It was the morning of Valentine's Day and Stan was the man, with a plan. No question.
Stan and Chardonnay had fallen into one of those time-warp traps that couples often find themselves caught up in. Chardonnay was an executive chef at a popular restaurant in town, while Stan spent his days operating a funky coffeehouse near the university. In their mid-30s, they were the proud parents of two boys, now in elementary school.
The problem was, Chardonnay worked mostly evenings, Stan always days. He dropped the kids off at school in the morning on his way to work; Chardonnay picked them up on her way to work and dropped them at a sitter's until Stan picked them up after work. Chardonnay had Sunday and Monday off and Stan, Friday and Saturday. Virtually anybody could see this wasn't a good situation.
So life, as the pair knew it, had come to revolve around the drudgery of driving the kids to school and home, going to and from work, sleeping and eating separately most of the time... And on, and on... In recent months, a quick peck on the cheek or quick cuddle was about all the affection they could muster.
Worse yet, Chardonnay was, of course, working the evening of Valentine's Day. And, leading up to what many couples consider "a big day," she had been busier than ever with restaurant, menu and wine list preparations – all so customers could enjoy their dinner and evening in style.
For his part, Stan had been busy at the coffeehouse, brewing Valentine's Blend coffee, stocking the cooler with heart-shaped cookies and decorating the premises with hearts and streamers of red and white. But, a couple of days before the big day, as he eyed his decorations, he fell into a funk and was quite depressed by the fact he and Chardonnay wouldn't be celebrating the day with everyone else. Daydreaming, he had caught himself checking out the tight asses and lithe bodies of a couple of the university students who worked for him.
In the midst of mentally undressing Jeannie as she leaned over the counter to take a customer's cash, he realized things had gotten out of hand between he and Chardonnay. Way out of hand. And so, mentally tearing his eyes off busty Jeannie, he worked out what he came to think of as Stan's Valentine's Plan. With a little shopping, he procured a few select items that he intended to use to make Chardonnay's Valentine's Day special. He stashed his goodies in the garage in preparation.
On the morning of the big day, Stan awoke to his alarm clock as always and felt Chardonnay's warmth beside him. After working late and then watching some TV as she always did, she wasn't ready to join the world. But Stan, as always, kissed her lightly. Chardonnay kissed back in her sleep and, as she opened her mouth slightly, Stan slid his tongue in. Their tongues met briefly and Chardonnay, still asleep really, moaned quietly. Stan felt himself stiffen at the sound.
After dropping the kids at school, Stan put in a half day at the coffeehouse before leaving Jeannie in charge. Yes, today was going to be different, he thought to himself. Today, while at work, all he had thought about was Chardonnay's body, never mind Jeannie's or Lynn's.
Five foot ten like he was, with fiery red hair she wore up when working, Chardonnay had never seemed to realize just how awesome her body was. Much of her height was due to her long, shapely legs, which, in the past, had regularly been wrapped around Stan.
She complained of being fat, like most women, but Stan didn't go for skeletal women; he liked them full-bodied, like Kim Basinger. Like Chardonnay. And, when not covered by the baggy sweatshirts she preferred around the house, or her chef's uniform at work, her breasts, Stan had always thought, were perfection. When they had started dating, he had just had to sneak into her underwear drawer to try and find out what size of bra she wore. He'd been too shy to ask her what size she was way back then, but he was thrilled when he found an unopened bra package which stated what he had suspected, in black and white; that the contents were for a woman of 40C size (Chardonnay, on the other hand, was not as shy and it was not long after they had first made love that she had laughingly pulled out a ruler to measure Stan's nine inches.
Stan drove home, then quickly cruised the house, cleaning up, chucking junk in closets or drawers, doing the dishes. He went into the garage and got his bag of goodies and took it into the kitchen. At 4 p.m., he drove to the sitter's home, picked up the boys and, as he had arranged with his sister Liz, dropped them at her place for a sleepover with uncle and auntie. Then it was back home.
Chardonnay wouldn't be home until after 11 p.m. so he had some time to prepare. He pulled out her cookbooks and found what he wanted; a recipe for chocolate sauce, made with real cocoa, cane sugar, cream and peppermint schnapps. He made a batch and set it aside, then cut up bananas, pineapple and pears for dipping. From the basement, he selected a bottle of champagne and put it in the fridge to chill. Heading for the living room, he pulled out Cheryl Fisher and Diana Krall CDs and loaded them into the player. Several trips between kitchen and living room ensured the volume was just right.
Finally, Stan thought, all was ready. He hit the couch, quaffed a beer and watched a hockey game.
It was about 11:30 p.m. when Stan heard Chardonnay's key in the lock. He hurried to the CD player, turned it on, then rushed to the door.
"Hey, babe." Chardonnay was obviously surprised to see Stan. He was almost always in bed by the time she got home from work. "Still up?"
"Yup," said Stan as he watched her take off her coat. "Thought I'd stay up for a change and surprise you." Stan noticed that Chardonnay's face was a little flushed, as it sometimes was after a particularly hectic night in the kitchen. She also appeared hyped after a successful night of making others' enjoyment possible.
"Awww, that's sweet. You didn't have to do that."
"Hey," he said, "why should it only be everybody else who gets to celebrate Valentine's Day?"
"That's true. The restaurant was packed tonight. Nothing but couples looking into each other's eyes. The lamb kebobs, crab cakes, and all the chocolate desserts were a big hit."
"Of course they were, babe. You made it all possible. You're the best. That's why people go to The Castle."
Coat off, Stan took Chardonnay's hand (isn't that a great name for a chef?) and led her to the kitchen. Reaching into the fridge, he pulled out the champagne and popped the cork. Then, pouring a couple of glasses of the cold bubbly, he handed one to Chardonnay and took one himself. "To us," he said. They clinked glasses and Stan took her in his arms. Chardonnay buried her face in his neck and, with Diana Krall in the background, they swayed gently together.
"Mmmm. This is nice," she mumbled. Pulling away a little, she took a long drink of champagne. Then, looking into Stan's eyes, she smiled and said, "Hi, we haven't seen much of each other lately."
"Hi. You're right, we haven't," he said, taking a drink.
"Are the kids okay?" asked Chardonnay, slightly spoiling the mood.
"They're fine. I took them to Liz's to sleep over. We have the place to ourselves for a change."
"Really? That is a change." She looked into his eyes again. "That' a really nice surprise."
"I thought it might be. Now," said Stan. "You just leave everything to me. You've had a hard night at work and I have a couple of surprises for you."
