The Purple Hearted Bottle

Cold dirt slipped from my left hand and scattered on the casket of my Nana on a sunny but cool day. Through teared eyes I could see well-meaning friends observe, no, stare, as I held the cluster of Violets in my right hand out over the hole in the broken earth. I dropped them and they landed on the casket below.

The purple flowers bounced and the stems formed the shape of a heart.

"How fitting." I thought, in my shielded state of mind. I rotated my wrist to expose the Merlot colored Heart embedded in my skin, just like Nana's below. We matched. We always matched except with age and her pragmatic wisdom shared over the years.

I returned to my place by the family, yet not my family. To my left sat Uncle George, the asshole and narcissist, I can't separate the two. On my right sat Aunt Lucy, once a drama queen, but now a prescription drug impaired zombie who stared into a void of unknown existence. The blah blah of the minister stopped and on cue I stood and walked away from everyone to my car.

His hand grabbed my arm before I could open the door and swung me around. My Uncle George, taller by six inches, faced me with his soul-less eyes and said. "One hour, Henry, that's what you've got, to get your stuff out of the house. The new owners want the keys tonight."

I jerked my arm out of his grip.

"One hour, Henry, I don't want trouble! Hear me?" He barked through the window, his spittle sprayed the glass. I started the car and drove off.

My eyes watered not for Nana, but from rage against the cruelty and hate embodied in her own children. Twenty years earlier, widowed, Nana found love from one that generated hate from all but one of her children.

The one child who loved Nana unconditionally, my mom, had been killed when I was six, and Nana raised me with her partner, Danielle. Uncle George and Aunt Lucy hated her for their relationship. One heartless, one drug impaired, yet both incapable of understanding true love and commitment beyond the money to meet their own desires.

The gray two story house set behind a white picket fence, and front flower gardens, loomed in front of me. I stopped my car at the end of the driveway, hesitant. This would be the last time I entered the house where Nana taught, loved, corrected, and molded my life. I had one hour to retrieve possessions and memories from all the decades of my life with her. I pulled the car up and parked.

The lavender front door, unlocked, opened to my touch and I closed my eyes, entered, and breathed in deep. The smell of lilac permeated the air and my lungs along with the ancient fragrance of oak wood floors. I wanted the scent to saturate my clothes to carry away with me, forever.

It only took a few minutes to gather the things I wanted and load them in the car. The picture of us with my Mom when I was six, my graduation picture with Nana and Danielle, and my Mom's family hope chest, included.

Then I sat at the kitchen table where Nana held court, family circle, and counselor. She was my dearest friend. We talked about school, careers, love, and the Atlanta Braves and wine. She loved her wine.

She taught me about wine and it's really what the song "Love Potion #9" was all about. She always laughed when she told this. "It works." She said.

Nana could have been a Sommelier with wine as well as a Sommelier of life. The Bright Cellars Wine Club became her wine supplier of choice because of the selection, convenience, and good prices without having to leave home. Nana loved to save a dime or two. Her preference? Merlot. My first alcohol had been a glass of Merlot with her in the kitchen.

The door closed behind me and in a trance I walked to my car, then I remembered, the bottle. The hand engraved Merlot she gifted and set aside for me. I had to find it and only fifteen minutes were left.

Urgency pushed me to run into the house with near panic that I almost forgot this most important thing, a bottle of Merlot. Nana had drawn a purple heart on the label, handed to me, and said.

"When you meet your true love, a life partner. Bring her here, and we will share this together to celebrate."

The heart matched the Merlot colored tattoo on both our wrists, The Purple Heart, she said represents, sacrificial love. Her words still resound through my mind. Now, that day would never come.

"Purple represents a true love that will endure anything. Red hearts are for passion which can ebb and flow but purple means forever, no matter what comes. The color of Merlot is a mix of Red, Blue and Green.

Red is for passion which can ebb and flow.

Blue is for friendship and stands fast through trials.

Green is for creation of new things and continued renewal of life together. It will take all three kinds of love to endure this world of joys and travails. Find the one with whom you can grow this trio of love. "

Nana found, lived, and demonstrated it with Danielle whom had died three years earlier.

The search took me throughout the entire house and I couldn't find the bottle. In fact, I couldn't find a single bottle of wine anywhere. Uncle George had cleaned it all out.

The garage, once full of tools and stored boxes had been emptied except a Bright Cellars box lay in the corner. Excited, I ran to the box and found it empty. The Purple Heart bottle, the Merlot, the link to my pact with Nana was gone.

Outside, Uncle George stood by his truck as I left the house and went to my car. He watched me and tapped his watch. I drove away.

One year later.

My work project was behind schedule and I missed my friend Tim's birthday dinner. My group had become worried about me, I know, I overheard their whispers. I took a break to post a wish on his page in lieu of my absence on his social media page.

Mid bar of the page, as usual, a friend of a friend of a friend popped up in my social media page as a possible connection. One hundred percent of the time I ignored it, until now.

The face that stared back at me was perfect, her sharp cheeks and balanced chin, black hair, and large deep brown eyes. She portrayed a class of beauty and confidence that more than anyone I had ever seen. Her name was "Lil'".

She wore a purple blouse that, though conservative, showed excellent taste in style and material. I thought, "Wow, these filters are getting better and better." I deleted it and went back to work.

The next night, while engrossed in my work, someone knocked on my door. Annoyed, I paused my computer and answered the door. Six people, my closest friends, all stood there and Emily, always the leader of the pack said.

"Are you going to let us in or not?" She marched the others past me into the main room of my apartment, we mumbled greetings. She walked into my kitchen pulled glasses down, opened a bottle of wine and said.

"Everyone sit! We all sat.

"So, what's this all about? I asked, to anyone who would answer.

Tim said, "Well, this was Emily's idea, and, well, this is an intervention!

"An Intervention?' I echoed. "For What? I don't do drugs!"

Emily served everyone a glass and said, "This is about you not socializing. It's not healthy the way you have holed up since your grandmother died. We know it has been hard, but we love you and think you need to get out."

"I do get out with you." I replied.

"You have missed five of the last six group gatherings Henry." Tim said.

"We've been thinking that you might need a break from us and a more one on one approach might be what's needed!" Emily said, "So, we took the liberty of setting up a blind date Friday night at Rick Irwin's Grill."

I grew angry and said, "What? A Blind date, with whom, and why. You committed my time and money without me having a voice in it, that place is expensive." I shouted, "Cancel it!"

Tim looked at Emily and then the others and said, laughing, "I told you he was a cheapskate" Then to me he said.

"We all kicked in and prepaid everything. So, we aren't cancelling and you're going. At least don't waste our money."

"Friday night seven pm. don’t be late, her name is Lily" Emily ordered.

Friday night came and out of respect for my friends and their good intentions I found myself, on time, at Rick Irwin's Grill. The maître d told me my date had been seated and led me to our table. I stopped when in sight of the table, surprised.

Lily was Lil' from the social media page the few night earlier. She wore a lavender cotton dress and appeared identical to her social media picture except more beautiful in person.

Lily smiled and said "Cat got your tongue?"

I stuttered, "No, not at all!"

"Great, then sit and have a glass of Merlot with me, I took the liberty of ordering." She said.

I smiled, sat, and a most amazing date began.

Three Hours Later

The time flew by as we learned we had so much in common. Lil's grandmother, like mine, had raised her since she was five. She lost her, to cancer, one year before Nana died. We talked about both and the more we talked a unique energy seemed to engulfed us. We created our own bubble. For a time, no one else existed in our world.

Several times her hand touched mine as we laughed and a few times we both found tears. We enjoyed being together, it felt like the Green heart of renewal Nana talked about.

Lil' asked about the Purple Heart tattoo on my wrist and I told her about the marked bottle of Merlot lost forever. Her eyes teared up, and she laid her hand on mine in compassion, for a moment, there was concern in her eyes.

Outside, the cool air brushed our faces, our eyes gleamed with the reflection of the street lamps as I walked her to her place. At her door, she said

"I never do this on a first date, but I'm going to invite you in Henry. There's something I want to show you."

Puzzled, yet excited, I followed her inside and sat on the couch beside her.

She said, "I'm nervous about this." Our eyes were locked.

Lil' put her hand on mine, smiled, "I will be right back." She left the room."

The pause allowed me to review the date up till now. For the first time, understand Nana's lesson about Red Heart is passion, Blue heart is friendship, and the Green Heart is renewal. I felt all three.

I will not do anything to ruin it." I thought to myself.

From the doorway, Lil' said, "Henry, Close your eyes."

I obeyed and said, "We don't... have to..." She interrupted.

"Open them, please." I did.

Lil' stood there in front of me holding the bottle of Merlot with the Purple Heart drawn by my Nana.

"I found it in a thrift shop and thought it extraordinary with the hand drawn purple heart and bought it."

Tears ran down her face and mine, as I stood, pulled her to me with the bottle of Merlot between us. We kissed, gently, and I knew that it would be our last first kiss.