Strawberry Wine (13 page)

“Alli, you know I love your company. I don’t expect sex from you. I seem to recall a certain conversation where you said you weren’t interested in a serious relationship?”

Alli started to blush. Grateful for the dimness of the room, she closed her eyes and slumped back down onto her back. “I saw you last night. Outside Jerry’s Bar with that girl.”

Jason hurried to explain. “Alli th-”

Alli cut him off. “-You don’t have to say anything. You’re right. I did say I didn’t want a serious relationship right now. But I was wrong. Seeing you with that girl made me realize that I was too late. I
am
serious about you, and I don’t want you to be with anyone else.”

Jason pulled her into his arms and held her against his chest. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Alli. I can see what that must have looked like, but it’s not what you think. That girl last night at the bar, she’s Doug’s girlfriend’s roommate. I just gave her a ride home - nothing more.” He gave her a reassuring squeeze. “As if I could want anyone else with you occupying the majority of my brain space.”

He could feel her smile against his chest. “and for the record?” He pulled her chin up to look into her face. “I want you. God knows I do. But I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way. I’m fine with waiting until you’re ready - however long that may be.”

Alli nodded and snuggled back into his chest. He was hers. That was all that mattered.

Jason stared at his reflection, trying to judge his appearance objectively. He wasn’t pleased with what he found. Two days growth of stubble coupled with blood shot eyes from having tossed and turned all night made him look disreputable to say the least. The effect was even more dramatic when he caught himself scowling. A habit he had picked up in the last six years. He never even realized when he was doing it. He supposed it added to the brooding artist persona he had adopted.

Jason pushed away from the vanity and prowled around his apartment looking for something to distract him from his maddening train of thought. Alli. Alli, here, in the city, in his studio. Alli grabbing his arm with her left hand. The light winking off the ring she wore on her ring-finger.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, alerting him to a text message. Laurel was downstairs wondering if he wanted to grab a coffee.

Coffee with a beautiful, intelligent woman won out over obsessive mental flagellation about ghosts of loves past. Jason grabbed his keys and headed down to meet Laurel.

They ended up at one of his favorite little cafés. He had frequented the place so much during his first year in the city that he had become friends with the owner; A nice, hard working man named Sam. It was Sam that had told Jason of a local garage that was soon to be coming on the market. It would make an ideal gallery for someone who wasn’t afraid of a little elbow grease.

“...and to thank him,” Jason told Laurel, “I painted him this mural.”

Laurel studied the mural. It was a delightful scene, but seemed an odd choice for a café wall. “Goats?” She asked with a quizzical smile.

Jason shrugged. “Goats are good company.” Laurel was looking at him as if waiting for him to say more. “Sam likes goats. He says they remind him of back home.” Jason sipped his coffee, having run out of reasonable justifications for painting livestock on a café wall in the garment district.

“And is your affinity for goats in general the reason you named your gallery The Black Goat Gallery?” Laurel’s eyes were sparkling with good natured mirth.

“No, it wasn’t a generalized thing. I named it for a specific goat.” Laurel’s eyebrows shot up in humored surprise. Jason kept a straight face with only a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Laurel wanted to feel those lips pressed against her. She was itching to run her fingers across his stubbled jaw and feel him scratch his cheeks against her inner thigh. She squirmed a bit in her seat.

“‘A specific goat’ would also be a good name for a business, don’t you think?” Jason smiled in agreement and took another sip from his mug. He seemed a bit preoccupied. “Well, it’s a great story. I must say I’m impressed with how quickly you have made your gallery such a prestigious mecca of art in the neighborhood.”

Jason was pleased to hear she thought so highly of his gallery space. “It was really a group effort. A mixture of chance, and the sweat equity of local artists eager for a creative space to call their own. It also helps to be affiliated with the Urban Youth Foundation for the Arts.”

“That’s right. Doug was mentioning something about that. He says you’re a supporter? How does that work?”

It only took Jason a second to realize she was dancing around the legal restrictions of his position. “I don’t actually teach or mentor any of the program kids. My support is more financial. A percentage of every piece sold at Black Goat goes to the foundation, and I host their summer exhibit. I also donate studio time and materials, but the program supplies their own staff to work hands on with the kids.”

Laurel was sorry she had brought it up. He seemed so business like and matter-of-fact all of a sudden. She wanted to lighten the mood. “That’s really wonderful, the way you give back. I’m sure the community appreciates it.” Jason graced her with a tight smile and a curt nod.

Laurel heaved a mental sigh of resignation. She had blown it. When Jason said something about needing to get back to attend to some business, she merrily acquiesced. Better to start fresh at their next meeting than to try to sway his mood now.

Gran was hosting a book club meeting, and Alli thought she might sit in for a while, having read the book they would be discussing. Jason was gone for the day, so she thought it might be nice to spend some quality time with Gran.

She was helping Gran prepare some snacks before the ladies arrived. Alli hummed to herself as she sliced cheese for the cracker platter.

“My, but you’re in a good mood, dear.” Gran acknowledged.

Alli just smiled back at her and kept humming.

“Alli, dear, would you fetch me some wine from the pantry? We should let it breathe a bit.”

“Sure Gran.”

Alli hummed her way into the pantry and surveyed her grandparents’ sparse collection of wine. One bottle in particular caught her eye. She recognized the label immediately. Picking it up she smiled at the bottle, remembering the day she had brought it home.

Alli set the bottle on the counter and fumbled through the utensil drawer for the wine opener. Careful not to rip the cork, Alli pulled it from the bottle with a dull pop. It smelled sweet.

Gran took note of the bottle Alli had selected. “Oh, no, dear. That’s much too sweet for cheese and crackers. Try the green bottle.”

Alli looked at her gran nonplussed. “Oh. Sorry.” She sniffed it again, curiosity getting the better of her. “Can I at least taste it, since it’s opened anyway?”

Gran’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “I don’t suppose a little glass of wine will do you any harm. Go ahead dear. Just not too much! I don’t want to have to explain to your grandfather why his granddaughter is stumbling around drunk.”

“Oh Gran, really. I wouldn’t get drunk off of strawberry wine.” Alli scoffed.

She poured a small amount into a wine goblet and swirled it around the way she had seen wine tasters do on t.v.. Gran watched her with humor dancing in her eyes.

Alli sniffed at the wine for a third time. She probably wouldn’t like it, she told herself. She had tasted sips of her mother’s wine before and had wrinkled her nose in distaste each time.

Alli tilted the goblet to her lips and daintily dipped the tip of her tongue into the wine. Hmm, not bad. Definitely sweeter than she had imagined it would be.

Garnering courage, she took a small sip, letting the wine sit on her tongue a moment before swallowing it. Wow. Yum.

“What do you think, dear?” Asked her Gran.

“It’s really good!” Alli answered, pouring herself a little more.

Gran chuckled knowingly. “Yes, Mary Taylor makes a very good strawberry wine.”

“Mary Taylor?” Alli tried to sound nonchalant.

“Yes, dear. Mrs. Taylor is the wine enthusiast over there.”

“Oh,” Alli said breezily, taking another sip of wine. “When I went to pick this one up it seemed more like a family affair.”

“Did it now?” Gran raised her brows in interest. “You must mean young Jason. He’s been known to share his mother’s passions here and there. Like two peas in a pod, those two.”

“Hmm.” Alli said into her goblet, feigning disinterest.

Gran just chuckled softly to herself, remembering what it was like to be young and carefree, when the taste of strawberry wine was new and exciting.

“Just don’t over-do it sweetheart.” Gran chided. “Too much too soon can be overwhelming for a girl.”

Gran tottered off to set out the snack tray, leaving Alli to wonder if she had been talking about the wine, or something else.

* * * * *

Alli parked around the block from the Planned Parenthood building, not wanting anyone to recognize her car and guess her whereabouts. She was fifteen minutes early. Rather than spend those fifteen minutes sitting in the Planned Parenthood lobby dying of mortification, she decided to wait in her car until the last minute.

As her appointment time approached, she glanced nonchalantly around the street to make sure nobody she knew was randomly wandering by - you never knew with her luck - before ducking into the building and following the signs to the correct office.

The receptionist gave her some forms to fill out, and she was called back just as she was finishing the last of her medical history.

Alli hadn’t known what to expect, and her nerves were tightly strung, but the appointment turned out to be pretty much the same as her yearly exams by her regular doctor.

Once the doctor had performed the pelvic exam on Alli, she told Alli to meet her in her office, and left so Alli could get dressed.

Dr. Oslo’s office was a nondescript room housing a massive desk reminiscent of those Alli had seen in old cop dramas from the seventies. The wall behind the behemoth desk held two small framed documents. The other three walls were covered in posters depicting everything from horrific sexually transmitted infections to fetal development. Alli found the posters to be unsettling, so she turned her attention to the oddities spread across the vast desktop.

There were stacks of folders, three jars of pencils, a few small framed pictures of people who Alli assumed to be Dr. Oslo’s family, and a big basket of condoms. The
pièce de résistance
, however, had to be the large plastic uterus with it’s numbered parts and pieces. Alli noted that at some point in time the right ovary had fallen victim to a teething puppy. The puppy from the family photos perhaps?

Dr. Oslo breezed in and dropped herself into the office chair behind her desk. She was a no nonsense kind of woman with friendly eyes and a ready smile.

“So, Allison, you’re interested in birth control pills.”

Alli nodded, trying her best to look mature and responsible.

“Are you currently using any other forms of birth control?”

Alli’s mouth was dry. “Uh, no, I haven’t actually had sex yet...”

Dr. Oslo nodded at this information. “So you’re planning ahead. That’s good. Responsible.”

Dr. Oslo pulled out her prescription pad and started to scribble on it. “I’m going to go ahead and write you a prescription for a monophasic birth control pill.” She stopped writing and looked up at Alli. “Now, I have to remind you that birth control pills do not protect against sexually transmitted infections like the herpes virus and HIV.”

Alli nodded her understanding, and Dr. Oslo went back to scribbling on her pad.

“They take a week to be effective, and certain antibiotics render them less effective, so be sure to use a back up form of birth control if you are prescribed such medication.” Dr. Oslo looked soberly at Alli. “Always check with your doctor.” Alli nodded again, and Dr. Oslo’s smile returned.

“Great!” She pulled out a small brown paper lunch bag and put the prescription inside. Then she grabbed a handful of condoms from the basket and threw them in on top. Finally, she added a few pamphlets and folded the top of the bag over, handing it to Alli. “That should do it.”