Sweet Home Merlot

Risa stared at the keyboard, feeling a mild flutter of panic. ‘What did I just do.” The blank laptop screen gave her no reply. Taffy’s wet nose nudged her knee. She slid her chair back as Taffy whined impatiently. Warm breezes blew into the open window, bringing scents of jasmine and honeysuckle, accompanied by the symphonic sounds of returning birds. Reaching back, she pushed open the French door, watching her five-year-old lab happily exit. The day at the store had been busy as the welcome of spring brought everyone out. Some were on foot, some riding bicycles and others waved from their convertibles. Perhaps, she thought, it made all seem well when she accepted a blind date from a total stranger.

Starting this blog was her respite. Dining, organic foods, gardening and healthy living was a cathartic transformation after leaving the quota meeting pressures in the halls of corporate America. Post college graduation had beckoned her to city life, where her marketing degree earned her a position in a high-powered food distribution company. Chicago nightlife and fast paced living were tempered by Pilates and jogs in the park with Taffy. But nothing like a breakup to send one packing. The calm of her small but bustling harbor town beckoned her back, where her family-owned promenade greeted townies and visitors to their country store.

Risa’s return was a welcomed relief for her dad. Frank Ramsey knew his daughter’s expertise would be invaluable in various aspects of their growing business. With the promenade expanding, retail spaces were being rented out to entrepreneurs, with two already open for business. Their market store occupied the largest space, flanked by the newly opened café and an ice cream parlor, additionally displaying jelly apples and homemade chocolates.

Their home sat on ten sprawling acres, divided by a small creek, running under a wooden bridge where Taffy loved to run. It was built in 1935, and after the remodel, an extended corridor led to a newly built guest house. Risa loved cooking in her pristine kitchen, a huge change from her cramped galley on the 5th floor of her apartment building. Adjacent to the kitchen, a huge sitting area surrounded by windows revealed its wraparound porch. The other side of the stairs led to her office, and during late weekend afternoons, Risa blogged on her keyboard as Taffy snored on her sunlit bed. The second-floor loft was surrounded by maple, cedar, and magnolia trees, reminding Risa of Annie in the children’s Magic Treehouse series. The beds of flowers on the ground below sang her mom’s name. Dotty Ramsey was an avid gardener who willfully claimed that a little arthritis would not stop her. A woman of strong faith, she was the glue that held her family together in the face of tragedy.

Risa’s blog on this morning displayed a wine toasting meme, introducing the subject of the day; newly procured and locally made artisan cheeses. What better than cheese, wine, and French bread, she wrote. It is my goal to learn more about wines, she continued, and invited her readers for feedback as to which paired well. Extending this invitation, she knew while beginning to sign off, would bring a deluge of responses. But one came instantly.

Merlot.

Merlot?

Yes, smooth as silk and aged to perfection.

Well thanks, I’ll look forward to further discussion.

I see you are in Bayview. Would love to show you the best.

The best what?

Merlot, of course! I can get there by 6:30.

I’m sorry, but we close at 6. Perhaps the following day?

I have a business appointment in Jacksonville, so unfortunately, I can’t. How about meeting me at Clydes on Bell’s Ferry?

Risa thought quickly. Bells Ferry Harbor, at that time, would be crowded with people gathered for drinks and sunset watching.

This sounds more like a date than a business appointment.

And what’s wrong with that?

I assume you’re not an ax murderer. How do you know I’m near the harbor?

You’ve blogged about it, and it just so happens, I’ve spent time there. Great place!

The daunting paperwork of the day was brightened with visiting customers, always locals and many friendly newcomers passing through. The market was a welcoming place for all. Colorful produce was brought in from local farms, fresh eggs and dairy products lined the shelves opposite displays of mustards, jellies, artisan jarred sauces, dried fruits, and candied nuts. Along the opposite end was a consignment of gifts, gourmet kitchen items, pottery, jewelry, scarves, and garden ornaments. Circular displays held a variety of items for every season and holiday. The store’s addition of locally made artisan cheese, the subject of Risa’s blog, had found its own home on a refrigerated shelf atop a cracker and chutney display.

Trepidation lingered in the back of her mind at the thought of her after work date. She only knew his name was Danny. The last thing she wanted was romance. It had disappointed her more than once, the most recent which sent her packing. Maria was the first friend she made in Chicago. They worked alongside one another and soon became dear friends. Three years prior, she had gone through a painful divorce and had recently met Roger on a ski club trip. He was kind and caring, and as their relationship escalated, Roger proposed. That’s when Risa met Bruce, Roger’s brother. Unlike Roger, he was Mr. Personality, charming and quick witted. Against her judgment Risa fell for him, soon to see that he was unreliable and self-centered. She did not escape the relationship unscathed, and notwithstanding their eventual continuation as friends, she pitied the next one who fell into his charms. He sometimes called her, jokingly asking if she missed him yet. She was now able to painlessly engage in humorous conversation, while letting him know she only missed his cooking. No, she thought, not interested in another relationship. Flipping off the store lights, she grabbed the box of cheese samples and left the store, promising herself a very short blind date.

The ferry sounded off in the distance while pier workers prepared for its arrival. Danny hadn’t been back in ten years. A wave of sentiment swept over him, remembering the many times he and his dad would head to the pier for a few beers. Thomas Salazar had received a lifetime award for his 40 years in the fire department. After the passing of his wife five years earlier, his time in the department filled his days. After attending UA Danny remained close to home, working as an ENT, and often crossing paths with his father on emergency calls. His sister Carrie was married and living in Fresno. Addie was now six and the apple of her grandfather’s eye. He was unable to deny the urging of his daughter and granddaughter to come visit, and so the trip was planned. Just weeks before, he sat with his dad on this very pier to celebrate his retirement and upcoming trip. He could still remember his father’s words. “Time to chase your dreams, son.”

Danny recalled the phone message upon his father’s return from Fresno. He had suffered a heart attack and left the world shortly after Danny arrived at his bedside.

“Danny?’ He looked up, realizing he’d been deep in thought. Jumping to his feet, he quickly smiled at the woman standing before him. “Risa?” She was sandy haired, approximately late twenties or early thirties, dressed in a casual pair of jeans and a baggy white shirt. Though he had been following her blog, her only picture showed the back of a woman with a wide brimmed hat, standing on a beach with a dog at her side. “Yes, I’m Risa," she replied, flashing a smile.

“So how does this work,” she grinned after he pulled out her chair.

“Well, Risa,” he grinned while filling their wine glasses. She felt warmed by his hazel eyes. His hair was light brown and there was a hint of salt and pepper around his temples. Something about him was vaguely familiar. “Here is the best Merlot and they sell it right here at Clyde’s. Pairs quite nicely with your cheeses.”

“So, you could've just told me to go to Clydes” she responded jokingly.

"I'm glad I didn't."

As their first glass began to empty, their interchange became easy and friendly. Much to her surprise, she was quite relaxed, dismissing the plan of a quick getaway. He told her of his roots in the area, just a few towns away, and his decision to move near his sister when his dad passed. She spoke about her years in Chicago and being back in the growing family business. "Well, here's to us coming home," he smiled while raising his glass. Risa responded with a slight clink of her glass on his. "Here's to Sweet Home Alabama."

Danny’s cell rang. “Risa, I have to take this. Can you excuse me for one minute?” “Of course, go ahead,” At that moment Officer Ronnie Tate strolled by. “Hi Miss Risa, good to see you relaxing instead of working!” She looked up at her dad’s friend. Lieutenant Ronnie, now retired, worked part time security on the pier. “Hi Lieutenant, nice to see you!” “

As Danny stepped back to the table, he looked with surprise at Officer Tate. “Well hello sir, how are you?” Officer Ronnie smiled, reached out his hand and Danny gripped him hard. On the inside of his right wrist, what Risa saw jolted her. It was a tattoo with two letters. LS. overlayed onto a faintly colored cross. Risa’s heart fluttered and a wave of anxiety gripped her. She felt paralyzed. For a minute it went unnoticed by the two men. They evidently knew each other. While trying to breathe she heard fragmented exchanges, a mention of Danny’s dad and his sister Carrie. Risa tried to stand up, “Excuse me, I’m not feeling so well, I think I should go.” Their attention immediately turned back to her, and her paleness was evident.

“Risa, what’s wrong? He slapped two twenty-dollar bills on the table, and giving the puzzled Lt Ronnie a wave, began walking alongside her. “I’m going to drive you home”. Her hands were mildly shaking, and she looked close to tears. “He had parked close by, and leading her to the door, he helped her in. “Risa, I can take you back to your car early tomorrow morning.”

“I can get a ride but thanks.”

The drive home felt twice as long, and all she wanted to do was be alone. He repeatedly tried to acquiesce what caused her sudden illness and perceptibly saw that she was clearly emotional. As he pulled up to a welcoming picket fence, he turned up the driveway. Recalling their conversation, he drove down the drive to an adjoining home further in the trees. “Risa, I’ll walk you in.

“No thanks, I’ll be fine,” Risa replied as she swung the door open.

“Can I call you?” She reached her front door and without responding the door closed. Nonplussed, he watched her go inside and slowly drove away.

Taffy greeted her, tail wagging and waiting for her attention. Sinking into the leather recliner, she closed her eyes, trying in vain to bury that vision. She remembered bits and pieces of that night, a stranger trying to calm her as a siren roared in the distance. She remembered her brother’s voice and the sounds of screeching tires. She was inside an ambulance and that person placing an IV in her arm. She remembered his rolled-up sleeves, stained with blood and the tattoo on his inner wrist. It was her last memory until she woke up in a hospital room.

The clock on the wall said 3am when she jolted out of her sleep, still on the recliner. The dream had been vivid. A kind handsome face, dimpled smile, a bottle of Merlot. Officer Ronnie, the handshake, the ambulance, the kind voice with the tattoo. It was him. She knew it. He was formerly a trained ENT and knew Lieutenant Ronnie. She recalled the events of the evening which, to her surprise, she enjoyed. She had imagined seeing him again. With cargoes going into New Orleans, a possible satellite warehouse was in the making. Danny had told her of his finance and business studies before moving back to the area, and following his dad’s death, his journey across the country, which subsequently led to a finance position with a California winery. His newly found interest in the world of vineyards led him into a partnership which now extended their market to several retailers in the Southeast and throughout North America.

Turning on the light, she opened her computer and logged onto her blog site. There was a plethora of comments and responses regarding the pairing of wine and cheese. Ordinarily, she would have happily read them all and responded. Instead, she looked back at the last comment from the evening before. Clicking on his profile she found him. A wave of warmth washed over her, and something tugged at her heart. He had tried to message her, but she could not separate seeing him from the memories which still haunted her. Learning his last name, she typed in Danny Salazar. About ten articles popped up on the first page, one being Daniel Salazar, TLS Winery. He had spoken about his father, Thomas Salazar. LS was on his tattoo. Typing further, she found what she was looking for. Obituary for Lizzie Salazar, survived by her beloved husband Thomas, her daughter Carrie and son Daniel. LS was his mom, and she had left way too soon. Risa pondered about life, thankful for her family and friends, and saddened by the brother she lost. Life was a dichotomy of joy and sorrow, love, and loss. She closed her laptop, headed upstairs, and set her alarm for 6. Like it or not, she would have to finish her blog and go to work.

Danny stared out the window. Daylight was coming soon, and he had a seven-hour drive ahead of him. The lights of moving vessels twinkled on the sea, with comings and goings of fisherman, early morning boaters and cargoes heading toward New Orleans. They would be carrying goods from foreign ports and would be met by NOLA river pilots. Seeing Lt. Ronnie brought a nostalgic twinge of emotion. He had been enjoying Risa’s company and for a short while, considered that perhaps they could meet again. She was sweet, pretty, and funny, but beyond that there was also something familiar about her. He walked away from the window, poured some coffee, and opened his laptop.

Risa’s alarm went off at 6. After her tumultuous night’s sleep, she crawled out of bed. The Keurig machine was lit, and with coffee poured, she managed to make an appearance on her morning’s blog. There was a message from Danny.

Risa, it was great to meet you, and I am so sorry you became ill. Can we try this again?

She clicked on close and went to work.

The days and weeks rolled by as new construction on the promenade continued. She looked forward to Maria and Tory’s visit from Chicago. The heat of summer was upon them and breezes from the harbor offered a refreshing coolness after a hot day. Daylight savings brought more activity along the promenade, and one night after closing the store, she walked toward the pier. People were clustered everywhere. Families, tourists, and lovers old and young, colored this little harbor town. The pier was very much alive, and she felt a twinge of sadness remembering her last time there.

“Risa, how are you?” Lisa turned to see Lt. Ronnie walking toward her.

“Lt Ronnie, hi! I’m fine, thanks. Just heading to the ferry to buy some NOLA tickets. Friends are coming from Chicago who need a good taste of the south!”

“Sounds great! When are they getting here? We’re heading into SEC baseball playoffs and BAMA is looking very promising!”

“For sure! Some time at Gulf Shores, some city life in New Orleans, some good old southern sports, and we’ve got our concert series coming up right here!”

Lt Ronnie smiled with affection. “it was great seeing Danny. He’s been gone for so long, and I didn’t know you kept in contact.” Risa’s expression immediately set him back. His brows furrowed at the sight of her downward glance, remembering the night of July 10th many years before. He was called to the scene at 1:10 am, and recognizing the car of his friend’s son, he ran immediately to the first ENT he saw, an off-duty Danny Salazar. A gurney was lifted onto the ambulance, the person unrecognizable, covered with an oxygen mask beneath a head bandage. The second passenger was clearly Risa. The two passengers had been taken quickly and sped to the YWA medical center. A sadness fell on the town in the days following. Patrick and Risa were the son and daughter of his close friend, Frank, and now they were attending Patrick’s funeral. Casseroles, cakes, and various side dishes were set up at the huge gathering hall adjacent to Trinity Church. The townspeople gathered around Frank and Dotty Ramsey, who were long time pillars in their community. Patrick was remembered by many; he often returned to town on military leave, and upon his honorable discharge, he was temporarily passing through to begin US Marshall Special Ops training in Camp Beauregard, Louisiana.

“Lt. Ronnie, he saved my life, didn’t he? “

“Risa, I thought you knew him. Danny was off duty that night and was on his way home from a wedding in Tupelo. He saw the car and called for help. He saw you were breathing and worked to resuscitate your brother. Reading the report, he got you in the ambulance and administered an IV to keep you stable.”

She looked up at him, holding back tears. He recalled the evening he saw them on the Bells Ferry Pier. He’d seen them from a distance, talking and laughing.

“Risa, trauma can do damaging things, long after your body is healed. Don’t let it win.”

The ferry horn hollered its final call as it pulled into the New Orleans harbor. Maria and Tory had arrived from Chicago two days before. They loved the quiet of the family acreage where they spent hours eating, drinking, chatting, and laughing late into the night. On their second evening, they packed up some supplies from the family market and took in a Rascall Flatts concert, followed by a late-night karaoke and pool game at a local bar. Risa and Maria watched in amusement as Tory began singing with a local and speaking French to his buddy visiting from Provence, after which all gathered on the dance floor in step dancing synchrony. Tory was always the life of the party, and if strangers were willing, she brought the party out of them. As it turned out, Francois’ family business brought him to the US. and he would be heading to New Orleans in two days.

They loved the food, the French quarter, and cafes along the New Orleans waterfront. Risa’s heart warmed with the company of these trusted friends. In contrast to the chills of Chicago they soaked in the warm breezy air. After seeing the sights and a Bayou Swamp tour which Tory insisted on doing, they strolled the French Quarter, dined on Cajun food, and sipped cappuccino in the hotel lobby, before riding up the glass elevator. Francois had texted, promising to reach out the next day. Tory had found him charming, and he seemed quite smitten with her. Back in their hotel suite, Risa opened the terrace door in her adjoining room. She could hear Maria chatting with Roger, and as the voices subsided, sleep overtook her. She was looking into her brother’s eyes. He was smiling, that contagious grin that usually preceded one of his humorous banters. Suddenly she was in a hospital room, her mom and dad beside her, looking pained and tired. “Risa,” said her dad. You’re going to be fine.” But she didn’t feel fine. The memory now jolted her out of her sleep, and she woke up hyperventilating. Disoriented, she glanced at the terrace door, remembering where she was. Emotion overwhelmed her and for the first time in years, she sobbed. Her heart felt heavy as she drifted back to sleep, once again seeing Patrick’s face. He spoke to her. “Don’t let it win, Risa.” She heard those words before. Lieutenant Ronnie. For the first time, as her tears subsided, a peace settled over her. When morning came, and the light made its way through the open door, Risa smiled.

“Ok, girls, Francois has a table for us on this swanky hotel rooftop. Dessert and drinks are waiting! Let’s get a taxi or UBER.” They had been strolling Magazine Street, taken in some sights, and had finished dinner at the famous Captain’s restaurant. Maria busied herself sending Roger detailed descriptions of each picture she texted him. “They better have coffee,” Risa replied.

“C’mon girl, it’s only 9:30. We are not going to sleep this trip away!”

"I wouldn't dream of it, Tor." Risa pulled herself off the lazy chair and slapped some water on her face. Forty-five minutes later and eighteen stories high, they stepped into a dimly lit oasis of white leather booths in circular form. They were intermittently separated by open doors which led to the outdoor patio, enveloped by a thick wall of glass adorned with tropical plants and flowers. The lights of the city skyline twinkled in the distance. Servers dressed in white suits bustled about, carrying cloth covered plexiglass trays of drinks and food.

“Hello ladies!” In typical European style Francois double kissed each of them, and holding Tory’s hand, led them to an outdoor table. There were three bottles of wine, a charcuterie board, a tray of delicious looking pastries and what appeared to be some fancy liquors. Francois was wearing a nametag. F. Ducasse.

“Merlot, Pino Grigio, or Prosecco?” asked Francois as he reached for one of the stemware glasses. Merlot, she thought. She stared at the bottle. A twinge of emotion passed through her.

Francois chatted about his day in New Orleans, his home in France, and his family bottling business. Eventually the crowd weaned, and the servers looked a bit more relaxed.

She was on her third glass and feeling slightly oozy when she noticed a familiar figure, walking toward a table at the far end of the patio. Stopping to speak to the manager, she caught his profile.

“Francois, what industry does your bottling company serve?

“We bottle beverages of all kinds; water, soft drinks, ales, wines and liquors.”

So that was it, she thought. A wine and food convention.

“Excuse me, there’s someone I need to go see.”

Tory and Maria looked surprised. “Of course,” Tory happily replied. “Bring whoever it is back here!”

With glass in hand, she rose from her chair and headed in his direction. Her heart was beating to the rhythm of her footsteps. She began walking to the far side of the bar, approaching him from behind as he sat looking out at the city. She heard Lt. Ronnie’s words. She saw her brother’s face again. “Don’t let it win, Risa.”

“Excuse me, are you waiting for someone?’ Danny turned around, a look of complete surprise at the woman standing before him. He stood up and stared into her eyes.

“Risa,” he said, bewildered. Smiling, she grabbed his hand and held it in hers, turning it slightly. Her eyes fell on his tattoo.

“Will you join us?” His smile told her everything. Hand in hand, they walked.