The Truth is in the Wine

by Curtis Bunn

  “What?”

  “When I won, we were in hell. I was in hell,” he explained. “I had said I wanted a divorce. I didn’t mean it but I said it because you deserved better than what I was at that time. That’s what I thought then in the state of mind I was in. So now here comes this miracle and it’s like, ‘I have a chance to fix all this.’ But I needed to know that you would come back to me because of me and not because of money.”

  He braced himself for Ginger to snap. He knew it was insulting to her to think she would be motivated by money in a matter of the heart. And subconsciously it is a reason he did not tell her sooner. He was afraid of what she might think of him. But the longer he waited, the deeper his fear became.

  “So, you think I’m a gold digger?” she asked calmly. She took a sip of the sparkling water. “You think I would stay with you because of money? That’s what you think of me.”

  “What I thought was I love you and I want you to love me,” Paul answered. “That’s it. I didn’t want any outside influences playing a role. So, I said, ‘Let’s go on a trip and see if we can find the magic.’ But I knew we would because I was a different person from the last eleven months. I was out of my funk and, even though we had fallen into a rut, at the core of everything was that we had a true love for each other—and for family.”

  “Still, you put me through a test,” Ginger said. She wasn’t mad; almost nothing could make her mad at that point. There was too much to be joyous about in her life.

  “I don’t think it was the right thing to do, looking back on it,” Paul said. “So I’m sorry. But for a man, it’s important to know that his woman loves him for who he is, not money. I needed to know that for my psyche.”

  “The fact that I even agreed to go should have told you where my heart was,” she said.

  “That’s true,” Paul responded. “And the fact that I bought that ring should tell you what I believed would happen.”

  They smiled at each other.

  “Don’t be mad, Gin. Please,” Paul said. “We have too much to be thankful for, too much to look forward to. Plus, being mad ain’t good for the baby.”

  Ginger smiled a big smile then, just as the food arrived. Her grilled rainbow trout with Yukon golds, bacon, Gravenstein apples and grain mustard was delicious. And Paul devoured his seafood stew.

  She let go of her concern and wanted to scream again, but suppressed it. “What are we going to do with all this money?” she asked.

  “Save it, a lot of it, for Helena and our new baby,” he said. “Donate some of it. Get a reputable financial adviser. Don’t you think?”

  “No doubt about it,” Ginger said. “There are so many people we can help—women who have been in abusive relationships, cancer research, homeless shelters, foster kids, disadvantaged youths. I am so glad you said that.

  “See, this is the Paul I fell in love with. You could have answered that question by saying what you were going to buy for yourself and where we would travel and so on. But your first thoughts were to provide for our children and to help other people. Those are the qualities I fell in love with a long time ago.”

  “Thank you, Ginger,” he said. “And you’re the same way, which makes us a good match. I can look back on it now and be honest: A man tying his success or who he is to a job is too much. I put my whole stock in a job, in what I did for work. I’m not saying it’s not important. I know it is. But to lose my job—and lose it the unjust way I did—messed me up. And it almost messed up my life.

  “Big Al was helping me come around, telling me to ‘man up’ and do what I needed to be a good husband. Crazy as he can be, he knew how much you meant to me.”

  “Wait until you tell him you won the lottery; he’s going to go off,” Ginger said.

  “Well, actually, he already knows,” Paul revealed.

  “What? You told Al, but you didn’t tell me?” Ginger said, disgusted.

  “I wasn’t trying to stay married to Big Al,” he said. “And I had to tell somebody. My head would have exploded if I hadn’t.”

  “You didn’t tell your mother? Does she know, Paul?” Ginger asked.

  “No. But I did tell my father,” he said.

  Ginger shook her head. “So we have a third important thing to tell Helena,” she said.

  “Yes,” Paul said. “Maybe we should tell her about the money first. That’ll keep her little butt under control.”

  They laughed. The more they ate, the farther away they got from Paul not telling Ginger about the money. They were a couple in love, pulled together by love, not money.

  CHAPTER 22

  NEW FRIENDS, OLD FRIENDS

  Paul called his mom after their meal to see where they were. He still wanted to meet Mitchell and Lionel—and he wanted to tell her about the lottery.

  She answered on the first ring. “What are y’all doing?” she said into the phone. “OK. We’re here.”

  “That was my son, Paul,” she said to Mitchell. “He and his wife will be here in about ten, fifteen minutes.”

  Brenda and Mitchell caught up on each other’s lives and essentially fell in love all over again.

  When Madeline and Lionel left them alone at the table, they reverted to their youth almost instantly.

  “You broke my heart,” Mitchell said. “I’m not ashamed to say it.”

  “It’s a little late, but please let me fix it,” Brenda said. “I can honestly say that I never forgot you. I never forgot how I felt about you. I never forgot how you felt about me, offering to marry me although I was carrying another man’s child.”

  “I look back on that time of my life as something that was special, but it also scarred me,” Mitchell said. “It scarred me in the sense that I spent the rest of my relationship life trying to feel like I did with you, about you, and I couldn’t. I actually had two marriages. I hardly even count the first one because it was less than a year after I last saw you. Classic rebound. And it only lasted fourteen months.”

  “I married Paul’s father when he was two, almost three, and stayed married to him until about a year ago,” Ginger said. “Nice man… But he wasn’t…you.”

  They were working on their second bottle of Pinot Noir.

  “What are we going to do, Mitchell?” Brenda asked. “You live in California. I live in Atlanta. But I really don’t want to let you walk away from me again. This wine has made me super aggressive, but it’s the truth.”

  “And the truth is, I don’t want to walk away from you,’ Mitchell said. “Twice in one lifetime? No. That can’t happen. I’m not such a spiritual person, but I believe this was fate. It had to be.”

  “It had to be,” Brenda agreed. “When we met at the front, I said to myself that you looked familiar. But it was more than that. I felt something…I never envisioned you at sixty-three years old. But then, I never envisioned seeing you ever again, either.”

  “I will come to Atlanta as often as I can and I would love for you to come to San Diego,” Mitchell said. “It’s beautiful. Laid-back. The perfect weather.”

  “Can’t wait to experience it,” she said.

  “So, what do we do about Madeline and Lionel?” Mitchell said.

  “Forty-something years ago, I was concerned about other people’s feelings and thoughts about me,” Brenda said. “I’m too old and too smart to worry about them now. I don’t mean to sound cold, but it’s the truth.”

  “I don’t think they are that concerned,” Mitchell said. “I met with Madeline two times. Nothing was happening there. She’s a nice woman. But you…I have held you in my heart all my life.”

  Brenda looked up and Paul and Ginger were approaching. “Oh, here’s Paul, my son. They got here fast.”

  Paul hugged his mom and turned to Mitchell. “So, you must be Lionel. Nice to meet you,” he said, extending his hand.

  “Actually, I’m Mitch,” he said. “Nice to meet you. Lionel is over there at the bar with Madeline.”

  “Huh?” Ginger said, puzzled. “Madeline
is my mother.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Mitch said.

  “Nice to meet you, too. But I thought my mom met you at church in Atlanta.”

  “She did,” he said. “It’s a long story.”

  “Actually, it’s a short story,” Brenda said. “Remember when I told you about the love of my life when I was twenty years old? The man I really wanted to be with but I was pregnant by your father?”

  “Yeah,” Paul and Ginger said.

  “Well, incredibly, this is the man. Madeline met Mitchell in Atlanta,” she said. “And when we saw each other, it all came together.”

  “What?” Paul said.

  “How’s my mom?” Ginger asked.

  “I need a glass of wine,” Paul said. “What’s this? Pinot?”

  “How could you tell that by looking at it?” Mitchell asked.

  “I just know,” Paul said. “The color. The density. But wait. Ma.”

  “I know, Paul, it’s crazy,” Brenda said. “It’s a miracle.”

  Ginger bolted over to her mother and Lionel. “I guess you heard?” Madeline said. “Small world. God is working on this family.

  “This is my daughter, Ginger. This is Lionel.”

  “How did this happen?” Ginger asked. “I want to know all the details because this is something else.”

  Madeline and Lionel shared the details as they saw it.

  “Looking back, I did notice that they were making a lot of eye contact,” Madeline said. “But I didn’t think anything of it. I thought they were just being good communicators, looking those in the eye you’re speaking to.”

  “I noticed that, but I also noticed that Mitch was a little more quiet than normal. Somewhere at the table he figured it out and when he did, his mind was churning on how to say something instead of talking to us,” Lionel said.

  “But guess what, honey?” Madeline said. “It has worked out great. Lionel and I have a lot in common. And we’re going to keep in touch.”

  “That’s nice,” Ginger said.

  It was so surprising that Paul and Ginger forgot to share the news of the lottery money—until Paul told Brenda at the table. She had told Paul that she would have to save money to travel back and forth to California to see Mitchell. That’s when it registered to Paul that he had not shared the news.

  When he did, she screamed. That’s how Ginger, standing at the bar, knew Paul had told her.

  “Wow,” Madeline said. “Did you hear that scream? What was that about?”

  “Well, mother, it was probably because Paul told her that he hit the lottery for eight million dollars,” Ginger said.

  And then Madeline screamed—and Paul knew his wife had told her mother.

  The three of them left the bar and went over to the table. Hugs were shared. Lionel said to Paul: “I guess I’m meeting you at the right time,” and they laughed.

  Paul called over the server and they ordered another bottle of Pinot—and a glass of sparkling apple cider.

  Lionel pulled up two more chairs and the six of them talked and laughed and marveled at the stunning developments until long after the last diner left.

  When the bill came, Paul picked it up.

  “This one is on me,” he said.

  No one argued with him.

  CHAPTER 23

  MUDDY WATERS

  They had an evening flight back to Atlanta the next day, and Paul had one more surprise for Ginger.

  “A mud bath?” she asked.

  “Yes. We cannot come all the way out here and not experience a mud bath. Calistoga is the mud bath capital,” he explained. “We have a noon appointment. It’s like a spa treatment. But there are these crazy minerals in the water and the mud that reinvigorates your body. And my back hasn’t been right since that long flight.

  “And you said you feel a little achy, too, right?”

  “I do, but you sure about this?” she said.

  “I already told our moms what we were doing. They’re having lunch with Lionel and Mitchell,” he said. “When we get back, we can head straight to the airport.”

  And so they took the drive to Golden Haven Hot Springs spa in Calistoga. Along the way, Paul talked to Big Al and Ginger called Serena, who were ecstatic about all the developments.

  Paul called Helena right before they got to the destination. “Been an amazing trip, honey,” he said.

  “So you and mom are doing better?” Helena asked.

  “Better?” Paul said. “Who said we weren’t doing well?”

  “Daddy, I’m not a kid,” she said. “I lived in the house with you. You hardly talked to each other.”

  He was surprised. He thought she was so caught up in her own life that she did not notice theirs.

  Paul repeated what Helena said so Ginger could hear it. “You noticed we weren’t talking to each other?”

  Ginger told her girlfriend, “I’ll call you back.”

  Paul then put Helena on the speakerphone. “Honey, Mom can hear you. I have you on speaker.”

  “Hi, Mom. Dad still thinks I’m a kid. He didn’t know I knew you and he were having issues.”

  “Well, to be truthful, I didn’t know you knew, either.”

  “You don’t remember what I said to you right before you left me in my room at college? I said, ‘Mommy, take care of Daddy. He loves you.’ That was my way of saying I understood what was going on. You didn’t get it?”

  “I didn’t but you’re even smarter than we thought,” Ginger said.

  They pulled up to the spa, which looked like a motel. “Helena, we’re about to take a mud bath before we head back to Atlanta. But we’re going to call you later. There’s a lot we have to talk about.”

  “A mud bath?” she said. “You old people… Anyway, okay. Call me. Have fun. Love you!”

  They checked in at the desk and were taken to the room for their couples’ mud bath. Immediately, the smell of the mud was jarring. “Stinks in here,” Ginger said under her breath.

  The young man gave them instructions on how to enter the tub that was virtually spilling over in hot mud. There was a hot tub to the right that did not look inviting. And there were showers to the left.

  “OK, enjoy,” the man said. “I will check on you later.”

  Paul and Ginger got undressed and approached their side-by-side tubs of mud. Paul was eager to get in. His back bothered him and his neck was a little stiff, too, from sleeping awkwardly and lying on that thin jail mattress. He went in butt-first, as instructed, and was almost immediately soothed by the mud and the heat.

  “Oh, baby, it feels weird the more you submerge yourself, but it’s hot and it’s like you’re floating,” he said.

  Ginger took her time but finally eased her way into the tub. Her facial expression didn’t convey that she was happy. But as she got more comfortable, she relaxed.

  “It’s hot,” she said. “And sand is in the crack of my butt.”

  They laughed and in a minute or so she was in and covered and totally relaxed. The guy came in to check on them, put a smoother version of the mud on their faces and a cold towel across their foreheads.

  “You should stay in about twenty-five minutes and then you can shower and get in the hot tub or get a warm body wrap,” he said. “Enjoy.”

  They settled into the mud and found a comfort zone. Paul was so relaxed that he almost fell asleep. Ginger was not as comfortable, but she enjoyed the experience.

  They talked for a short time, but then drifted into a totally relaxed place. Paul actually fell asleep for a few minutes. Ginger lay in it, but her mind was so filled with emotions and thoughts that she could not doze off. Plus, the heat bothered her.

  She did feel better about it when she got out and the aches in her lower back she felt were gone. Just like that. Paul said, “I feel like playing basketball. I cannot believe how fresh I feel. Amazing.”

  They showered and took their time cleaning themselves off—they passed on the hot tub and warm body wrap—before heading back to N
apa to pick up the luggage and their parents.

  “That probably was a little messy and stinky to you, Gin,” Paul said on the drive back. “But I’m glad we went for two reasons: One, I wanted us to experience something together neither of us had. That’s one way to keep things fresh in a marriage. Do different stuff.”

  “I like that way of thinking,” she said. “What’s the other reason?

  “I didn’t know it at the time I planned it, but that mud was symbolic of what our marriage had been like,” he said. “We were stuck in the mud. Just lying there, floating. If we didn’t do something, we were going to sink deeper and deeper until we drowned.

  “But on this trip, we pulled ourselves out of the mud. And just like our bodies feel now, coming out of that mud bath, our relationship has been reinvigorated.”

  Madeline reached over and held Paul’s hand. They listened to music and enjoyed the beautiful countryside the rest of the ride back to the hotel, where their parents were in the lobby.

  Mitchell and Lionel had said their goodbyes. The ladies were ready to head home. Paul loaded up the car and they were on their way. They decided they would eat at the airport.

  “The mud bath was great,” Ginger said. “I feel totally refreshed.”

  “Really? I probably could have used one after all that wine last night. My goodness,” Brenda said.

  “Brenda, I am so happy for you—Mitch, I mean, Mitchell, is a nice man,” Madeline said.

  “Thank you. He is,” Brenda said. “And it seemed like Lionel was really into you.”

  “I like him. We got along great. Who would have guessed this?” Madeline said. “But I’m trying to figure out why we aren’t in a limousine, Mr. Millionaire.”

  Paul laughed. “Next time,” he said.

  His phone rang. It was Helena. “Hi, honey. I’m gonna put you on speaker so you can say hi to your grandparents, too.”

  Everyone greeted her.

  “So, Dad, what is it you want to talk to me about?” Helena asked.

  “Well, there are three things, but the one I want to speak with you about first is very sensitive and we should talk about it in person,” he said. He looked around the car and the ladies nodded their heads in agreement.