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He had been too well taught, and he wanted to drink and drift around. "On the porch, yes?" Gino picked up the board and carried it to an outside table. Joe followed reluctantly. "Wine, Joe! Wine for chess! The Merlot." He rubbed his hands together cheerfully. Joe gave up and fetched a bottle and two glasses from the kitchen.
He bought a bottle of Merlot and a six pack of ale. He bought organic corn chips made with what he thought was the good kind of fat. She said that she wanted to make pies. Better leave that stuff to her, he thought. We can get baking dishes at The Whip and Spoon on Commercial Street. It would be nice if that programming work came through. He should follow up with Gifford Sims.
"I think it's a red meat night." "Lamb? Lots of garlic, rosemary and Dijon crust? New potatoes?" "Sold. I'll have a glass of Kendall Jackson Merlot." Claudine brought him a large glass of wine, extra full. Oliver was a regular. He ate there once a week or so on nights when he wanted to think. They left him alone to make notes and sketches, to stare out the window at the quiet street.
"Can't buy Friskies on my good looks," he said. That was how work came in for him two weeks here, six months there. He got by, barely. The day drifted along. He took a nap, watched a basketball game on TV, and cleaned, minimally, for his mother's inspection. At seven, he walked down to George's. "Foundrymen's Red!" he said, holding up a liter of Merlot. "Foundry workers, I should say."
The business they talked was really about people. No one seemed interested in how to do anything just in who said what to whom during the endless reshuffling of executive ranks. Oliver knocked down as much of the Merlot, a good bottle, as he decently could. There was a sharp cheddar, Havarti, Brie, a salsa, an avocado dip, baby carrots, and various kinds of chips.
Rupert had never wanted to bother with a tree. At one-thirty, they walked across a graveled driveway in Falmouth and knocked on Bogdolf Eric's door. Oliver was carrying Emma; Jennifer held a canvas bag containing a fat beeswax candle and two bottles of wine, a Chardonnay and a Merlot. "Ah, Jennifer!" "Eric," she said, handing him the bag and accepting his hug at the same time.
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