Salmon and Wine

Study of Form: Raymond Carver's "After the Denim"

Derrik Beckit sat behind the wheel of his new pick-up, staring straight ahead. Meredith Beckit, his mother, stared at her hands clasped in her lap. The radio was off, and the traffic light was red. She took a breath as though to speak, and unclasped her hands, reaching toward her son’s forearm, stopping midway as he glanced at her hand. She released the breath and reached for the radio dial. It played classic jazz, and the light turned green.

“We’re here,” Derrik said.

“Oh good,” said Meredith.

There was an open table waiting for them. The restaurant was almost full, the sound of strangers’ lunch conversations overpowering the soft rock station playing from the speakers in the ceiling.

She said, “Its been years.”

“Yeah, it’s been a long time,” Derrik Beckit replied, glancing up but avoiding his mother’s eyes. At the table behind her, he noticed a gorgeous young woman. She wore light, subtle make-up and a stylish button up top. Her long hair escaped over her shoulder, and she pushed it back thoughtlessly, revealing a fine, delicate jaw. She was sitting with a much older man, graying scruff matching his graying hair. She smiled, and he laughed loudly.

“You look well,” Meredith Beckit said. “How have you been?”

Derrik looked down at his menu again, then glanced up at Meredith. “I’ve been fine,” he said. “I’m going to be enlisting in an officer training program next month. Two years ago, I would never have believed I’d stay a military man.”

A smiling waiter with slick black hair stopped at their table, and took drink orders. The young woman was sipping a white wine and talking animatedly to the scruffy older guy, who was grasping a fork in his fist and stabbing at a piece of salmon. She had a nice voice. There was no way, Derrik thought, the old guy could be her boyfriend.

“But it looks like that’s how I’m going to be spending the next handful of years,” he continued, scanning the menu in earnest and finding the salmon dish just as the cheerful waiter returned.

He asked, “What about you,” as he looked past her. The young woman was looking in his direction, though she returned her gaze quickly to the older guy. Derrik grinned to himself, knowing what it meant. He didn’t look away. She glanced again, and he caught her gaze. Her eyes were green. Her cheeks turned red and she looked down into her lap.

“…and I’m really excited about that,” said Meredith. Derrik nodded and smiled, encouraging his mother to continue. He couldn’t help looking over. Again, he met those green eyes. The young woman smiled, and his face turned hot.

“I’ll be right back,” his mother said. He stood politely as she rose, and sat again as she made her way to the restroom. He stood again seconds later, and went to stand beside the table of the beautiful woman and her scruffy companion.

“Sir, I hope you are a relative of this young woman,” Derrik said.

The man put down his fork. “Pardon me?” he said and stared. “What’s it to you?”

“You know,” Derrik said.

The young woman held her fork in mid-bite.

“And not her boyfriend, or husband or something.”

The scruffy man laughed loudly and said, “You’ve got balls son. Why don’t you ask her?”

She smiled and put down her fork. “My name is Natalie,” she said.

He walked back to his table, clutching a carefully folded napkin. He was trembling.

When Meredith returned, she asked, “Where were we?” She began talking again, and Derrik nodded, thinking only of the young woman. He felt guilty that his mother was so happy, and that all he really wanted was to be home, on the phone. She reached across the table and placed a hand on his arm, the first time they’d touched in so many years. There were tears in her eyes as she said, “We need to do this again.”