Full circle

We sparkled.

The Chicago winter night tried to bite but reconsidered. Three lovely ladies made their way to the American Girl Place for a show in the theater and dinner in the cafe. Two of the ladies held gloved hands. One anticipated her homecoming.

The glow from the door spilled out onto the sidewalk and it was in this light Aidan held up Samantha and tenderly told her “you are home…” I always note my full-circle moments but never entertained the idea Aidan thought of the trip in such a manner. I tried to stiffle my giggle at her delicious sincerity—it was hard not to melt at that moment. We entered.

The first stop on our night-on-the-block was the theater, where we enjoyed The American Girsl Revue. It was excellent and moved me to tears several times. The lighting, the intimate setting, the sparse stage, music, and the astonishing talent of the girls in the cast surprised me. I wondered how a theater housed in a store could be decent, but it was top-notch and I highly recommend seeing the show to anyone who visits.

After the show was over we moved upstairs to the cafe. At 7:30 the staff opened two sets of double doors to the dining room and we were ushered to our table. A special little chair was provided for Samantha, along with her own plate and cup. The decor was entirely done in black, white, and bright pink. Lamps above the tables lining the windows overlooking Chicago Avenue were covered in flowers. The giant Christmas tree still stood, covered in gold and pink ornaments. Our waiter, Andrew, was very friendly and sprung right into action, bringing mini warm cinnamon rolls to our table as a greeting. We perused the menu and had a difficult time settling on our entree choices. I went with the Tilapia Florentine and Aidan ordered the Chicken Pot Pie.

In between courses we played with the game on our table. It was a little box full of slips of paper with printed questions, like “would you rather swim at a lake, ocean, or pool?” We took turns asking each other about our best memories, dreams, likes and dislikes, and opinions. One of the slips of paper prompted her to ask me to describe myself in one word. I thought about it for a long time until she got impatient, so I settled on the very-trusty “Nice!” and she laughed.

“No, mom. I think the word to describe you is complicated.” I almost choked on my mousse.

We finished our dinner and begrudgingly left the store. It was closing for the night.

Walking back to our hotel, the wind tried to bite, but couldn’t.