Page 38 of Wine & Dine

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Wine and dine

[Garrett]

A weekend away seems like the perfect thing for Dolores. She needs to see another part of California before she returns home, though I don’t like to think of her going back to Georgia. Not to mention, I want to visit the winery for ideas. My personal investment? I’d like to own a vineyard. It gives me a way to honor my granddad—who invested in me and always wanted land—while creating something long term. A retirement plan even though I’m way too young to retire. I still have a lot of buying and selling inside me yet. My next purchase, though, needs to be a long-term purchase for me.

“Where are we going?” she asks as I enter her brother’s apartment. It’s hard to remember it’s his as we’ve spent the past few nights in here. I’m feeling like a teenager each night as we kiss and kiss and kiss some more with wandering hands but respectful boundaries. I don’t need to cross the line, but I want to with her. What’s that saying: parting is such sweet sorrow. The hardest part of each evening—is leaving. A weekend retreat will allow us to spend the nights together.

“Napa.”

“As in Napa Valley?” She stops pacing to her suitcase and spins to face me.

“Yes. Wine country. Did you bring a dress?”

“I didn’t know I needed one.” She actually doesn’t, but I’d like to see her in the black dress I had sent to the dance studio again, and if we eat at the restaurant, she may want to dress up.

“Bring the black one I bought you.” She stares at me, folding something over her hands.

“You need to stop buying me things. You kind of spoil me.” She isn’t being coy like some women can be, or even encouraging me to spend more on her. She’s stating a fact, but I find I enjoy spoiling her.

“It’s my pleasure,” I say, stepping up to her and removing the item from her twisting fingers. It’s a T-shirt material, and I ask her if she needs it. It looks extra large, like a sleep item. Reaching for it, she folds it and stuffs it in the suitcase.

“What about Wally?”

“He’s going with us. They have a place to keep him while we stay at the inn.”

“An inn,” she states. Now she does sound coy. “How quaint.”

“I’m hoping so.”

As we drive north, she asks about my upbringing in southern Missouri. I ask about her diner. She has a wealth of knowledge about the food industry, and I’m glad I asked her to visit the winery. She might have an eye for things I won’t notice, but I haven’t told her my dream yet. I’m nervous. I want her to like what I have planned.

One thing we have in common is a deep respect and admiration for our grandparents. I tell her more about Granddad before he died.

“He was a spirited old coot.” I throw my voice to add a Southern drawl. “He always told me nothing was impossible.”

“Sounds a little like Magnolia. She didn’t believe everything was for everyone, but she did believe in me.”

“You’ve never told me, why do you call your grandmother Magnolia?”

“When we were young, her mother was still alive and Magnolia didn’t want the same title as her mother. It made her feel old.” She chuckles and I smile.

“So, what do you mean everything for everyone?”

“Magnolia knew love had limits.”

I don’t like the sound of that, but I also know all too well she’s right. I’d been in love once. I’d never do it again.

“Some people just don’t get the love they deserve,” she adds.

“Wow, what a downer.”

Dolores chuckles. “I guess it is.”

“Have you been in love?”

“I thought I was. His name was James, and he was the boy next door with a bad boy reputation. We fooled around a lot, but then he fell in love with someone else.”