" the hostess asked, noticing the customer was alone.
"Yes, please."
Since the restaurant featured a buffet, no menu was necessary. The server placed a napkin and clean silverware on the table and asked the customer what she wanted to drink.
"I'll have tea, please."
Judith removed her jacket and draped it on the back of the chair. Then she headed for the appetizer section. She ladled hot and sour soup into a bowl and piled egg rolls, potstickers, boiled dumplings and crab Rangoon onto a plate.
See? That wasn't so bad, she thought as she dipped her egg roll into duck sauce.
Having finished her first course, she picked up a clean plate and began scooping small portions of entrées, mostly made from chicken, onto it. She followed this with a second plate of main dishes.
Now for dessert.
Although she was comfortably full, she ate a small dish of pudding, a sugar doughnut and an egg custard tart.
I did it, she congratulated herself. Today, I ate at a restaurant all by myself. Tomorrow ... who knows? Maybe I'll go to a movie alone. Before you know it, I may find the courage to take a cruise or one of those bus tours.
It was entirely possible, she realized, for her to have a full life without Samuel. Despite having lost touch with her old friends, she might attempt to locate them on social media. Failing that, she could try to make new friends.
Judith was sipping the last of her tea and basking in her newfound optimism when the server placed her check, along with a fortune cookie, on the table.
Let's see what the future holds for me, she mused and broke the cookie in half.
The positivity and self-assurance she had felt throughout the meal faded when she examined the small slip of paper that fell from the broken cookie and noticed that it was blank.
* * *
The Bixbys' condominium came with two parking spots, only one of which Judith now used. The other, when her neighbor did not have company, was left empty. The house was well-lit since several interior lamps were controlled by a timer. Furthermore, the motion-sensing light above her front door came on the moment she got out of her car. Still, she craned her neck and looked around, making sure no one was lurking in the shadows. Before entering the condo, she reached into her mailbox. It was empty. It contained not a letter, a bill, a postcard, a mail order catalog or a sales circular.
That's odd. I can't remember the last time I had no mail. Oh, well. At least I didn't get any bills.
The fact that there was no newspaper on her stoop was not surprising. The teenager who delivered the Daily Times was not reliable. He often forgot to deliver the evening edition, but he would probably drop off her paper on his way to school in the morning.
After closing the door behind her, Judith kicked off her shoes, removed her jacket and put them in the hall closet. Bypassing the living room, she went straight into the kitchen.
I think I'll make myself a cup of coffee, she decided and put a K-Cup in her Keurig.
Of all her appliances, she liked the coffeemaker best. It suited her single lifestyle. It was sheer waste, she reasoned, to brew an entire pot of coffee for one person. Once her coffee was ready, she set it down on the small kitchen table, which was flanked by two chairs, but like the parking spaces in front of the condo, she only needed one.
Judith sipped her coffee and stared at the empty seat.
All I really need now is a snack tray and a single chair.
Her eyes went to the dining room. It had six chairs around the table and two against the wall. And the living room was furnished with a large sofa, a loveseat and two wingchairs.
How impractical for a single person!
The most ridiculous of all was the ensuite bathroom of the master bedroom. The vanity had two sinks! Had she known she was going to wind up alone, she would have opted to sell her home and buy a studio apartment or one of those tiny houses they show on HGTV. It was certainly more practical than a two-bedroom condo with an eat-in kitchen and a dining room.
Yet of all the furniture and architectural features in her home, the one that bothered her the most was her queen-sized bed. Despite no longer being married, she persistently slept on the right side. Clearly, in her subconscious mind, the left side belonged to Samuel.
I suppose I'm just a creature of habit, she thought as she stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel.
As Judith buttoned her pajamas, she recalled her dinner at the Jade Palace. She had managed to overcome her reluctance to eat alone in public. Pride of that accomplishment swelled in her breast along with a renewed determination to enjoy her new, unattached life.
About to brush her teeth, she noticed that her toothbrush, paste and water glass were placed next to the sink on the right side of the vanity, the left sink having belonged to Samuel.
"It's my home now," she claimed defiantly. "Both these sinks belong to me. I can use whichever one I damn well choose!"
Head held high, she picked up the toothbrush, paste and glass and turned the water on in the left sink. That small victory, coming on the heels of her achievement at the Jade Palace, led her to another breakthrough. She turned down the comforter of her queen bed and stretched out not on the right side or the left but in the middle.
I'm beginning to like this new table-for-one lifestyle, she mused as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Judith woke the next morning to find herself once again sleeping on the right side of the bed.
I must have dreamed I was still married.
She put on her robe, went down to the kitchen and turned on the Keurig. While waiting for her coffee cup to fill, she went to the front door for her newspaper, only to find that the Daily Times was not on her stoop.
"That kid is the worst paper boy I've ever had," she grumbled. "I've a good mind to call up the newspaper and complain."
After putting milk and sugar into her coffee, she deliberately sat in the dining room to drink it.
When was the last time anyone ate in here? she wondered.
The memory of a Thanksgiving dinner came to mind. She had made a turkey and all the fixings that went along with a traditional holiday meal. Samuel had sat at one end of the table, and she sat at the other. His two sisters and their husbands and her brother and his wife completed the seating arrangement.
Judith's eyes misted and her mouth watered as she recalled the juicy turkey breast, the sausage stuffing, the homemade cranberry sauce, the marshmallow-and-streusel-topped sweet potato casserole and the pecan pie. No restaurant offered such a meal!
That reminds me, she thought, rinsing her empty coffee cup out in the sink. Where should I eat dinner tonight? What do I feel like having?
While getting dressed, she considered the available choices. There was Maria's Cantina, but she was not the biggest fan of Mexican cuisine. Not far from her condo was a new Korean steakhouse. She was unfamiliar with the items on their menu, so she decided against it. She also vetoed going to a Thai restaurant, a pizzeria, Friendly's, an Irish pub and Red Robin. Eventually, she chose The Outrigger, a seafood restaurant.
I haven't had fish and chips in ... I don't know how long.
For eight hours, Judith thought of little else but the crispy fried cod sprinkled with malt vinegar and dipped into tartar sauce.
As she got into her car and headed toward town, she felt none of the anxiety or hesitation she had experienced the previous evening. She would courageously walk into the restaurant and ask to be seated at a table for one. She would feel neither fear nor shame at eating alone.
"What?" she cried when she discovered that The Outrigger did not have its own parking lot.
Patrons had to park on the street. Unfortunately, Judith hadn't parallel parked a vehicle since she took her driver's license test at age seventeen. Rather than attempt to squeeze her car between two oversized SUVs, she drove around the block several times, hoping a larger space would become available. After thirty minutes, she lost hope.
Dejected, she drove to the strip mall, parked in front of the nail salon and ate dinner at the Jade Palace. At the end of the meal, she was again presented with the check and a fortune cookie.
"Excuse me," she told the cashier when she walked up to the counter to pay her bill. "It looks like the company that supplies your fortune cookies needs to tighten up its quality control measures."
"Why is that?" the girl inquired.
"This is the second cookie in two days that had a blank sheet of paper inside."
"I'm sorry," the cashier apologized and handed Judith a cellophane bag that contained three fortune cookies that was normally included in take-out orders.
Continuing the rebellion that began when she walked into the Jade Palace the previous evening, Judith drove home and parked in the middle of the two parking spaces allotted to her, thus preventing anyone from parking beside her.
They're my spots! Why should I let my neighbor's company use one? Let them park in the visitors' lot across the street.
Walking up the stairs, she cried, "Damn that kid! Where is my newspaper?"
She reached into her mailbox, which was once again empty.
Breaking another long-held habit, Judith kicked off her shoes and left them on the floor beside the front door. Then she walked into the living room, took off her jacket and laid it over the arm of the loveseat. Lastly, she sat on the middle cushion of the couch and opened the bag of fortune cookies. The slips of paper in all three of them were blank.
What is the world coming to? she wondered. No mail. No newspaper. No fortune.
And no husband.
Hoping tomorrow would be a better day, she went upstairs, showered and spent the rest of the evening in bed with a good book.
* * *
After being on hold for more than ten minutes, Judith hung up the phone.
Maybe the newspaper went out of business. Not only haven't I received my paper for three days now, but I can't get in touch with anyone at the office either.
Was it possible that the mailman had died as well? What else would explain the lack of mail for three days?
Vowing not to let these issues bring her down, she put on her best dress and left the house at four o'clock. It was too early for most people to eat dinner, but she was determined to get fish and chips at The Outrigger. Hopefully, at that hour, there would be ample parking.
I'm in luck. There are two spaces available across the street in front of the barber shop. I can pull in instead of backing up into the space.
When Judith entered the restaurant, a hostess in a sailor suit inquired how many people were in her party.
"Only me," she replied.
The hostess picked up a single menu and led her to a table for two by the window.
"I'll just take away the extra place setting," she declared and handed the menu to the customer. "Your server will be right with you."
Although she already knew what she wanted, Judith scanned the menu anyway. Shortly, a pretty blond waitress, also wearing a sailor suit, approached her table.
"Hi. My name is CiCi. I'll be your server. Can I start you out with a drink from the bar?"
"No, thank you. I'm ready to order."
"Great," CiCi said, taking an order pad out of her pocket.
"I'll have a tossed salad with honey mustard dressing, the fish and chips and unsweetened iced tea."
"Thanks. I'll have your salad out in a few minutes."
It took more than twenty minutes for Judith to get her entrée, but the meal was worth the wait. The fish seemed to melt in her mouth. And the "chips" were cut thick, fried to a golden brown and salted to her taste.
"Would you like coffee or dessert?" CiCi asked after the customer finished the last ketchup-laden French fry.
"No, thank you. I'm stuffed!"
"I'll just bring your check then."
The server returned a few minutes later with a small tray on which she had placed the check and, to Judith's astonishment, a fortune cookie!
I don't get it! I can see getting a chocolate or a mint, but a fortune cookie? This isn't a Chinese restaurant.
Apparently, they purchased them from the same distributor as the Jade Palace did because the slip of paper inside was blank.
* * *
The weird feeling Judith experienced, which began with a fortune cookie being served at a seafood restaurant, became more bizarre as the evening wore on. After leaving the restaurant, she discovered that a huge Chevy Suburban had parked behind her. A distance of only a few inches separated her rear bumper from its front one. It took her close to fifteen minutes of repeatedly driving forward and backing up to extricate her car from the tight squeeze.
That'll be the last time I parallel park! If I ever come back to The Outrigger, I'll park down the street in Walmart's parking lot and walk here.
The parking situation did not improve when she got home. Both parking spots in front of her condo were taken.
Can't these morons read the sign? It clearly says RESIDENTS PARKING ONLY!
Frustrated, she left her car in the visitors' lot and wobbled across the pavement on her high heels.
"No newspaper! Big surprise!" she observed and reached into her mailbox. "And no mail. I know the government has shut down, but I didn't think the post office would be affected."
Judith unlocked her front door, stepped across the threshold into the foyer and received the biggest shock of the evening. The sofa, loveseat and wingchairs were gone. All that remained of her living room furniture were the two end tables and the coffee table.
"I've been robbed!" she screamed.
Would someone break into her house and steal her sofa but leave the expensive television and stereo behind?
She was beginning to feel like Alice after she fell down the rabbit hole and entered Wonderland. Everything seemed to get curiouser and curiouser.
"I have to call the police, but I need a drink first."
The alcohol was kept in the counter next to the dishwasher. When she walked into the kitchen, a second theft presented itself. One of the two chairs belonging to the kitchen table was missing.
"What the hell is going on? Why take a chair and leave the table?"
The front and back doors and all the windows had been locked. Not one of the locks was forced; none of the window panes was broken. How did the burglars get in? And how on earth did they get the furniture out?
These were questions without answers.
She grabbed a bottle of wine out of the cabinet and went upstairs to her bedroom. Like Scarlett O'Hara, she would postpone her worries until tomorrow.
* * *
Judith woke late the next morning after having slept fitfully during the night. As she sat up in bed, she felt a stabbing pain in her head. She stumbled into the bathroom in search of a bottle of aspirin.
Her scream shattered the silence of the morning.
There was one, not two sinks! This was no theft as the entire vanity had been replaced.
"This is crazy! I've got to get out of here!"
Ignoring her headache, she ran down the stairs. At the bottom of the staircase, she stopped. She looked to the right and saw that the dining room table and chairs were gone, although the china cabinet and lowboy remained. To the left, the kitchen table was likewise missing. In its place was a snack tray placed in front of the remaining chair.
"I don't know what's going on here, but I don't want any part of it!"
While she had no qualms about leaving the house wearing her pajamas, she needed her car keys to make her escape. Only the keys were in her purse, which was upstairs in the bedroom. Although frightened by the strange events of the last two days, she raced back upstairs. When she entered the master bedroom, another horror confronted her.
Only a short time ago, she had woken up in her queen-size bed. It had since been replaced with a twin.
"No!" she bellowed. "The hell with the keys!"
Wanting only to get out of the house, she turned around and descended the stairs. Halfway down, she lost her footing and fell forward.
* * *
Judith's eyes fluttered open and immediately closed because the bright light made her head hurt.
"You're awake," an unknown male voice observed.
"W-where am I?" she muttered.
"In St. Michael's Hospital," the same voice answered.
She gingerly opened her eyes again. The bright overhead lamp was turned off, and she saw the nurse standing at her bedside.
"What happened?" she wondered, having no recollection of her fall on the staircase. "Was I in a car accident?"
"The doctor will be in a moment. He'll answer any questions you have."
"Can't you tell me?"
"I'm afraid not. Ah, here's Dr. Grossmith now."
Arnold Grossmith was a man of medium height and weight. With his graying hair, blue eyes and warm smile, he reminded Judith of her father.
"How are you feeling?" the physician asked.
"My head hurts."
"I'm not surprised. We managed to remove the bullet, but it was touch and go for a while."
"Bullet?" Judith echoed. "I was shot?"
"Both you and your husband."
"Samuel was shot, too? Is he okay?"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Bixby. He was already dead when the police got there."
Judith tried to remember the events that led to her hospitalization, but her thoughts were clouded with surreal images of dining room chairs, single beds, fortune cookies, bathroom vanities, newspapers and empty mailboxes.
"Was it a mass shooting? I seem to recall being in a restaurant, but I don't remember Samuel being with me. I think I was sitting at a table for one."
Before Dr. Grossmith could answer her question, another man entered her hospital room.
"She's come to?" the gruff stranger demanded to know.
"Yes," the doctor replied.
"Is she out of danger?"
"Yes."
"Then she can be transferred?"
Dr. Grossmith nodded his head and turned away.
The stranger stepped forward and introduced himself, "I'm Detective Franco Millbank. Judith Bixby, I'm placing you under arrest for the murder of your husband, Samuel. You have the right to remain silent."
Judith then noticed the armed, uniformed police officer who was standing guard at her door.
"Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
A recollection broke through the fog in her memory. She recalled holding a gun in her hand and pointing it at her husband.
"You have the right to an attorney."
She aimed at Samuel's chest and squeezed the trigger.
"If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you."
After shooting and killing her husband, Judith turned the gun on herself and attempted to blow her brains out.
"Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?" Detective Millbank asked.
The patient's mind, having been playing hide and seek with sanity since before the murder-suicide event, snapped at last.
"Well?" Franco prompted.
Judith looked at him, seeing a waiter, not a detective, and answered, "A table for one, please."
Salem doesn't want a slip of paper inside his cookie. He prefers peanut butter (like the kind found in some dog bones).
