But There Is No Merlot

“Hey,” he said, hair curling about his head like a cherub’s, as he squinted in the summer sun, leaning casually in the doorway. “Are you ready for an adventure?”

◦ When it came to Saturday mornings, when his mother was still sleeping off a hard night of drinking, and my parents were both long gone to the hospital where they worked, Jay and I were always ready for an adventure. Some Saturdays, we scoured beaches for hours, sunburned, laughing, creating headpieces and love beads from sea gifts we gathered. Other Saturdays, we experimented making crazy ice cream flavors like pineapple caramel and sea salt banana, cranking and old bucket churn for hours, laughing and singing every song we knew in not so perfect harmony until our decadent treats were ready. We shared them with no one - like our Saturdays, they were ours, all ours to savor. Sometimes he played the piano and we made up goofy love songs with the stupidest lyrics and then recorded them, so we could listen to them laughing until we couldn’t breathe. Saturdays in the summer we would go crabbing or clamming, bring home and cook up our catch in the kitchen of his house or mine, gobbling every bite. This Saturday we were house hunting...well not exactly hunting “for” houses, more like hunting for bits and pieces of them that we saw as treasures. Outside our town there were forests, valleys, woods, pastures, old river beds, and best of all abandoned or boarded up cabins, deteriorating cottages, and other old structures where people once lived. Like anthropologists. when we found a spot with a full or partial structure we carefully parsed through it developing the story, well a story anyway about its former inhabitants. We fell in love with one old house, we called Loraine for no reason at all, that once had been lovely we were sure, that was slowly being recaptured by nature, claimed by infiltrating branches and small trees growing through some floors. It had been ransacked long ago and often by vandals and party goers that had broken windows and torn her door from its hinges - but they had missed some of the most amazing treasures still there. Each time we found something glorious and valuable, at least to us, that could be shined up, fixed, reused, added to one of Jay's amazing art projects or something wonderful. It was on one of those Saturdays visiting Loraine that Jay noticed that way up high, flush with the vaulted ceiling on either side of the old stone fireplace two rotting boards were nailed in on the horizontal.

◦

◦ Squinting and pointing, “hey why would those be there? he asked.

◦ “What do you mean?” I said, trying to get a closer look. “There’s probably a hole there that the people who lived here closed up before they left. right? To keep rain out or something?”

◦ “No,” he said looking, “Nope, we would have seen something walking up on the outside - right? Hey help me drag some of this stuff over here I want to climb up and see, I think we found treasure, me hearty.”

◦ “Ok you dope, but if you get hurt I’m gonna kill ya. The nearest hospital is where my parents work and if I have to bring you there, and explain what we were doing, you better hope you die on the way.”

◦ “Thanks," He smirked, "Now just help me."

◦ Dragging old crates and broken furniture into a pile he could climb, I giggled initiating our favorite joke, “Ok” I said, "but this is a crummy first date.”

◦ “Heh heh, it’s not a date. There’s no Merlot...."

When there was enough stuff to scaffold Jay close to the ceiling: he climbed up pulled his trusty old screwdriver out of his back pocked and levered a bit of the old wood rotten away from the wall.

◦ We gasped when a beam of sunlight exploded through the new opening and congealed on the floor in a scrabble of gorgeous colors. Jay almost lost his balance.

◦ There behind the rotting board had been a rectangular frame of the most marvelous stained glass either of us had ever seen. A gorgeous assembly of glass shimmering depicting, well, that was hard to tell.

◦ “Wow. Wow. Wow...” howled Jay, “Jackpot! did I say we would find treasure, or what? ◦ We are taking these home, Ro, not leaving them here for someone to destroy.”

◦ "Them?" I asked.

"Yeah, "He said, "Look to my left...see the matching board on the other side of the fireplace? See? Ten bucks say that there is a matching one in the other side!"

◦Prying each corner away from its inset with the screwdriver, and with a gentle tug Jay pulled the metal frame of the piece away from the wall. Carefully shifting his weight and twisting slowly so as not to topple his makeshift platform, "Here", he said, "Take this carefully. He stretched as far as he could down to hand me the piece without losing his balance. At 5'2" I was on my tippiest of toes reaching to grasp it. Finally I did, with a sigh of reliefe, and carefully placed the gorgeous old stained glass piece on an old ripped rug and stepping back to take it in.

"Oh Jay, man this is beautiful."

The stained glass inset that once graced Loraine's living room was a mosaic, myriad colors fitted together so perfectly to create a sparkling rendition of sunrise over a shimmering ocean. Even inn it’s dusty state it was marvelous.

As he landed back down and wiped his face and hands on his back pocket bandana, Jay said..."Hoo wee, little mama we found a beaut this time." His arms went naturally around me and mine around him as, as we took in the piece that measured we guessed about 1 ft x 2 ft.

"Come on, " He said, "Help me shift my climbing mound over. I want to see the other one. I am betting on sunset on that side...." he laughed.

In short order Jay was handing down the other piece, darker, but just as lovely. A perfect opposite to the first, a mooned starry sky over crashing seas shimmering in greens and blues. We felt like pirates, and lottery winner, and children, and frolicking puppies all at once.

◦ We took off our dusty sweaty outer sweatshirts and wrapped the glass pieces in them to carry them back to Jay's old castoff mint green Cadillac. As we carried our treasures along the path we bantered, happy, exhausted, filthy, delighted, and so proud of ourselves.

◦ "Leave it to you to find these, after all this time! How did you know they were there all of a sudden?" I asked.

◦ " I didn’t. No one did I guess. There was so much debris on the outside of the house leave and all no one could see those window inserts from outside and inside...well you saw..it all just blended together...all crappy wood. Then he said something that I never forgot and would come back to me again and again when we no longer shared Saturdays..."Sometimes I think you see what you are supposed to see, not what's really there, ya know?"

he continued, "Until I...hey what’s that...? He said shrugging a shoulder toward a small pile leaves."

"Leaves." I said.

"No, no - next to that."

◦And then I saw it. A battered weather beaten white enameled water pitcher with a bend in the handle half submerged in the dirt.

"Oh that, how good I miss it? I laughed..."Its a misshapen water jug."

"Oh Pittella you have to learn to see art. Let’s get these to the car and I’ll run back and get that for you."

"For me? I asked. "What will I do with that?"

◦"You’ll love it." He said, as he stowed the stained glass pieces on the huge bench backseat of the caddy and ran back to get the pitcher.

◦ And he was right. I did love it. Still do as it graces the mantelpiece in my cozy little Bay State Rd apartment overlooking the Charles river. From the day Jay proudly presented me the refurbished pitcher freshly repainted banged dent free and polished, filled with bouquets of dried hydrangea, babies breath, ferns feathers and white birch stalks all gathered and dried hanging upside down by him in his attic,...a sculpture of nature...a forever memory of our many forays into beautiful places eternally...a labor of love. Long after high school graduation and past college and graduate school, years after our last visit to Loraine, I carried that beautiful gift with me from one side of the country to another. I wondered what he would think seeing it there when he stopped by tonight. We had chatted at Christmas 6 months or so ago, saw each other at a school reunion each with our significant other at the time. Before that at his Mom's funeral, when we laughed and cried a bit over bad drinks at a seaside bar, mostly about the tragedy of our very different but equally dysfunctional childhoods, "Saturday's saved me, " he said. "Me too" I sniffed.

We had stayed in touch sort of but we were of course no longer exclusive parts of each others lives. Interestingly, when I had dumped my last lover I thought about calling Jay and telling him for no reason at all and then didn’t. Oddly I thought about Jay on and off all the time. Sure he was busy crazy creative as ever...surrounded by people he wowed. That was always had always been his place in the world. He never moved very far away away from where we grew up. Unlike me he was not escaping the familiar. With his mother gone now and a beautiful house by the ocean bequeathed to him that he refurbished piece by piece. I wondered who he hunted treasure with now. Someone beautiful popular who adored him I was sure, and I was glad - I would ask him all about it when I saw him tonight, I thought.

My cell buzzed and I recognized Jay's number.

"Hey, I said, "Where are you?" My heart leaped unexpectedly. Self, What the hell is wrong with you? It was just Jay. Geesh...I heard him say ...

"...In a cab on my way to you, cool if I drop by in like 20 minutes?"

"Sure, just buzz me" I said. "We will have to order in or go out though...the cupboard is bare, and I am wearing a sweatshirt."

"Heh! he laughed - " Oh I have a better plan...put your red dress on and let’s go have dinner and I will even pay."

"What? How do you know I even have a red dress?" I laughed.

"Cuz you always do..." he said, I could hear the smile in his voice, and something else, mischief?

"Put it on and meet me on the sidewalk...in 20 - cool?" he laughed. "I have so much to talk to you about. See you soon Ro..."

We hung up and for a minute I was dazed and not moving. There was something a bit too exciting going on in my chest ...I glanced at my phone remembered he said “I have a better plan" - Jay never made plans - that was one of the cool vagabond things about him actually. Did he say "20 minutes? ” I dashed to change, throw my hair into a loose bun and hunt for a lipstick. Lipstick. What the hell...this wasn’t a date ..."No merlot!" I laughed finding my tube of barely used scarlet kiss I grimaced at the mirror and put some on. With a Spritz of gardenia parfum I found my jacket...black leather over a red cocktail dress...ok, I was going for an eclectic mix...also that was my only jacket..and then the downstairs door buzzer sounded. Grabbing my purse and keys I pushed the button and said...”perfect timing”...”I hope so,” he said, “hurry up, your chariot awaits”...

“Ok weirdo” I said and was down the steps in a flash.

And there he was. All smiles...looking quite chic in uncharacteristically coordinated black pants and red shirt, his hair curly, longish and shiny. “Omigod is this why the red dress. Seriously we had to match?”

Jay hugged me and kissed my cheek laughing...”Yep. Shut up. Just go with it, ok. We are blazing new trails here.”

"We are?" I laughed as he took my hand and pulled me into the waiting cab.

"Yep, " he said, "...first, let’s get where we’re going, and then I have so much to tell you." He leaned forward and tapped the plastic divider to get the drivers attention. "Ok buddy" he said, and the taxi started up and eased into traffic.

"Don’t you have to tell him where to go?" I asked.

"Nope." Jay said, with that new confident mischief he could not contain..."it’s all arranged."

"It’s all arranged?" I laughed twisting to look him straight in the face. "Omigod it’s gotta be the apocalypse. Since when do you arrange things? Since when do you 'have a better plan'? I looked at him agog. Who was this guy? "Wasn't I usually the one with the arranging and the planning?"

"Maybe in old times, he said - told ya, blazing new trails."

◦ The cab ride was just like old times, like we had not lived almost entirely separate galaxies with only the occasional momentary intersection. We talked and laughed and caught up on a million things, mutual friends, family updates. I noticed he did not volunteer any info about his love life at the moment, but nor did I. Here and there over the last year or two he had regaled me with the hilarious details of "some dates from hell” he had been on, mostly arranged by his Uncle Milt or countless cousins or friends, even one ex-girlfriend who he said must have been trying to marry him off, or punish him. To me, date was a four letter word all right and I avoided the ritual more often than indulging in it. The fit was always always wrong.

Seemed so natural that we had both visited shelters in the last year and both adopted not one but two dogs, not pups but full grown amazing creatures who had become our raison d etre. Our lives seemed to stack together like crazy mounds of random stuff but somehow tracked eachothers.

I was so sad to hear that Uncle Milt , my favorite member of Jay's family had passed away.

"Oh no" I said, "oh no, he was such a darling. Why didn't you call me?"

"Honestly, I couldn't say the words, " He said, "Or write them, or text them without cracking up. Uncle Milt was my father, brother, uncle, mentor...everything."

Jay squeezed my hand and suddenly sobered ..."He remembered you, ya know? Do you remember when you called me to pick you up from a family thing you were miserable at. Tt was summer and you had a red and white polka dress on and white platform shoes. When I pulled up to your house you flew out the front door and dived into the caddy ...." When you called, Uncle Milt said, "go be her white knight - that one is a keeper."

"He did?" I said, "Yeah, I remember, Uncle Milt was at the Windjammer that night when we got there and he said..."

"...Right.."He said you looked like Aunt Rose, the love of his life, remember ... and he asked would you dance with him...

"...right! And you said, Be cool Unc she doesn’t dance to this stuff..it was..."

" I remember, this Jazzy slow bluesy music ,,and yes I did too dance to that stuff ...and we both told you to shush and we danced..."

"...yep...he was a charmer alright...and he thought you were..."

"...spunky he said...I remember...he called me spunky..."

"Yep, and he always asked me about you when he stayed with me..."

"...wait, he stayed with you, when?"

"Yeah..."Jay said looking at his watch. "Parkinson’s.... Hit him really hard and he needed help. You know my family is basically a den of vipers. No one else wanted him and honest I loved having him in my place."

"Oh geez Jay, I didn’t know." Then hitting his arm .."Why didn’t you tell me, bozo."

"He told me not to. Actually he specifically said not to tell YOU because he said he wanted you to remember him dancing to sexy jazz music nit shaking and old."

When Jay looked up his eyes glistened with too many tears.

I impulsively wrapped my arms around him to absorb the pain and we stayed like that quite comfortably for the last few blocks before the cab pulled over and braked.

When the cab stopped it was in front of the Fairmount probably the most expensive and chichi hotel in the city.

"Here. I said? Are you nuts...do you know expensive this place is?"

Jay laughed..."Give me just a little credit...and besides I have a rich benefactor tonight."

"What I said? Omigod ...wait do you have a sugar mama...oh Jay you have always been so cute, it only makes sense, who is she? Wait, is it a he? You can tell me."

"Ha ha no you idiot..."He giggled..tugging my hand..."Will you just come with me. Just trust me." And oddly, I realized, I did, just like old days.

We walked arm in arm to the gorgeous, gleaming brass and glass doors of the Fairmont, and was greeted warmly by the doorman.

"Sir," he said, "your table is ready." Tipping his cap to me, "welcome to the Fairmount."

Jay said "Thank you Simon," and guided me expertly down the main hall, past the front desk. All 3 desk clerks smiled at Jay and said..."Evening sir."

"Hey, Jay," I said "what is this sir stuff..."

"They are very polite. "he said.

"No no I mean how did you know the doorman’s name? How does he know you."

"His name tag...of course...and because I made a reservation for this time. Maybe the only one, so he remembered my name. Excellent service here." he said.

"Jay, that cant be right - The only one. Jay hey this is my turf and I know people can’t get a table here sometimes for a month...it’s a very busy place...I said..." just as we reached the open doors of the Empress Room, the hotels world famous restaurant.

But there was no one there...

◦In fact there was only one table set right in the center of the room, with candles lit, and roses in a vase, and a very classy waiter awaiting. And there in the silver gleaming ice bucket, tucked carefully in a sea of crushed ice, there it was. A bottle of Merlot.

Dazed, the waiter tucked me elegantly into one of the two chairs at the table.

"Before you say anything let me tell you 3 things", Jay said.

First, Uncle Milt was not the pauper everyone thought, he actually owned not just the crummy Windjammer, where I grew up and you met him. But this place, the Fairmont since like 1955 - he was loaded. When he got sick he could have gone anywhere, but he wanted to see who really loved him. And you know, I really loved him - so when he passed he left everything to me. I am still in shock - hotel, tons of money, three cars - the works."

"its weird you are not talking" he said.

"I am not sure I am even breathing, "I said, but please tell me the other two things.

"Second," he said, "this is a date. See Merlot".

"Ok, I said."That seems good - weirdly." "Exactly!" he said, "Right" - "Weirdly Right!"

"Go on," I said, "I am running out of oxygen."

"Uncle Milt said I would be a fool to let one more year go by without you in my life - you are the gap, you are the missing puzzle piece, you are the person I have to be with to be happy, and your are the only one I can make happy, no matter how I try. You and me, he said, are soul mates like him and Aunt Rose - and if we blow it - all his money and all his things wont make a difference - but if we grab the brass ring and go for it - we will have the life of Riley."

"Who is Riley"....I laughed and gasped for air.

In the net few days as we moved my meager belongings to the Fairmount to a suite adjoining Jays - I wondered how we had both survived all those years apart and why it took Uncle Milt to bring us together. The future ahead promised many new adventures, on new trails to blaze, and many glasses of Merlot during a thousand "dates" to come. Do old loves age like good wine - we would see.