Merlot

I'll never forget that night. Teagan was the one who helped me dress for it, insisting that I wear a bit of eye shadow with my mascara. I think she was hoping I'd make an impression of some sort, as if looking nice would make Jimmy change his mind. I knew his mind was set, and frankly, so was mine. It was for closure, that night. Our first and last. Crazy, how it was our first with so much history behind us.

He picked me up, driving a 2007 Honda Civic with an impressive crack in the windshield. He was pushing himself up out of the driver's seat with some difficulty when I emerged from the front door, and he ignored my call for him to stay put. A gentleman he was, and ever so stubborn, hobbling around the side of the car on his bad leg to get the door for me.

“You could have opened it from the inside,” I told him.

“I guess.” He gestured for me to get in. I obliged, and he closed the door behind me and hobbled back around to the driver's side. I spotted Teagan standing on the porch and gave her a wave. She briefly returned it. I knew she was worried. No one could blame her. The last time she'd seen me drive away in a car with a boy...

The young man dropping heavily into the seat beside me looked so much like that other boy. I leaned my head on the car door window, trying to shut those images from my mind. It was not Jimmy's fault, his brother's actions. We both knew that. We both knew he blamed himself regardless.

It was behind us now. The future was ahead of us, its direction uncertain. There was only one thing I knew for sure: that was the last night I would spend with an Ebert boy.

“Ready?” he asked, looking at me with a hint of dubiety in his eyes. Did he expect me to throw the door open and run? Didn't he realize that, even after everything, he was the only one I wanted?

“Yeah,” I breathed, offering him the smallest smile. “Ready.”

He smiled, small like mine, and put the car into gear. My mind kept replaying the last car ride we'd had together. The one with his brother, the gun, and that horrible goodbye.

We'd have another goodbye soon. But not yet.

The car ride was quiet until he flicked on the radio – so the silence had been getting to him too. It felt wrong not to talk, but what was there to say? We pulled up to Flanagan's Steakhouse, which was pretty busy; I was a bit concerned until Jimmy told me he'd made a reservation. I stayed in the car at his request as he got out, retrieved his single crutch from the backside, and worked his way around the side of the car to open the door for me. He led the way into the restaurant, and I was quiet as he spoke with the server. We were shown to our table right away. It was a cozy little booth, lit with candles and already set with cutlery and two fancy menus. We sat down, ordered two waters, and went for the menus. They were unspoken barriers, and the silence between us continued.

I remember a lot about those quiet minutes. The chatter of those dining around us, the aromas, the way Jimmy's dark eyes darted over the menu options. It was hard not to stare at him, the way the dim light shadowed his features, making his expression seem more solemn and guarded than it really was. His hair was getting too long again. His good leg bounced under the table, close enough for me to feel it. He seemed nervous, and it confused me. This boy had seen me at my most vulnerable. Was it the setting? The situation?

“So where are you going to go?” My voice felt like a gunshot in the middle of a still forest.

He looked up, startled, as if he hadn't expected me to still be there. “I don't know,” he said, exhaling as he flipped his menu closed. “I think... yeah, I don't know. Maybe Europe. Prague or something.”

I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. “You're leaving Canada?”

“Might as well get away from it all. Daniel suggested getting out of the country for a while, and why go to the States when you could go to Europe?”

I managed a small laugh. “I've never been overseas.”

“Me neither.” He sat up a bit straighter. “Paige, I...” He paused, looking at me. It always unnerved me, how easily he could hold eye contact. Despite his nervous air, his gaze was firm. “I'm sorry.”

I shook my head. “Tonight isn't about apologies, Jimmy. It's about...” It was my turn to pause.

“Goodbyes?” he ventured.

“Closure,” I finished. “Something we both need.”

He nodded, opening his mouth to say something but getting interrupted by the server coming to take our orders. When she left, we settled back into silence, unsure how to make conversation. Neither of us were fond of small talk, but what else was there? I knew this boy's darkest secrets, and neither of us had any desire to discuss them.

About a minute into the silence, Jimmy put his hand on the table, palm up and open. We locked gazes, and my heart fluttered at the way he was watching me. It was unfair, one might have thought, that we'd never work out. The cards had been dealt, and the timing just wasn't right. The situation was a mess. We were a mess, and I could never ask him to stay, no matter how much I loved him, no matter how much he might have loved me. Time and circumstance had left that opportunity in pieces.

Still, I took his hand and held it, as I had so many times before. It was comforting.

It was cruel, how something that felt so right couldn't last.

“Remember that first time we went to Menchies?” he asked suddenly, after several minutes of silence had passed between us.

“How could I forget?” That day seemed like a million years ago, when in fact it had only been two. It hadn't been a date, not at all – I'd asked him to meet me there because of his brother. It was crazy, how everything between Jimmy and I had, in some way, shape, or form, been because of Vance. It was relieving to be able to look back on it all and not still be in it, and yet... with endings came goodbyes.

Jimmy was watching me still. “Crazy, how long it took me to actually ask you out.”

A small laugh burst out of me. “You asked me to be your grad escort.”

“That wasn't a date.”

I furrowed my brow, thinking back over the years. “I guess this would be our first date,” I realized.

“First and last,” he said, a sad smile playing about his lips. It created an ache in my chest.

“Excuse me.” We were startled by an older woman approaching our table, a kind smile on her face and a bottle of wine in hand. “My husband and I noticed you two come in. It's such a pleasant thing to see two young people so enamoured with each other.” She paused to laugh, and I watched the colour rise in Jimmy's cheeks. His hand stayed firmly in mine. “We just wanted to bless you both tonight,” she continued, offering Jimmy the bottle of wine. “It's not much – we've already drunk half – but my husband and I eloped with a bottle of Merlot, and, well, I thought you two might start a tradition of your own.”

I had no idea what to say; I knew I was blushing fiercely, even more than Jimmy was. He accepted the half-empty bottle from the woman and thanked her, setting it on the table and giving me an amused look.

The woman wasn't done. “May God bless your future together,” she said, patting Jimmy's shoulder – it only made the encounter all the more awkward. “Enjoy!” With that, she waltzed away, back to her husband across the restaurant.

Jimmy leaned forward, placing his other hand over our two clasped together. “Is that what you Christians call a 'prophetic word'?”

I laughed out loud, despite the fact that I felt quite nearly on the verge of tears. “I've never had wine,” was all I could think of to say. To this day, I have no idea what possessed the woman to say the things she did or to give us the wine. Whether it was God or simply good cheer, nothing came of it other than a bittersweet memory I've never forgotten.

Our food came, and Jimmy asked for two wine glasses to use for the wine. The server fetched them for us immediately, and Jimmy poured the Merlot with practised ease. I picked up the glass with uncertainty.

“A toast,” Jimmy said, lifting his glass to me.

I smiled at his playful tone. “To what?”

He shrugged. “I don't know. Tradition?”

“What tradition?” This is the end, I didn't add.

He paused, holding my gaze. “The tradition of forever being reminded of each other whenever we have a glass of wine.”

He was certainly right about that. “Cheers,” I murmured, tapping his glass with mine and braving a sip. It was strong – really strong – and I fought not to choke. Jimmy grinned behind his glass as I made a face. “To be honest,” I said after a moment of contemplation. “I might never have another glass of wine.”

He chuckled, but his eyes were growing distant. “Probably a good thing,” he commented, and I knew what he was implying.

So I took another sip and savoured it. It wasn't as shocking as the first. “I'm sure it’s an acquired taste.”

A feather-soft smile pulled at his lips. “It is.”

The rest of the meal was quiet, with some small talk back and forth. We were happy enough just to be together – sometimes words aren't needed. It felt like forever at the moment, but before I knew it we were back in the car, pulling into my parent's driveway. Jimmy looked at me, and I knew it was time.

“Thank you,” I said before he could speak.

He frowned at me. “What for?”

He really had no idea. “For everything. It's... been an adventure.”

A shadow crossed his face. “Paige...”

“Jimmy, I mean it. Tonight was perfect.”

“I wouldn't say perfect...”

“I would.” Before I could chicken out, I leaned over and kissed his cheek.

He caught my hand as I was drawing away. “Paige,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For proving to me that I was worth it.”

I could have witnessed at that moment, like they always teach you to, but I knew God had ample opportunity to speak to Jimmy Himself. So I just squeezed his hand and said, “Good luck, Jimmy.”

He gave me a smile and the bottle of Merlot. “Tradition,” he joked, but there was a serious tone in his voice. “Good luck, Paige.”

I got out of the car and started up the walkway, clutching the bottle to my chest. I stopped when he called my name and turned to see him leaning out of the open car window, a look of hesitance on his face. It melted to resolve.

“I love you,” he said.

My heart broke. “I love you too.”

He gazed at me, then put the car in reverse, backed out of the driveway, and drove off. That was the last time I ever saw Jimmy Ebert.

I still have that Merlot bottle.