let it rain
She wanted a specific red to bring out to dinner, but a woman was locking the doors as we arrived. So instead of bringing our own wine, we would have to buy the restaurant's, and pay the same price for a glass as a bottle would've cost.
I tried to take her to a local wine store, but my friend Paula knows what she likes, and wouldn't settle for a cheap Ontario wine to bring out to our fine dining experience.
That night we ate at a formal steakhouse downtown, drank a robust red, a martini, ate decadent tuna steak and filet mignon, and finished with key lime pie and creme brulee.
We both wore black dresses, turned heads, and finished the night dancing the soul music in a cramped bar.
During her short stay we power shopped and ate well. Paula is stunning and has adventurous style, and made a point of telling me that I should try and incorporate some clothing that's not black into my wardrobe. A lover of simplicity, I begged to differ.
When we got caught in the rain downtown, I held my umbrella over the both of us and was taken back to my teen years. It doesn't seem that long ago that we ran around downtown Vancouver in the rain, searching for cheap vintage or the closest Value Village. Caught in nostalgia, I let the rain wet my feet and held onto her happily.
Now she's off in her silver sneakers and her red lipstick to visit relatives, as I start to pack my bags and prepare to leave for France.