Cabernet Problems Pt.3

The glossy, black door opened, and Savannah stepped into his car. Her naked legs slithered across the seats. She could smell the new leather and assumed it was expensive. Pulling the seat belt over her shoulder, the buckle clicked. Holding the silence by opening a stick of mint gum, she granted the piece to burst in her mouth. The pleasantness broke out into a fresh mint flavor.

“So where are we going?” she asked.

Travis grinned, never shifting his eyes from the highway, “it's a secret.”

Savannah let out a harrumph and leaned her head against the cushion. His honeyed speech made her cringe, so she entertained herself by staring out the window. The night sky was cloudy, the moon relatively full, and there were a handful of stars darting out from the fog.

When the car curved towards the bustling square, and pulled into a spot in between many other cars, Savannah felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Humans enveloped them. He was less likely to misbehave in public. She was tense for a moment and asked, “you won't murder me, right?”

He snickered at her. He assumed she was joking. Not realizing that this was a genuine query, he moved on, turning off the ignition and exited the car. He was then opening Savannah's door by the time she snatched her bag and unbuckled her seat belt. He came for her hand and lifted her from the car. If Savannah hadn't felt so utterly disrespected, she might have found his actions charming.

With arms linked, Travis and Savannah walked toward the restaurant. Savannah relaxed when she felt his heated skin on hers. The doorman waved them in and took them into the back room. There were a few other couples sitting around them, which also made Savannah feel safer. Travis pulled a chair out and gestured for her to sit down. Her cheeks turned a delicate pink. She knew Travis was not a good guy, but it wasn't easy watching him shine at this chivalrous act.

The employees spaced the tables just far enough so that they couldn't overhear separate people's conversations. There were canvases hung up, adhering to a red theme. The walls were immaculate and beautiful. The server filled their glasses with water, and Travis ordered them a bottle of wine.

“I realize you're feeling curious about how our talk went yesterday, but as you suspect, we know about the wine you stole and consumed,” said Travis.

Savannah spoke, but Travis cut her off.

“Not that I don't think you're beautiful, but that's the reason we are on this date right now.”

“That still makes little sense,” said Savannah, keeping her eyes down on the menu.

At that moment, the waitress returned with a bottle of Merlot. She opened it and poured two glasses, leaving the bottle on the table. No words were spoken. There were a few acknowledgments and glances exchanged, but once the waitress went away, Travis looked right back into Savannah's eyes, and said, “well you see that wine was… special.”

Savannah grabbed her glass and began drinking. The Merlot's cherry flavor warmed her throat. She swallowed and asked, “So why didn't your aunt just fire me?”

“It's much more complicated than that, Savannah,” replied Travis.

“Okay, well, I’m clueless over here, so stop making me guess, and just tell me already.”

Travis’ face turned grim. He looked in Savannah’s eyes for a few seconds before saying, “the wine you drank- it wasn’t wine.”

Savannah laughed out loud, “HAH, what, are you trying to poison me or something?”

Travis’ frown settled on the tablecloth.

“Dude, you can’t just say stuff like that and then freeze. Jeeezus, explain please.”

“I demand you to move in with me.”

Savannah laughed again and stood up. “You’re mental. This is going nowhere. I demand to go home.”

At that moment, the waitress came back to receive their orders. Standing close to Savannah, her perfume was noticeable. Savannah wondered if the waitress noticed she was upset, but Travis ordered two dinners that sounded foreign to her, speaking fast and matter-of-factly, so she couldn't get a word in. The waitress asked if she was ok, in which Travis answered yes, and the waitress left.

“You don’t get to speak for me and order for me. I don’t know what you want with me, but it’s becoming creepy, and I need to go home,” said Savannah.

Travis peered up and seized her arm in a frenzy. He knocked over the tableware in his rush, and it landed with a deafening clang.

“You’re not going home yet, Savannah, you need my support.”

“I don’t need anyone's help, alright, I’m capable of helping myself! Myself and my son, that’s all I need,” Savannah said.

The couples at the other tables were staring at them now.

Travis scrunched the area in between his eyebrows and whispered, “You’re a mother?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Um, hello, we’ve only known each other for like 20 minutes. And you’re not the most trustworthy person I've met.”

Travis hesitated and looked at his palms. He picked up the silverware from the floor, positioned them up on a napkin, and asked, “Does your baby want a younger sibling?”

Savannah sighed, “I don’t know, maybe. Why?”

“I think you’re pregnant.”

Savannah let out a loud laugh and sat back down. Her thigh scratched against the seat, but she refused to show weakness.

“You are insane. I want you to drive me home right now, or I will call a cab. I’ve lost my appetite.” She was a little disappointed, though because her stomach was empty, but it wasn’t worth giving him any more time.

Travis agreed and after giving a large tip to the server for her trouble, they trudged back to the car.

On the run home, they stayed silent for a long time. The other cars created glares against the windshield. Savannah closed her eyes and broke the silence.

“Ok, I’m asking now because I’m curious. Why do you think I’m pregnant? And what was in that bottle if it wasn’t wine?”

“The bottle contained an elixir,” said Travis.

Savannah waved her hand forward as if to tell him to keep going.

“Aubree is adopted. I don’t know if Mr. and Mrs Mauer informed you of that.”

“Yeah, so…” said Savannah.

“Mrs. Mauer can’t get pregnant.” He pulled the car over next to Savannah’s house. He then looked back at her. “We’re scientists, sort of, our family… We are testing certain recipes if you will, that might make Mrs. Mauer pregnant.”

Savannah recalled the wine's ashy taste. Whatever science experiment they were creating was inside her. She stared into space for a while, stunned by the ridiculousness. Her lungs filled with a deep breath as the car door opened. She was grateful to smell the garbage truck as she left the car, at least the trash collector never lied to her or tried to poison her. She smiled and waved as the truck turned away from her street with its loud jet engine noise.

“Goodbye Travis,” she said, shuffling toward her house.

“Goodbye Savannah,” he replied, “I’ll be here in the morning to take you to your ultrasound.”

He drove off and left Savannah, paralyzed, in her driveway. She turned around and walked up the steps, grabbed onto the smooth new doorknob Emory bought for her (to keep her safe) and let out a small tear. She placed her hand on her stomach and decided, if there was going to be an ultrasound, Travis would NOT be taking her.