A Choice of Wine

[Master of Pain.]

He saw David as soon as he entered the little wine-bar. He felt a momentary unease and then squared his shoulders, strode over to the counter and gave him a fair pat on the back. David’s features formed themselves into a passable look of guilt, and then he too shrugged off his discomfort and returned the greeting in kind.

“Lets have a drink,” Tommy said. “It’s been a fair while.”

“It has, it has,” replied David, and he signaled Massimo to pour them something.

“What shall we have?” He was happy with a red or a white, perhaps even something sparkling. Probably more a red than a white. It was a red day. The streets were cold and grim. December had truly settled in with its cloak of darkness and dank humidity. The wine-bar was warm and friendly, there were raised voices and calls for different orders. The wood paneling reflected dimly in the yellow light of the lunch hour. Yes, it was a day for red, perhaps one of the local drops, a Veneto.

“Lets drink a white,” said his friend, and Tommy smiled and motioned that that would be fine. Massimo set two oversized wine glasses on the bar – big, balloon shaped things into which it seemed you could empty an entire bottle. The wine, when poured into them, didn’t appear to be more than a mouthful. They tapped the glasses together, being careful to look one another in the eye. The glass made a clear ringing sound that carried through the small area. David selected a piece of bread with some salami and pickle layered over it.

“I was just stopping for a quick drink,” he explained with his mouth full. “Have to be home for lunch today, the woman demands it. I only …”

“It’s fine, no need to explain yourself. Besides, if you stopped here you probably knew there’d be a good chance of seeing me.”

“Are you down just for today?” the barman asked him.

“Errands in the city,” he replied with a nod of his head. “It’s colder in the mountains but I feel it more here for some reason.”

The general consensus was that the humidity caused this. They discussed that at some length, and they ordered another glass of the same white. He was beginning to think that David had been correct on the choice after all. A red would have made it all too gloomy. The white seemed to pick them up. He reached for some bread and cheese. He realized that he hadn’t eaten and he had been up since very early in the morning. The wine would quickly go to his head if he wasn’t careful.

A short man entered the bar to greetings from those around him. He was aware that he knew the man, most probably from this very bar. There were enthusiastic greetings. His name was Paolo, and he ordered another round of the white. Massimo set a third glass on the bar for him. They drank to the holiday season. The conversation was easy and relaxed. He didn’t think that David would be getting home to his girl soon. He looked like he was settling in for the long haul. Paolo ordered another drink, but he made a motion at the barman not to include him.

“I have to drive back in a little while,” Tommy explained to his two companions. “Not a good idea in this time.”

David agreed. “It’s a sad thing for civilization when a man can’t drink with his friends in the early afternoon. These stupid police should worry about other things.” It was indeed a sad state of affairs they decided. He cradled his third drink – this had to last him while he ate lunch. He took the moment to order a plate of pasta from Massimo. His bag was already set on the small round table behind them. They were laughing at some joke, they were all the best of companions.

More people entered the bar and they were forced to huddle into a defensive knot by the counter. Other customers tried to place orders over their heads. There was a man and two young girls seated behind them. They were arguing loudly. The man had a gleam of humor in his eye. The girls called him daddy.

David drained his glass and set it on the bar. “I have to go. The woman, you know how they are.”

Tommy smiled. “Yeah, I mean what is she thinking? You only have a new born son.”

They laughed. “He will be a rugby player,” David said with pride. “You should see him. He is already broad. I will put him in the front row.”

“You should do that.”

“I will.”

“What if he plays football?”

“I would prefer him to be gay.” David thought for a moment. “Which I suppose is the same thing.”

“Another round?” said Paolo.

“I really have to go.” David put on his coat and went to pay the bill.

“I have this one,” said Tommy, and blocked his hand with his own.

“The round of three was mine,” Paolo added.

“We can pay a round each,” David said. “It is fair.”

They agreed that it was. He paid, saluted those around him and opened the door to the street. The cold wind blew inside and the door swung shut with a small bang behind him. Tommy and Paolo remained at the bar.

“That David,” said Paolo. “He is such a character! Who would want their son not to play football?”

Tommy shrugged. “I prefer rugby myself.” He saw that the barman had his food ready and he moved to his little table and sat with his back to the wall. Bottles were stacked up above his head. Paolo watched as the barman placed his plate of food on the table.

“Bon appetite,” he said.

Tommy thanked him, opened a newspaper and began to eat his food. Paolo turned and began a conversation with the people around him.

 

The door opened and a young woman entered. One of the girls sitting with her father waved at her. She made her way to their table and sat down. Her leg almost brushed his own and Tommy instinctively moved a little to give her room. He half listened to their conversation as he ate and read the paper. The young woman was angry with the man. It appeared he was her father. He wondered what it would be like to have three daughters. Certainly a burden.

She pouted her lips and cried out; “That’s not fair! You never take me seriously!”

The rest of what she said was lost in the conversation in the bar. She seemed to be very upset. Her father said a few words. He seemed to be laughing at her. All of a sudden her attitude changed. She found herself laughing and then the four of them were engaged in happy conversation.

 

Tommy wondered what he had said to his daughter to bring her around so quickly. He was impressed at the mans handling of the situation. He must know his daughters very well to be so adept in that situation. Very well indeed.

He was carefully sipping his wine to make it last through the meal. The linguine was just right. It must have been made fresh that morning. He thought that he had drunk just a little too much, but he had to be going. He signaled Massimo for an espresso. The coffee did nothing to relieve the lightness that he felt in his head. But there was nothing for it. They were waiting for him, he would be late if he didn’t leave now. He stood up and moved between the group of men blocking the counter, handed over a note from his wallet. Massimo had to stretch in order to reach it.

“The round before and the meal,” he told Massimo. “And one of the bread pieces with the cheese.”

He collected his bag and coat from the table and turned to leave.

“Well goodbye then,” Paolo said as he walked towards the door.

Tommy turned with a little surprise. “Yes,” he said. “I’ll see you around.”

“The next time that you’re down.”

“Yes, the next time.”