Lorne and Catherine finished their hug, he held her chair for her, and they sat again at the table to read the menus. He paused partway through scanning the same menu he had read on three previous occasions. "The specials — they all sound wonderful." He leaned to kiss her ear and whisper, "Don't look around. The timing of service. We're on camera." He nibbled her earlobe. "Maybe sound. Also, likely a camera at the reception desk the other day."

She nodded and stroked his cheek. "Yeah, I agree. We should decide what to order."

"Want to give them another chance with the Wellington?"

"You?"

"There's a much better chance to get it rare tonight, though the venison chop sounds good."

"Let's be fair. We should give them the opportunity to do the Wellington again."

"What about the entrées?" He tilted his head. "Same ones?"

"Canned escargots are no real challenge. Let's see what Chef can do searing and presenting jumbo scallops. They're a wonderful ingredient, but easy to mess up."

"What about the crab? Isn't that the plate which was so popular with all the judges when Feenie beat Morimoto?"

"Yeah, old history. I've watched that episode so many times. A real classic. When was that? Our final undergrad year, so early 2005. That's what hooked me into reviewing dining."

"Crazy, isn't it? Feenie's the first of only two Canadian Iron Chefs. One of the few from anywhere ever to beat Morimoto, and then a few years later his Lumière fails." Lorne shook his head. "He was at the top with everything. Celebrity dinners, cookbooks, TV cooking series. Then the partnership coup and Lumière, poof."

"Let's have the chef show us the crab. I've had many others attempt their versions of it. So few get it right."

"Okay... Scallops and crab to share, then the Wellington."

They closed their menus and within half a minute, they heard the click of the door opening.

Catherine leaned to kiss Lorne's cheek and nibble his earlobe. "Yeah, way too obvious," she whispered.

"Ready to order?" the waitress asked as she approached.

Lorne ordered for them, mentioning they wished to share the entrées.

"That's automatically shared. The Wellington is prepared for two."

"I'm not talking about the main. We want to share the entrées, the entries to the meal, the appetisers."

"Sorry, Sir." The waitress shook her head and laughed. "We have so many American tourists here. Guess I got waylaid." With an impish grin, she continued, "Ignorant, aren't they?" She quietly mouthed as she wrote, "Share entrées."

She left and was soon replaced by the sommelier who stood at the table checking his notes. "A big Viognier would show both seafood plates to advantage. The 2012 Liquidity is one of the best matches for the crab. It's magical with the scallops."

Catherine nodded. "That sounds wonderful. I love their wines. Their Viognier has moved steadily toward the northern Rhône style over the years."

"It always reminds me of Condrieu now," the sommelier agreed, then left to get the wine.

A waiter brought in a basket with a selection of bread rolls and an iced dish with curls of butter and placed them on the table. After he had left, Lorne leaned to kiss Catherine and whispered, "Notice? The foil-wrapped butter pats didn't make it up the stairs."

She snickered as she selected a dark multi-grain roll and broke it. "Very fresh. Seems house-baked."

The sommelier came in with the wine, opened it and poured.

"So pleased to see everybody finally getting rid of corks," Catherine said, as she nosed her glass and nodded.

"Not everyone." Lorne chuckled. "Many French still insist on spoiling their wines, particularly the high-priced ones."

As the sommelier began pouring her glass, she put up a hand. "Only a bit for me." She smiled, looked down and patted her belly. "Early pregnancy."

He smiled back and stopped, then began pouring Lorne's glass. "Same amount for me." He smiled up at the sommelier. "Early fatherhood."

As the sommelier left, the waitress returned. "Chef said there was a run on the beef Wellington this evening, he's out of beef tenderloin. He suggests he replace it with venison tenderloin. He's started on it already."

"I like his initiative. Quick thinking, adaptable." Catherine smiled up at her. "Sounds wonderful. We were deliberating between the beef Wellington and the venison chop anyway. Great compromise."

After the waitress had left, they sat staring at each other and lightly touching as they talked about the pregnancy. "My breasts always get tender when I ovulate. Yesterday, today." She put a hand to her right breast and lightly pressed, then a bit harder. "Still a bit, but not so much now." She lowered her hand to her belly and rubbed. "The egg is here." She nodded and smiled at him. "Yeah, it's here."

They kissed again. He put his hand on hers, and together they stroked her belly. "Early, though, you said you're in tune with the moon. It's not full for a little while yet." He pointed out the window at the glow from the sunset. "It should rise over there, above the islands in a few minutes."

She followed his point with her eyes. "They say deep emotional upheaval can change the timing. Sounds like me the last few days. Such intense emotions. Fuck! So intense." She took his extended hand and put it to her breast and pressed it. "God, I love you."

The click of the door behind them interrupted their kiss. The waitress and an assistant came in with four plates. "Sorry to disturb your rapture." They set two plates in front of each of them. "Chef says bon appétit. Anything I can bring you?"

Catherine looked up at her. "Not that I can think of, thank you. This looks superb. Beautiful presentations."

She took out her iPhone and shot photos of the plates from a variety of angles, with and without flash. "Always good to have food porn images on the blogs."

They each began with the crab ravioli. "He got the mayonnaise right — Japanese tang — delicious." He licked his lips.

"Great texture on the pasta. Delicate."

"The beurre blanc with the black truffle. Superb balance."

"He's nailed this one. How's the scallop dish?"

"Just heading there. Superb plating. Love the little plaited basket with the sauce. Looks to be woven lemongrass."

She cut a scallop in two and examined it. "Seems perfectly done, fast seared ends, slightly warmed centres. Exactly as you did them at Mum and Dad's." Spearing a half, she dipped it in the sauce and popped it into her mouth. "Great sauce, Wow! It balances the sweetness of the scallop superbly." She took a sip of her Viognier. "Sublime combination."

As they enjoyed their entrées, they spotted the full moon peek its rim over the hills of Bowen Island. They put their cutlery down in unison and moved their hands to her belly. "We must be. So many messages. So ethereal."

They gazed into each other's eyes with tears streaming down their cheeks as they rose, faces wide with smiles. After another long hug and kiss, they sat, wiped their faces and continued with the plates as they watched the moon emerge above the horizon. "We must be."