Dan arrived at Linda’s home as she was about to start having dinner with her parents.

“Dan, what a pleasant surprise,” Linda’s father greeted him at the door with his usual warmth.

“How are you, Tom. I’m happy to see you.”

“Is that Dan,” Linda’s mom called from inside. “Come on in—we thought you’d moved to another country and forgot to tell us,” she said in her usual loud voice full of cheerful good will. “Come, have dinner with us. Linda, Dan is here, set another plate.”

After shaking Tom’s hand, he went in and gave Luisa, Linda’s mom, a hug and kiss on her plump cheek.

“You’re still in a suit. Come straight from work?” she asked. "Tell us about your first week. Getting anything out of Linda is like extracting blood from a turnip. You can squeeze all you want, but it just won’t give.” Dan smiled and shook his head. Luisa was a gregarious soul who loved people, good food and conversation, though not necessarily in that order. Her hobby was talking with people, probing their innermost secrets not out of malice but for her own sport. She loved to talk and loved people in a larger than life sort of way—like an operatic deva whose every word and action seemed both theatrical and yet perfectly natural for her. That was in sharp contrast to her husband who was a low-keyed academic one had to draw into conversation, at least until he grew comfortable with a person—or until he had drunk a glass or two of wine at dinner, when he became nearly as loquacious as his wife, albeit at a lower volume and without a hint of the natural theatricality that was his wife’s trademark. Both were exceptionally good people of whom Dan was very fond, and both treated him like family through the long, exclusive, (and to them apparently endless) courtship between him and their beautiful daughter they thought should long ago have been married to him.

Linda peeked in from her bedroom across the hall from the dining room where they were sitting. “Hi Dan, be right with you,” she called out.

“Ah, the butterfly finally emerges from her cocoon,” Luisa intoned in a stage whisper. I think she wants to look her best for you as you seem to have neglected her this week, you heartless, naughty boy.”

“Guilty as charged,” Dan admitted. “I was actually here a couple of times but very briefly and came in only once on a day you were both out visiting friends.”

“You fiend,” Luisa shrieked good naturedly. “How can you come by and not say hello?”

“Sorry, Luisa. Just a very busy week. I was only here earlier this week just to say hi and give a quick kiss and hug to Linda on my way home and yesterday to pick her up and drop her off after she helped me with shopping for lunch fixings for work.”

“We know,” Tom interjected. "She’s just teasing you."

“Why it’s no fun if you tell him, hon. I wanted to see him squirm just a little. He’s so cute when he gets flustered and flushes like a young girl.”

“Now that’s just mean, Luisa. Just for that I’ll have two helpings and leave you all hungry.” Dan said, laughing.

“No chance of that, Linda cooked enough for a pride of hungry lions. She must have been hoping you’d show up for dinner or intending to feed you later. She’s really quite a good cook, you know. And a marvelous house keeper, too. And won’t she just have the cutest babies?”

“You don’t have to sell her to him, honey. I’m pretty sure he already bought her,” Tom said laughing.

“Nonsense. No ring on the finger means he and she are still free to shop around. But you know what they say about he who waits too long . . .” She responded with a mock frown.

“Ah, the shop closes and they go home empty handed?” Dan offered.

“No, you silly boy—someone else buys the unique item you wanted and now can never have.”

“Thanks for the warning. I’d better make sure I chase off any late shoppers.” Dan replied, good naturedly.

“Alas, the item seems to have taken itself off the market.” She said, smiling, in mock dismay. There was no malice or real attempt at pressuring Dan to propose. She was simply teasing him and having a grand time of it. She was quite happy to have her daughter home as long as possible. Though she certainly would not have been upset if Dan did finally propose once and for all—they had been dating exclusively for seven years—with one unfortunate lengthy breakup she would not like to see repeated.

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Linda finally joined them, the gentle scent of her perfume wafting over Dan a step ahead of her as she leaned over him to give him a quick smooch. Her waist-long, light brown hair still sporting natural reddish and blonde highlights from the recent summer’s sun hung loose about her shoulders and caressed him as she leaned over to kiss him, smelling of citrus mixed with her likewise citrus-scented cologne. She then headed to the kitchen to start serving dinner. Meantime, Tom opened a bottle of Dan’s favorite wine, Marques de Riscal, a Rioja red that Dan long favored, and that Tom bought by the case especially for him on the many occasions he joined them for dinner. Meantime Dan rose, excusing himself.

“I’m going to help Linda with dinner, but first I need to wash my hands. I’ll be right back,” he said. He washed up in the bathroom down the hall past the kitchen, and joined Linda giving her a gentle hug from behind and nuzzling her ear. “How can I help,” he asked. “You can take the large serving tray to the table. I’ll get the salad bowl.” He did as he was asked and took a very large ceramic serving dish with an uncarved roast beef in the center surrounded by broiled potatoes, peppers, whole stewed tomatoes, onions and whole baby portabella mushrooms redolent of Spanish saffron, garlic, and white wine.

“This smells delicious, sweetie,” he told Linda, his mouth watering.

“Can’t have you living on prosciutto, salami and provolone sandwiches.” She retorted, smiling.

“Don’t forget the turkey,” he said.

“You only eat turkey if there’s no prosciutto, salami, capocollo, cantimpalo, jamon serrano or some equally hideous food invented by unscrupulous cardiologists to line their pockets,” she retorted, sticking her tongue out at him when he looked back at her frowning.

“Ah, that looks wonderful,” said Tom. “Set it down as close to me as possible, Dan. Linda, you can put the salad as far away from me as possible too, won’t you dear” he said, smiling broadly.

“You’re both just as bad,” Linda said. “You should marry each other and see who wins the race to become a widower.”

“But who would cook, then?” Luisa chimed in, straight faced.

“Dan of course,” Tom offered. “He’s actually an excellent cook—almost as good as you, dear,” he said, turning to Linda.

“Or we could just ask Linda to come and cook for us, Tom. Especially when we both reach 600 pounds and can’t get out of bed,” Dan offered grinning.

“Yes,” said Tom. “That’s a capital idea. Maybe then she can force feed us her salads, captive audience and all, don’t you know.”

“One more crack and I’ll take the whole serving dish to the neighbors,” Linda threatened in mock exasperation.

“No dear, but please, by all means take them the salad,” Luisa offered with a look of absolute serious innocence. At that they all laughed, even Linda.

“All right, now I feel guilty and have to have some of that delicious salad,” Dan said passing his salad dish to Linda who was closest to the salad bowl.

“Too little too late,” Linda retorted, filling Dan’s salad plate to capacity. Her salads were actually truly exceptional as she included all kinds of veggies beyond mixed greens, as well as beans, dried cranberries, freshly grated cheese, stuffed olives, slices of tomatoes on the vine, and some carefully diced fresh fruit. She topped it all with a variety of her own freshly made salad dressings. Today’s seemed to be a type of balsamic vinaigrette with a hint of chimichurri of all things. Dan could taste the extra virgin, first cold-pressed olive oil, with just a hint of fresh garlic and fresh parsley blended with the balsamic vinegar. That is a pairing that would never have occurred to him, but the effect was delicious, with a new surprise in every bite.

“Wonderful salad, Babe. As always,” Dan said.

“Don’t you believe him. He’s just being polite,” Tom offered with a smile, while happily chomping on a freshly carved slice of perfectly medium rare roast beef and a piece of deep yellow potato broiled with a generous amount of saffron in a wine and olive oil base.

Over dinner, the pleasant bantering and good natured teasing continued as Dan was quizzed about his week through the end of dessert—Linda’s flan (from Dan’s mother’s recipe), homemade cheesecake and espresso coffee with anis. Linda’s parents were Scottish (Tom) and Irish (Luisa), but they had happily adopted some of Dan’s predilections in food, not out of courtesy or to please him, but because they genuinely enjoyed the food and liquor of Spain as much as their own. Dan himself, and Linda, were actually fonder of Italian cuisine than any other, but in wine and spirits, and in some deserts (like flan, tarta de Santiago—the traditional almond based flat cake popular in Dan’s parents’ native Galicia—and tarta helada (ice cream cake that also included an actual cake base) their taste ran to Spain, with Italy a very close second. In his cooking too, though he loved Spanish cuisine from the simple tortilla de patatas (a deep-disk potato and onion omelet popular throughout Spain), to paella marinera (seafood paella), cazuela de mariscos (a seafood stew in green or red sauce similar to the Italian zuppa di pesce which he also loved), and, of course pulpo a la Gallega (boiled Galician octopus topped with olive oil, coarse salt and paprika), fried calamari, prawns in garlic sauce and a dozen other favorite tapas. But he cooked Italian dishes for himself and for Linda more often than anything else by far—likewise when they dined out. He loved to cook for his friends Lasagna, Veal Parmesan with boiled ham, prosciutto and muenster cheese in lieu of the more traditional mozzarella, cannelloni (his version: crepes filled with a mixture of ground beef, spinach, chopped boiled eggs, raisins, sliced olives and spices topped with fresh tomato sauce and cheese), freshly made ravioli, and many, many other primarily pasta- and meat-based dishes.

Hours later, Tom and Luisa reluctantly retired to their living room to give the couple some privacy. Dan gave them each a hug and said he would see them again tomorrow. Then he and Linda talked an hour or more before Dan finally left to make the short drive home—stuffed, happy, and with a sweet weariness telling him he needed sleep soon. He got home, called his parents to say good night (both were night owls), then went straight to bed and, in less than a minute, was dead to the world.