by Opal Cole
Maureen looked at him and when he looked back, she said: "Squeak! Squeak!"
He looked at me without knowing what to think or to say. I just shrugged.
"Hi, Peter. This is your little mouse. Squeak! Squeak!"
He gave up and asked for help. "James, could you explain to me what is happening?"
"Peter, remember when you told me that 'that little girl' was not for me, since she was just a 'little mouse'? The little mouse just wanted to show you how wrong you were!"
Peter blushed all over -- the first time I had ever seen this on a man and started to say something. He stopped and started again, and stopped. I reminded him of the saying that once you discovered that you were in a hole, you should stop digging? He took my advice.
"Maureen, I apologize for my remarks. You are definitively not a little girl, nor are you a little mouse. You are a beautiful and stunning woman, and I start to wonder whether James is the right person for you. Knowing him, I believe that you deserve better!"
"Peter, I believe that you lost another friend right now!"
Maureen looked at me with that big smile of hers and took my hand.
"Peter, he's everything I want in this life, and I know that he thinks the same about me. Since you introduced me to him, I forgive you the little mouse. Squeak!"
She looked around and saw most faces still staring at her. For them, Peter and I did not exist.
The decoration of the restaurant was exquisite, modern with Scandinavian decors. The harbor views through the floor to ceiling windows were spectacular with the Harbor Bridge to the left and the Opera House to the right. It was a quiet environment with piano music just loud enough to drown our neighbors' individual conversations. Crisp white cloths and fine glassware instilled a sense of formality. Slowly the situation came almost back to normal since males were straightened out by their wives and women were brought back to their senses. They never stopped glancing at Maureen, however, but now more discreet.
The maître arrived and asked whether he could be of service now, or whether we wanted a few more minutes. We looked at Maureen and she decided to order now. It was an almost fixed menu, with four courses and two choices within each course. I knew what I wanted almost immediately, but Maureen and Peter started to discuss food and matching wines. Once the maître realized that he had two oenophiles at the table, he called the sommelier and the discussion started. They looked at me occasionally, but perceived rapidly that I was out of their class.
I selected the raw smoked wagyu, the confit pig jowl (I had never even heard of this dish before) and the duck. After ten minutes of hearing a heated discussion on matching wines, old world against new world, grape against grape, vintage against vintage, or a combination of all three, I told them that I liked to drink wines, not to philosophize about them, and asked Maureen to select whatever wine she thought was appropriate. I got up and admired the views over the harbor and the close by Opera House. The sea was chunky, but there were still sailing boats on the water, and the Manly Ferry was just leaving the terminal.
Finally, the three reached a conclusion and called me back. The sommelier complimented me on my fiancé having such an extensive knowledge already at her young age, and that my friend was also a superb connoisseur. Whilst they were agonizing over the selections, we had a bottle of the Charles Heidsieck Brut Réserve Champagne.
Peter had the same entrée as I and Maureen selected the Young Bamboo shoots with abalone. We had the Domaine de Trévallon Vin de Pays and she the Trimbach Clos Ste Hune Grand Cru, a Pinot Gris. For the second dish, Peter selected the pig jowl that I had already asked for, and Maureen the quail with more abalone. That was apparently easy: she the Whisson Lake Le Gris de Noir and we the Tyrrell's Vat 9. Then it became difficult: Maureen had the snapper and could stay with her wine, but Peter wanted the lamb and I the duck. A major discussion evolved, and I was told that I would drink the Phillip Bass The Estate Geelong Pinot Noir, and he the Stonier Reserve, both had fortunately half bottles. They were happy: Maureen, Peter and the sommelier (he I could understand as the wine bill was now way over one thousand dollars).
When he started to take the wine order, I decided to throw some harsh reality into their lives.
"People, I hate to spoil the fun, but did you realize that you went way overboard? Count the bottles of wine you are going to order: you will see there are seven. Who is going to drink all that? I will perhaps drink one bottle: that leaves three bottles for each of you two. Do you want me to call the hospital now or only later?"
They looked at each other and at the sommelier, who realized his bill was gone.
"May I suggest Plan B? The Rocks has a very expansive list of wine by the glass, and I am certain that our friend here can match these wines perfectly with the dishes. After all, we are here to eat, not to get tipsy. If one wants another glass of the same wine, wonderful, order it, but at least we will enjoy the food and the wine. Otherwise you will lose the joy of being here after an hour and tomorrow you will be dead with a hangover."
Now all three looked at me.
"James, you're a spoilsport, but unfortunately, you're right, but it was fun, Maureen, wasn't it?" Peter said.
Now the discussion started again, but now the selections were more restricted and decisions were made faster. The sommelier glared at me, but I just shrugged. He had tried to gorge his customers and I did not like this.
The first dishes arrived, and they were as well prepared and presented as had been promised. The wine was excellent and well matched. Slowly the other dishes came and at the end, we were very satisfied with the quality of the food and the service. The dessert was Snow egg and a glass of the Inniskillin Icewine from Canada, a courtesy of The Rocks.
I asked for the bill and Peter looked at me, seemingly wondering whether I would remember that I had offered to pay -- well, I had been told to offer to pay if I remembered right. I nodded telling him to relax. "Since this is your invitation, you could pay the tips and I'll pay the bill. OK?"
Now I understood Peter's reluctance to go to this restaurant. It was fabulous, but so was the bill. I waited for Maureen to go to the restroom and told him that his part was 250 dollars.
"Just for tips?" he groaned.
"You want to pay the bill, too?"
He declined the offer and gave me the money, and I paid with my card. As I had thought before, it is nice to have the money to burn on these occasions, but only as long as they did not become a routine.
Before we left, I called the maître and told him that I did not like the attitude of the sommelier. He was supposed to help the customer to select the wines they wanted and to enjoy the combination of food and wine, but not to flood them with expensive wines without any regard whether it made sense or not. He was surprised, apologized and said that he would talk to him about this. He asked me also to come back and the next meal would be a courtesy of the Rocks; he did not say anything about the wine, however.
When we said good-bye, Peter took Maureen's hand and kissed it. "You are a very pleasant joy for my eyes; James is very happy to have you, and I'm happy that I got the two of you together."
Maureen leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheeks. "Peter, I'll never forget this. You are my friend -- and if this little mouse ever needs help, she'll come to you." She fluttered her eye lashes at him. "Squeak!"
We all laughed and went home.
When we arrived, Maureen was visibly tired. She asked me to help her out of her dress; by the way, it was not transparent, it gave, however, imagination free room to fantasize, and she was mine again, not anymore that wondrous creature from outer space. She stumbled into the bathroom to brush her teeth and lay down, waiting for me. I did whatever was necessary for me and went back to the bedroom. There she was, stretched out on her side, and soundly asleep. I got into our bed and kissed her lightly on her lips and the two tips of her breasts. She whispered: "James, I promised you a reward, but I'm tired. You can have me if you want, but could we wait for to
morrow?"
I kissed her and she was asleep again. What expectations I had for this day and how differently it turned out! But she was my love, and as long as she was happy, so was I.
When I woke up, she was still asleep. I slowly crept out of the bed, brushed my teeth and went to make coffee. Reading the newspaper and drinking my first cup of the day, I was suddenly pummeled by a crying Maureen.
"You left me! How could you do this? I love you and you left me!"
I did not understand anything and took her in my arms. "What happened, my love? Did you have a nightmare?"
She looked at me and continued crying.
"You left me and walked away from me! You don't love me anymore! Why did you do this?"
I still did not understand anything and looking into her eyes, said quite firmly: "Maureen, wake up! What is happening to you?"
Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at me quite scared. "James, I woke up and you were not there. I had dreamed that you left Australia and left me behind. I had begged you to take me with you, but you just laughed and said that there were other women in other countries. How could you do this?"
I shook her a bit and demanded that she woke up. "Maureen, you're with me and you had a bad dream. Wake up!"
She shook herself and observed me intently. Finally, with her eyes wide open, she seemed to wake up. "James, I dreamed that you left me!"
"Maureen, open your eyes and look around you! Does this seem that you are alone? Do you feel my arms around you?" and I kissed her "and does this kiss seem real enough for you?"
She kissed me and embraced me with all her force. "You're here! You did not go away! But what happened?"
I continued to embrace her and said that nightmares did occur. They were bad dreams, however, and not reality. Why she dreamed this specific bad dream? I did not know, but asked her whether she remembered yesterday? She had gone out and left me alone, spending her day in a spa and coming home a different woman, not her natural self, but a stunning production of a beautiful woman. That was not my Maureen, and she knew it. Perhaps she had sensed that I was not very comfortable with that picture. Not that I did not appreciate her beauty and the effort she had gone through, but for me she would always stay the Maureen I had met and who had conquered me with her smile, her eyes, her heart and her soul.
She relaxed a bit, but clang to me with all her force. "Please don't leave me today! Stay with me at every moment, my love."
I kissed her again and said that staying close to her was not a penalty, but a gift. I lifted her up and carried her to the kitchen. "Sit here, my love, and I'll prepare our breakfast."
She was still a bit uneasy and when I went to the stove to heat up the toast and prepare the eggs, she was suddenly behind me, clinging to my body. "Forgive me, I need to feel you, to feel that you're real and that you're here with me!"
It was a difficult job to make breakfast: wherever I went, she was close to me and once I almost touched her with a hot pan, but at the end, breakfast was ready and we sat down, with her sitting on my lap.
"I don't want to eat anything -- I just want to stay close to you!"
She accepted, however, a bit of toast and some egg and toast with jam and suddenly, she realized that she was hungry. So I got up, made more toast and eggs and she started to smile.
"James, my love, I don't know what happened, but I'm back to be your Maureen, who loves you and trusts you completely. May I ask for another kiss, also?"
We kissed and then she asked what had happened yesterday. I replied that she should tell me; after all, she was gone the whole day and when she came back, she was unapproachable with all the glamour and glitter. At the restaurant, she spent most of the time discussing wines with Peter and the sommelier, and when we came back, she fell asleep. So could she please tell me what had happened?
She blushed and started to say something and stopped again. Then she swallowed and started her side of the story.
"When you told me about Peter's remark, I was very upset. Not so much about the little mouse, but that you deserved someone better. I wanted to show him that there is nobody better than I! I called Mom and she gave me some advice: the spa, the hairdresser, where to get a dress (she called somebody and they sent several dresses for me to choose), even a jeweler to add the opal earrings and the diamond bracelet (I've to give them back, by the way) and time just flew. Then the surprise in your eyes when you saw me, and I didn't know whether you liked it or not. There was no time to change and when we arrived at the restaurant and I saw Peter's face, for me all the effort was worthwhile. And when we started on the wines I was in heaven! I know a lot about wines since we always had good wines at home; Mom sent me to courses and Peter is very knowledgeable. Suddenly I had the chance to show what I knew, and I assume that I -- and we -- lost control.¨
She sniffled and went on.xxwwẍYour face changed slowly from interested to bored and when at the end, we had made the selections, you just stepped in and called us back to earth. You must have seen the face of the sommelier! He was so disgusted with you! All the discussions and then back to wines in glasses! The food was delicious, however, and I enjoyed the dinner and the company. When we came back to our flat, I realized how tired I was from all the events of the day. I really wanted to make love with you to give you the reward I had promised, but, suddenly, I was asleep. And when I woke up you were not there, and I had that horrible nightmare! I apologize for hitting you, but I was not myself - I was feeling suddenly so forlorn and abandoned. Your kiss, however, brought me back and I'm yours again -- and you are mine!"
She kissed me and whispered: "Do you want to make love now?"
So we went back to the bedroom and made gentle and caring love until she fell asleep again, but this time with a satisfied and happy smile.
Later we went to lunch in a small harbor restaurant and unfortunately, I had to drive her to the airport. We said goodbye and when she went through the boarding gate, she turned at the last moment and blew me a kiss.
Chapter 16: The Meeting with Father
Maureen called me at night and said that she had told her Mom everything. Eileen also wanted to talk to me and was grateful for the care I had shown her daughter.
"James, I 've been to that restaurant before and the prices there, especially for the wines, are pure robbery. Send me the bill and I can book it as a business expense. I was proud of you, however, when she told me how you took that sommelier down -- he is a very snobbish man and believes that he is better than his clients!"
I wondered how competent her tax people were; the bills she had declared business expense were a bit dubious, to say the least; but that was her problem. I told Eileen what I had said to the maître and she applauded.
"Right on, mate, as we Australians say!"
The next morning I had an early meeting and then Peter appeared in my office.
"James, I'd like to kill you, slowly and with great pleasure. Perhaps start with a small fire under your feet, then a Chinese Water Drop torture, and then squeeze your balls with tiny pins. A few wooden splinters under your nails? How could you do this to me? You should've warned me about Maureen! Little mouse, indeed! I never before felt so much like a gigantic fool in my life, and much as I liked her company, every time I looked at her, I saw the 'Squeak, squeak' in her eyes. She enjoyed it, I felt humiliated. At least you had to pay for the fun! According to the tip you made me pay it was not a tidy sum! Serves you right!"
I asked him whether he liked the discussions about wine matching and suddenly he smiled.
"That was great, and I'm still surprised by the knowledge that Maureen has, but again: why did you have to be so rational? You pulled the carpet under our feet when you asked who would drink all that. And did you see the face of the sommelier? He must hate you, too! All those wonderful, but terribly overpriced wines! Imagine his commission that went suddenly awry! But I've to admit that the wines he selected by the glass were good, too."
He calmed down and we talked ab
out business. He had started to be more pro-active, and some of his comments were quite valid and helpful.
On Tuesday I was contacted by the supervisor in the nursing home that cared for my father. His health had suddenly deteriorated and he wanted to know what he should do. I asked him how serious it was, and he said that the nursing home medical staff concluded that he had no more than a few days.
I went immediately to Frank and asked for a week off -- I needed to get to Germany immediately and see what had happened, and eventually take whatever steps necessary. He agreed but asked how the NT Project was going forward. I told him that Peter had been involved all the way and that I had talked to him already; he was ready to step in for the week I had to leave. The weekly meeting was in Sydney this time and perhaps he could participate.
I saw his eyes showing a lot of eager interest when he asked who would participate from NT. When I told him that the CEO, the Financial and the Marketing Director plus some analysts would be here on Friday, a smile started to appear, and he said that I could go and look after my father -- he would take care of the meeting.
I called Maureen about my father and that I had to go immediately to Germany. Without hesitating, she said that she would come with me. I asked about her studies and was told that she had three days off plus the weekend; there were tests, however, on Monday afternoon she could not miss. So if we could fly to Germany tonight and she could come back on Sunday, the trip was possible.
"James, didn't you tell me that you would always stay at my side whatever happened? This counts for me, too. I'm your other half and you don't have to endure this on your own. And I meant it when I said that I wanted your father's blessing for our marriage; this is important to me, and it should be important for you."
She had checked the connections already -- she would meet me at six thirty tonight at the airport and we would take the night flight to Frankfurt with a connection to München almost immediately after our arrival.
