“We deserve a good, brawny, ethnic meal like that every so often, instead of always worrying about our diets.” Norman took in a long deep breath through his nostrils and breathed it out in a loud, satisfied ahhhh.
Once they reached the parking lot, he was about to unlock his car as he turned back to Maisy with a thoughtful expression. “You know, I feel like walking for a while, how about you?”
“At this point,” Maisy groaned, “I think that’s my only alternative. If I tried to sit down in that car now, I’d probably get wedged in the seat. Plus, I think I need to walk off the effects of all that beer. My head feels a bit woozy.”
“Remember one of your first lessons, Maisy? Cosmopolitan people avoid getting soused at all costs.”
“Norman, I am not soused.” Her vexed expression morphed into a grin. “Maybe just a little bombed. And it’s only the second time in all my life.” The first time turned out to be a downright disaster but she certainly didn’t want to think about that fiasco with Keller Fitch now. Taking in a deep, cleansing breath, she looped her arm through Norman’s. “Enough lecturing. Let’s get walking.”
After visiting a few shops, Norman turned a corner, heading away from the main street.
“Maybe we should head back,” Maisy suggested. “I’m starting to get chilly again.”
“Uh…I thought we’d take the long way back to the car,” Norman said. “Remember, we want to stay fit.” He briskly jogged in place. “If we’re going to eat big we’ve got to pay the price, right?” Maisy nodded. Already out of breath, he ceased his jogging.
“You’re right, Norman. Let’s go.”
“Looks like there are more shops just down the street,” he noted. After walking half a block, Norman stopped in front of a restored Victorian mansion. Standing arms akimbo, he looked up at it, beaming a wide grin. “Well, I’ll be darned. Look what we have here, Maisy.”
Turning absently to the beautiful structure, Maisy read the sign. Her jaw dropped. “Keller’s Cellars!” She nailed her boss with an accusatory glare. “Norman Stanley, you planned this whole thing.”
Feigning wide-eyed innocence, Norman clapped his hand to his chest, gasping in disbelief. “Me? Why, Maisy, this is sheer coincidence. A random twist of fate. A fluke. You know I would never do something like that. I swear I wouldn’t.”
“Yeah right.” She narrowed her eyes.
“You hurt me, Maisy.” Norman stabbed an imaginary knife into his heart. “You really hurt me, you know that?” He gave her his best hangdog expression and turned away.
“I’d sure as hell like to.” Balancing her weight on one hip, Maisy bobbed her head rapidly. “Don’t give me that poor me song and dance of yours, Norman. I don’t buy it for a minute. Remember, I know you better. I’m going back to the car.” Maisy swirled around and Norman grabbed hold of her coat sleeve.
“Aren’t you even a little bit curious?” He held his thumb and forefinger together.
“Norman, I am not going in there. Do you hear me?” She yanked her sleeve from his grasp. “No way, no how. No, nein, nix. Got it?” She started walking.
Norman grabbed her sleeve again, yanking her back. “But he’s not even in there, Maisy. Keller’s away on a business trip.”
Maisy slowly crossed her arms over her chest. “And just how would you happen to know anything about Keller’s whereabouts, hmm?” She peered at him through narrowed slits. “Seeing as how you swore to me you didn’t purposely plan this accidental stop at Keller’s winery.”
Shrugging, Norman smiled sheepishly. “Okay, so shoot me.”
“Don’t be so cavalier, buster. If I had a gun, you can bet I’d be using it right now.” Maisy punctuated her sentence by jabbing a finger in Norman’s gut and pulling the imaginary trigger.
“Ow.” Wincing, he fell into his nervous staccato laughter. “So I made a little call to see if Keller would be here today, that’s all. What’s wrong with that?”
“Gee, what say we go for a little walk after lunch?” Maisy said, mimicking Norman’s voice.
Norman pouted and Maisy mumbled an expletive under her breath.
“Uh-uh-uh, Maisy, cosmopolitan people never resort to that base sort of language,” he tsked.
Maisy slapped the palm of her hand against her forehead. “You’re standing there making droll remarks while I’m struggling to keep from committing homicide… What the hell’s the matter with you, Norman?”
“I can’t help it.” Looking like a little lost puppy, he added, “I’m pixilated.”
Caught off guard by Norman’s ridiculous remark, a smile teased at Maisy’s lips. Determined not to let him get off so easily, she spun on her heel and started to walk away again, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Damn him, he always knew how to make her laugh. Well, this was one argument he wouldn’t win.
Close on Maisy’s heels, Norman pleaded, “Aw, come on, Maisy, I know you’re anxious to see the winery. This is the perfect time. You can’t tell me you’re not dying to get a glimpse.”
She hesitated for an instant and Norman went in for the kill. Draping his arm around her shoulder and resting his forehead on hers, he spoke in a soft, soothing voice. “What can one little peek hurt, huh, Maisy? We’ll just zip around real fast. And then we’ll leave. Just tip-toe right out.” He did a finger-walk through the air. “Trust me, Keller will never even know you were here.”
Maisy nibbled her bottom lip. “You’re absolutely positive he’s out of town? I mean, that wasn’t another one of your elasticizing the truth things, was it? Because if we go in there and I find out you were lying, Norman…”
Flinching at Maisy’s ominous expression, Norman solemnly crossed his heart. “This time, I promise. I’m telling the truth. I swear, Maisy. On my Grandma Gert’s life.”
Shifting her weight to one hip, Maisy heaved a tuneful sigh. “Your Grandma Gert’s been dead for years, Norman.”
Gushing nervous, staccato laughter, Norman said, “Of course she has. I just forgot for a minute, that’s all. What I meant to say was, I swear on my Grandma Gert’s grave.” He crossed his heart again, clearly doing his best to look like a choirboy.
Speaking in low, conspiratorial tones, he leaned close. “Just before we left the office, I called and talked to a woman who said Keller was out of town until tomorrow.” Raising his eyebrows, he nodded, as if that sealed the deal.
Maisy threw her hands into the air. “Lord knows why I should believe you…but I do.” She clenched Norman’s sleeve and yanked him close. “Just five minutes, though, that’s all. Deal?”
“Deal.” Norman beamed a satisfied look, expelling the breath he’d been holding while Maisy made up her mind.
Entering the retail area of Keller’s Cellars was like taking a step back in time. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Norman knew he’d made the right decision in bringing Maisy here. She and Keller were meant to be together. No doubt about it. And he’d made it his personal mission to see that it happened.
It was his sacred duty. After all, that’s what best friends and mentors were for.
He and Maisy whispered to each other, awed by the finite detail that had gone into the renovation and décor of the shop. In the vestibule was a little marble-topped table that held a large thermal carafe of warm, spiced red wine and small, disposable tasting cups. Norman poured a sample for each of them. After sipping, they marveled at how flavorful and delicious the spiced brew was.
To the left was a large shop area with gift packages and baskets of all shapes and sizes, along with plenty of paraphernalia for the wine lover. Shelves were stocked with locally made flavored oils, mustards, preserves and a select assortment of gourmet edibles.
The large room to the right was set up as a tasting room. The mahogany-paneled walls were lined with racks of wine, available for purchase. Rich, dark wood was everywhere, from the lustrous floors and baseboards, to the crown molding and ornate ceiling trim. The entryway to each room boasted an ornately scrolled and carve
d mahogany arch. Everything about Keller’s Cellars exuded class, style and good taste.
“My God, Norman, I had no idea it would be so beautiful. This place is just exquisite.”
“Didn’t I tell you the man has good taste? It’s like I told you before, Maisy, Keller is definitely the man for you. I feel it in my—”
“Stop right there,” Maisy warned. “Do not start in on me again with that nonsense.” She grabbed Norman’s sleeve, digging in deep enough to pinch a fold of skin and give it a good twist.
“Jesus, Maisy.” Norman rubbed his arm. “A couple of German beers and you turn into a Nazi. Come on, let’s taste some wines. Look, it’s only three dollars to sample six of their wines. What a deal!”
Maisy tugged at the back of Norman’s coat before he could walk into the tasting room. “First of all,” she whispered, “our deal was only five minutes. We’ve already been here longer than that. Second, how do you expect me to drink six wine samples after I had all that beer and not fall flat on my face? For chrissakes, Norman, are you purposely trying to get me drunk?”
“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.” While Norman certainly didn’t want to get her drunk, he figured getting Maisy mildly mellow on the beer and wine might work to his advantage. If he could just get her relaxed, loosened up and pliable enough, he’d have a far better chance to talk to her about her future with Keller. The girl obviously needed his informed guidance in that area because, Lord knows, she’d certainly made a mess of things on her own.
Norman gestured around them. “Look, Maisy, it’s their dead time. There’s not a soul here to see you. Only the saleswoman behind the counter. Keller’s gone anyway, so why don’t you just relax and sample a few of the wines. Just take a sip or two of each. It won’t take us long at all. After all, we’ve driven all this way and…”
“Oh all right already, you can stop all your coaxing and cajoling.” Maisy chuckled. “I guess there’s no harm in having a quick, teensy taste.”
“Good!” The back slap Norman gave Maisy was so exuberant, it nearly sent her flying across the tasting room. It would be perfect. She’d have a little wine, look longingly at her surroundings, sigh a bit and start pining for Keller. Then, on the drive home, as he had her captive in the car, Norman would convince her, once and for all, that the two lovebirds were destined to be together, Sharon or no Sharon. Piece of cake.
“Good afternoon, folks, I’m Agatha. Is there anything I can help you with?” The sixty-ish, salt-and-pepper-haired woman sported a friendly, welcoming smile.
“Yes.” Norman gave an enthusiastic nod. “We’d like to sample some wines.”
“Does it take long?” Maisy asked nervously.
“Well, that’s up to you.” Agatha chuckled. “It’s three dollars for six samples of wine and you can take as much or as little time as you like. We have a selection of traditional, earthy reds, including cabernets, merlots and pinot noirs, or a sampler of our sweeter wines.”
“The sweet ones,” Maisy said without hesitation. “I’d like to do this as quickly as possible, please. I have to get back to work soon.”
Agatha nodded. “Of course.”
“No you don’t,” Norman said. He oophed as Maisy elbowed him in the gut.
“Pay the lady, Norman.”
He fished the bills from his wallet and passed them to Agatha.
“These are the selections we’re offering today,” she said, pouring samples of deep, dark wine for Maisy and Norman. “This first is our marionberry wine, made from Oregon berries. It’s a silver-medal winner. The flavor is similar to blackberries and not as tart as raspberries. If you take in a deep sniff, you can smell the lush ripe fruit. Wonderful, isn’t it?”
“Oh, this is good,” Maisy and Norman chorused.
Agatha poured the other five samples, setting them on the counter in front of them.
Pointing as she spoke, Agatha explained, “This is strawberry. Door County cherry. Our award-winning apple-pear. Our Winterfest Riesling. And finally, there’s apricot, a gold-medal winner. If you look at the paper placemat under the samples, each wine is described in detail.”
She placed a basket of crackers and a platter of cheese cubes in front of them. “These will help to cleanse the palate between tastes. Just help yourselves and enjoy. If there’s anything you need, or if you have any questions, I’ll just be in the next room.” With that, Agatha scooted around the corner.
“Boy that lady certainly gave us our six bucks worth,” Norman said. “Look at the size of these samples.” Tasting the pale golden Riesling, he murmured his satisfaction. “Ah, this you have to taste. I know that boy has got to have some German in him somewhere to make a Riesling this good.”
“Mmmm, it’s delicious,” Maisy agreed, pouring the entire sample down her throat in two gulps. “They’re all really delicious, especially the apricot, that’s my favorite. Come on, Norman, drink faster. We’ve been here long enough.”
“Whoa, slow down, Maisy.” Norman savored a cube of Muenster cheese. Fine wine, good cheese, atmospheric surroundings…he was in no hurry to leave. “That’s not how you’re supposed to drink wine. You’re supposed to savor it. Sip it slowly. If you guzzle, it’ll hit you hard, just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Especially on top of all that beer you just had.” He wagged a finger at Maisy.
“Nag, nag, nag. What are you, my father or my boss?” Maisy laughed. “Besides, most of it was just fruit wine, Norman. It’s not strong at all. I can hardly even taste any alcohol in it.” She gulped back another sample.
“Oh, listen to Miss Urbane here. Of course it doesn’t taste strong, it’s not supposed to, you ninny. That’s why it can creep up on you so fast.” Norman licked his lips after sipping the Door County cherry sample. Noticing that Maisy was getting mellower with each sip, he indulged in a rascally smile. It was time. Time to sneak the topic of Keller Fitch into the conversation.
“Obviously, Keller is an even more amazing man than I gave him credit for,” Norman said. “He’s a master at his craft. You know, you could do much worse than Kell—”
“Okay, that does it. We’re outta here.” Ignoring Norman’s warning, Maisy quickly downed the last of her samples. “Come on, let’s go.” She grasped Norman’s arm and yanked.
Damn. He’d obviously moved too fast. He had to take things slower, wait until she was more calm and relaxed before he broached the subject again.
“Hey, I still have three samples left,” he told her. “I’m not going anywhere until all of my wine is finished.”
“Ooh Norman Stanley, you are so exasperating. I knew you’d do something like this once you got me in here.” Maisy’s incensed glare made him flinch. “What’s next on your agenda, finding something to keep me here overnight?”
Pushing him aside, Maisy methodically wolfed down the rest of Norman’s samples as he watched, aghast.
“There. All of your wine is finished. Now we can go, because you’re clean out of excuses.” Turning on her heel, with Norman in tow, Maisy marched toward the door, stopping a few feet from it.
“Ooooh…gee…” She placed her hand to her head and teetered. “I feel kind of funny. Norman, did it get really hot in here all of a sudden or is it just me?”
Norman indulged in an exasperated sigh. He didn’t want her this relaxed. “It’s you, you little idiot. I tried to tell you this would happen. But would you listen? No.” He clutched Maisy’s arm to help steady her, hoping that once he got her outside in the cold air she’d sober up fast.
Agatha turned the corner and smiled. “Come again soon.” One glance at Maisy had her eyebrows knitting. “Oh dear, the young lady doesn’t look well at all. Are you all right, dear?” Crossing the room, she took Maisy by the elbow.
“I…I…” Maisy continued to waver, clearly trying to get her wits about her. “I’m not sure.” Her words were followed by a meager giggle as one knee buckled beneath her. “I think I had just a smidgen too much fruit.”
Norman and Ag
atha supported Maisy to keep her from falling.
“She’s all right,” Norman said. “She just drank too much wine too fast. If it’s all right with you, I think she just needs to rest here for a little while.”
“Certainly.” Agatha motioned toward the nearby staircase. “She’s less likely to fall if we prop her there than if we put her in a chair.”
“Good idea, thanks,” Norman said. “Maisy, honey, I’m afraid you’re inebriated. Come on, you need to sit down for a few minutes.” He and Agatha guided Maisy to the stairs leading to the second floor, perching her on a step where she could lean against the wall.
“Is that better, dear?” Agatha asked.
Maisy answered by slapping her hand against the stair she sat on. “Booful stairs. Jus booful.” She belted out a string of giggles.
“Uh-oh.” Agatha winked at Norman. “She’s a giggler.”
“Is she ever.” Norman rolled his eyes. “She’s not an experienced drinker. Goes right to her head. She figured because it was fruit wine it didn’t have much alcohol and she drank it too fast.”
“I understand. It happens frequently.” Agatha smiled, shaking her head sympathetically. “I’ll get a fresh, hot pot of coffee brewing. I’ll be back with some in a few minutes.”
“Oh you’re a doll,” Norman said. “Thanks.” Turning to Maisy, he looked at her wilted posture and tsked. “You’re not going to be sick, are you, Maisy?” She just shrugged and offered a giggle in response.
Norman gently smoothed the blonde strands from her eyes. The poor kid had come so far from when he first met her. Tethered to that chauvinistic lout, Maisy was sweet, kind, accommodating and a real people-pleaser.
She was also a fashion disaster and meek and mousy as hell. But Norman saw there was more beyond the tense, timid, insecure woman who’d decided to become a travel agent. Once he’d glimpsed the bright spirit inside, struggling to break free, he’d made it his personal mission to help Maisy Morganfield blossom—to reach her full potential.
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