I think it was Tuesday when my boyfriend asked me to cook dinner for tonight. He and I were enjoying a fleeting hour together before bed, when he mentioned our mutual friend V (she is currently getting a divorce from my boyfriend's great friend J).

My boyfriend told V that he (and I) would love to have her over and cook her dinner, but that she hedged at his offer. "Maybe," he said, "it was weird of me to offer to cook for her."

I inquired, "Did you say you were cooking with your shirt off?"

"No," he smiled, "my pants."

Well, as the story goes, he asked me to invite V over for dinner. I did, because I love him and it's a request I had no problem fulfilling. And V, well, she eagerly agreed.

It's Friday. And tonight, I cook. It's beef tenderloin with rosemary-garlic potatoes and either fresh spinach or sauteed spinach on the selective menu. My boyfriend picked up a Malbec that will be perfect for the tenderloin. And for dessert, luckily and perfectly on time, my mom just happened to overnight a fresh, Iowa, homemade apple strudel.

Life is good, my friends. One, because if I'm cooking, my boyfriend is doing dishes. And two, there's always faith he's bringing me flowers. ;-)