Chuck and Harry sat at the game table, carefully scrambling around the dominoes while their wives prepared sandwiches in the kitchen. The soft clink of plates and conversation drifted through the doorway along with the smell of tuna salad.
"So," Harry said, adjusting his glasses, "Yeah, we seen where you posted a picture of y’all and Margaret looked nice last night. You two go somewhere special?"
Chuck nodded, squinting his eyes at his dominoes and slams down a dominoes on the table saying big six on the board. "Oh yeah, we tried that new restaurant down on Main Street. Fancy place, high class waitress, with white tablecloths and everything. Food was delicious."
"Been wanting to take Rose there," Harry said. "What's it called again?"
Chuck's face scrunched up. He snapped his fingers repeatedly, "It's... you know... it's..." He huffed in frustration. "What's the name of that flower? The one with all the petals and thorns?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You mean a rose?"
Chuck's face brightened. "Yes, that's it!" He turned toward the kitchen and hollered, "Hey Rose! What's the name of that restaurant we went to last night?"
From the kitchen came the sounds of fork and knifes clattering onto a plates. Then silence. Why is your husband asking me that? Rose asked Margaret. Then Rose's voice, dry and cracking: "Are you asking me because you want to know, or because I don’t know where you going with this Chuck or did you forget?"
Margaret's erupted from the kitchen. "What the hell you doing, Chuck!"
Chuck looked at Harry with genuine confusion. "What? No, I just—" He stopped, mouth hanging open as realization dawned. "Oh."
“Oh your ass” Harry said out of anger.
"It's The Fresh Green Garden," Margaret called out, appearing in the doorway with a tray of sandwiches and a smirk. "And for your information, I'm considering changing my name to 'Cloud Memory' since you can’t never remember the places you had visited."
Rose followed behind with the drinks, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "Or the restaurant names with bifocals on!"
'Thick focals too'!" Margaret added.
Chuck's face turned red as the women continued with laughter. Harry patted his friend's shoulder sympathetically, telling him “that wasn’t a good joke”, though he couldn't stop his own laughing.
"Next time," Chuck grumbled, reaching for a sandwich, "we're playing Scrabble."