In the Vineyard Ch. 04

"So, you made it to bed. I'm here to tell you that you need to get out of bed sometime." Jimmy sounded tired.

"What about you? How did you manage to be in such good shape?"

"Simple. A few shots of Scotch I made last for hours - no wine, no pot, lots of food, and ended up ahead at poker. And, I crashed for a few hours - just got up myself. But, I'll be in bed early tonight." He looked up. "You, my friend, need to get out of bed and do something before this day is gone. I'll make some coffee." He started toward the kitchen.

"Hey, Jimmy."

"Whaaat?" Jimmy was yelling as he ran the water for coffee.

"Do me a favor? Please go in my office and bring me the stack of mail there - you know, magazines, the stuff I don't read every day. And, can you get today's mail too?"

"No prob. I'll get the coffee started. You do me a favor, and get your ass down here to drink a cup. And, I'd say take a couple of aspirin, too."

Miles groaned again. "I'll try."

Jimmy added the grinds to the coffee maker and went out the door. Miles stood up, gingerly. He felt a little weak, but not bad. He couldn't remember the last time he'd tied one on - had to be something like his undergrad graduation. By the time he'd finished his MBA, he was far too into his work to risk a celebration that might impact his performance, even for a day.

Jimmy went past the office first. He had his own key Miles had given him for emergencies. He unlocked the door and picked up the pile of mail. He started to leaf through it as he walked down the hall to the outside doors. He opened the overhead door partway, the clicked the opener to shut it, ducking underneath before it came down. He walked around the corner to the winery entrance. Today's mail would still be in the winery - since Miles hadn't opened his office, it couldn't be taken there. Jimmy went inside and looked for a pile. He saw it near the cash register and picked it up. There were a few customers milling around, the Friday night crowd was beginning to show up. Although the winery didn't feature steak cookouts on Fridays, they had live music until the end of the picking season, and various foods were offered including a daily soup choice, burgers, wood fired pizzas and various appetizer trays.

"Hey, what're you doing?" Kayla came out from behind the tasting bar where she had been putting glasses away.

"Getting the mail. For Miles. He's ill today."

"Today? Its tonight. Anyway, I heard. From Brandon. About how 'ill' Miles is." She pouted at Jimmy. "Does wittle Miles need a nurse? I can take care of him."

"I'm doing fine, thanks anyway," Jimmy said. "Wittle Miles like wittle Jimmy taking care of him." He grinned at her. She scowled in return.

Jimmy kept leafing through the mail. He saw something and stopped. Now, how did I miss this earlier, he thought. I looked through the mail all week. No, wait, he remembered. There was one day I missed. "Holy shit," he said, and took off out the door.

Kayla looked at him. She had a feeling she knew what it was. "Holy shit." She said to herself.

"Miles," Jimmy was yelling. He burst through the door. Miles was sitting at the table, drinking a mug of coffee, wearing a bathrobe. He looked a little pale, his eyes were red, but otherwise normal.

"Jimmy, my friend. I won't let this day be a total waste. I will peruse my trade journals and then I'll get in the shower, and perhaps greet some of the customers in an hour or so. " He looked at Jimmy. "I do appreciate your help, though."

"No, Miles, you've got to look at this. It's from HER!"

"What do you mean HER?" But Miles already knew and started toward the pile Jimmy was holding. He saw the envelope and opened it. He read the contents and looked up. "What's the date? Shit, that's tonight. What time is it?" He looked at the clock. "No way I can make it. Jimmy, you call her. Tell her I'm sick."

"What's the deal, man?"

"Look at this. Where did you find it? Its dated five days ago, mailed on Monday and just got here?"

"No, man. It was in your office. Its been here for at least a day. In fact, it was near the bottom of the pile. It's been here for a few days. Someone messed up sorting your mail. Anything that says 'personal and confidential' should be in the read now mail." Jimmy had a guess who got the mail that day. But Miles wasn't listening.

"She is asking me over tonight, at 7. And, only call if I can't make it. That means I expected. Look at me. I'm a mess. And, its an hour drive there. What time is it? Its already seven." He grabbed Jimmy. "I can't call her, she'll think I'm trying to get out of it. You call her, and tell her I'm too sick to move."

"But, it's not true."

"What else can I do? Tell her to make it another night. Make it tomorrow, whenever."

Jimmy looked over the invitation. "Look, Miles. " He remembered the radio program from the other night. "I'm sure she's had this planned. She would have done all sorts of things, like clean her place, get her hair done, all of those chick things. You can't call her at the eleventh hour and claim sick. " He looked at the invitation again. "Miles it's clear. You have to go. Better late than never!"

Miles looked at him in panic. "I look like shit. I feel like shit. What am I supposed to do?"

"Here's what we do. Numero Uno - you get in the shower. I'll call her and make your excuses to be late. Next, you get dressed. Your friend Jimmy will take care of the little details, like buying flowers or something, so you don't show up empty-handed. Next, after you are on your way, you get your cell phone out and call her to tell her you are on your way. And apologize again for being late."

Miles started to protest, but Jimmy was walking past him into the bathroom, turning on the shower. Miles gulped down the coffee and went into the bathroom. Jimmy looked again at the card and picked up the phone.

Ana had everything in place by six-thirty, just in case he was early. She lit and blew out candles - didn't want to waste them. She had settled on wearing a loose fitting button front blue batik print dress. It had an adjustable tie in the back with which she could show off her slim waist. She wore high heeled slide on sandals. She had chosen simple jewelry, a blue beaded choker and matching earrings. She let her hair dry naturally, and it hung to her shoulders, thick and full of waves, with some streaks of gold from the sun. She was both nervous and excited. As the clocked advanced, now it was seven, she began to pace. She felt the wine, it was cool but not too cold. She looked out the window. Well, he could be a few minutes late, maybe he didn't gauge the distance property. She did another walk around the condo. She went into the bathroom and checked her hair and makeup. Seven fifteen. She sat and waited by the door. She finally turned on the television, keeping an ear out the door. Seven thirty.

The phone rang. She jumped. She started for it, then slowed. She was starting to become angry. How dare he call her a half hour late to make excuses! She assumed he had more integrity than that. Surely he would know that she had made preparations. But, someone like Miles with women pursuing him all of the time, he would think nothing of blowing her off. He'd assume that she'd wait, just like all of the other women he had falling all over him. She looked at the phone, let it ring, and sat back down. Well, she wouldn't sit around here and wait all night for Miles Delong! The telephone stopped.

Jimmy frowned and hung up. How could she not be there? He looked and called the other number, the cell phone. It rang in Ana's car, unheard. He hung up when the voicemail came on.

Ana started to feel bad. Maybe there was a legitimate problem. Maybe something went wrong. Maybe Miles had a valid excuse for not showing up. At least he was calling. That was better than just ignoring her. And, if he really didn't want to see her, she should find that out now and get over him before anything really happened. Then, she thought about her mother. Maybe Miles thought that she was just trying to 'sow wild oats" before remarrying Greg. He and Greg even knew one another. Maybe he looked at the whole thing as some joke.

She decided that she'd answer the phone if another call came. But, no sound. She picked up the receiver to make certain there was a dial tone. There was. Eight o'clock. Even if he was late, he should be here by now. She was now convinced that Miles was just taking advantage of her. Did she look that desperate? The thought upset her. She got her purse and keys. She had to go somewhere before she went crazy. Her usual hangout was the bookstore about a half mile away. They had live musical entertainment and served glasses of wines, beers and various coffees. Better than being home alone. She went outside, locking the door. When she got in the car, she could see that someone had called, but no message was left. Probably just Greg, anyway, she thought.

Jimmy decided against telling Miles that there was no answer. Maybe her telephone's ringer was off. He decided instead to make it his goal to get Miles down the road as quickly as possible.

"Hurry up in there, " he said toward the bathroom. "And Miles, don't forget to even up that macho facial hair. I assume you can dress yourself. I'd suggest wear a jacket, maybe not a tie, though. I'm going to run down to the grocery store. I'll be back in fifteen. Be ready to leave when I get back!"

Miles was shampooing his hair. The shower felt good and he felt pretty close to normal. Stay away from the demon liquor, he admonished himself. You learned years ago, he reminded himself, wine is ok, beer sometimes, but no spirits! Miles shut off the shower and wrapped a towel around himself. He cleaned the steam off of the mirror with a washcloth. He looked at himself. His mustache was normal, the darkening outline of the beard clung to his face. He picked up the razor and neatened the lines. He wouldn't shave it off, not this close to the end of the harvest. It was a superstition with him. He ran a comb through his hair, thinking briefly how lucky he was that he hadn't experienced any real hair loss. He kept his dark blond hair cut in long layers, which hung down around his neck at the bottom.

The sun gave him a perpetual lightened effect. He thought for a minute of the old version of himself, that Miles would have never tolerated the shaggy mane Miles wore now - but he found that it was low maintenance, comfortable and added to his image as artesian winemaker. Miles left the towel behind and went upstairs trying to decide what to wear. Glancing at the clock - after eight now. He hoped that Jimmy had made a believable excuse. Miles discarded his silk sportcoat of the other day - he needed something different. He opened one of the metal utility chests he used as a closet. He found what he was looking for, a wine colored linen sport coat. He decided to wear black linen slacks and a black striped cotton dress shirt, with no tie. He put on his only black shoes - actually a pair of work boots that were luckily clean, having just returned from a shoe shop for a heel repair. He took another look in the bedroom mirror at his hair - it was almost dry. He ran the comb through it one last time as Jimmy came in the door.

"Jimmy! You came back!"

"You're sounding pretty chipper!" Jimmy was carrying a paper grocery sack.

Miles descended the stairs. "Looking sharp, man," Jimmy said. "Look at what I got for you. Sun dried tomatoes in oil. Roasted Peppers. Fresh baked baguette." Miles could see the bread sticking out of the top of the bag. "And some assorted olives. You can't show up empty handed. And, I put the bouquet of flowers in your truck. Here, take this and get out of here. " Miles went out the door toward his truck.

"Wait!" Jimmy said, following him. "Here's the card. You have to call her, once you get on the road. The number's in here. And the map"

Miles thanked him and climbed up into the truck. He was relieved to see that he still had a half tank of gas. Eight forty-five. He'd be hours late. But, hopefully, she was still waiting for him.