E served up a beautiful, slow cooker meal of chicken and vegetables. We were getting good at mastering the art of crock pottery. He seasoned the meat with cinnamon, cloves, pepper and salt and browned it before putting it in the crock pot with a cup of wine, a cup of broth and a squeeze of lemon, with carrots, garlic and onion. It made for a lovely dinner.

Afterwards, I wanted to take a walk. “Let’s get some ice cream, and get some air.” I put my coat on, and saw Joe outside. He was waiting for his employer again. “Care to join us, to kill some time?” I asked.

Joe got out of his car and walked with us down the street. He listened as E and I bickered over what flavor ice cream we wanted, what coffee we should buy, what cookies we should get. “Don’t worry about me,” Joe laughed as we walked back with our dessert. “If you want to sneak over by the bridge and make out, go ahead. I’ll stand back.”

I led the two guys over to the bridge and stood by the entrance to Brooklyn Bridge Park. I took a deep breath of the crisp winter air. I looked at the lights. It was a gorgeous winter night. E and I didn’t make out, but we did smile long enough for Joe to take a picture of us with the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges in the background.

We walked back, and offered Joe wine or ice cream or a sandwich upstairs. (He declined again. These guys are like machines). We saved the chicken for lunch the next day, pictured above.

by