a visit

The Bistro had a visit from Carol Gray Friday night. I know it as surely as I know Lilly, her cat now mine, is purring beside me as I write this.

We had a dinner guest coming at 6:30, around the same time W would arrive, stopping after work to pick up the menu’s much needed jalapeno and a handful of cilantro.

I stepped outside to move the several cat dishes which the wind had blown and I knew would be in the car’s path to the garage. Walking back I noticed the two garden features which are staked iron structures, each with a glass globe, one set in a sun and the other in a moon. They are tucked in the bed of ivy which runs up the gigantic elm tree. Keeping them straight is a cherished chore.

They are solar but in the six years that this has been their home, they have never activated to light up the globes. Until Friday night.

We call them Carol’s because of their past proximity to her house. When W was house-hunting, she fell in love with a townhome in the neighborhood, one street behind Carol’s. Sadly, she lost her higher bid to a cash sale, but for fun we went to the estate sale which followed and I purchased a few things, the sun & moon being a pair. If W had gotten the house, I’d have returned them to their garden spot.

Stopped dead in the driveway, I could not believe what I was seeing; one of the stakes was blinking color: green, orange, blue…

I thought W had probably tinkered with them; she does such things as little surprises to bring me joy. Not moving an inch, I texted her, but the very second I sent my message I knew it was not W’s doing. Carol was reaching out.

I’m accustomed to signs. I have received so many. I trust in them. I have no doubts. Carol was here!

I’m especially sure of it because after the many years being totally lightless, a globe shines brightly on the very night that Carol’s daughter from NYC has been invited to dinner.

She and W arrived at the same time. The three of us stood in awe watching the globe through watery eyes, putting on a show for us, this first and only night of all nights.