Wine and Pretzels

Boy, I really hate this job, Queenie thought, just as Rudy walked through the door of the ice cream shop. She watched him smile and talk to nearly everyone he passed as he made his way to the counter. Queenie knew Rudy from one of her college classes. He was always with a crowd of other students who seemed to worship him. Yes, he was cute---but what was the big deal really? She stared at him as he made his way to the counter.

“Hey pretty lady,” he said. “What’s good today?”

“Well, there’s chocolate. And then there’s vanilla.”

Rudy gave a short laugh. “Guess it’s chocolate then. Oh---and how about a date to go with that?” Queenie stared at him and did not reply. Then she scooped the ice cream into a cone and handed it to him. “Do you even know my name?”

“It’s Queenie….. I asked around.”

Queenie stared at him for a good minute before answering. Maybe it’ll be fun. Maybe it won’t. But I will certainly make a lot of other girls jealous—and THAT would make it worth it!

“Fine,” she replied. “Friday night at 7-when I get done work.” She turned away to hide her smile. Simple as that.

※※※

Rudy showed up at the ice cream shop with the big plan to go to a drive-in movie. He found out that Queenie had a fascination for movie stars, so he thought his plan was a winner—at least he hoped so. He had a bottle of Merlot and a bag of pretzels. What could be better than that? He looked around as he entered. The ice cream shop appeared empty, but it was still open as all the lights were blaring, including the “OPEN” sign in the window.

“Hello?”

A head popped out from a doorway behind the counter.

“Oh my God, can you help me?” said a male teenager with black hair hanging over his forehead and covering one eye. “Something is wrong with Queenie!” Rudy entered the back room and saw Queenie lying on a narrow bench moaning, looking as if she was in pain.

“She keeps moaning and rolling on the bench. I think she’s dying!”

Queenie looked up at him and started crying. She knew that Rudy would not ask for another date now, although right at this moment, she did not care. She knew she wasn’t really dying, but it certainly felt like she was. The sharp pain in her back would not stop.

“Queenie, what is your telephone number? I’ll call your parents.”

The teenager, whose name was Billy, replied quickly, “I already asked her that and she won’t tell me. She won’t even talk to me.”

Making a quick decision, Rudy said, “Ok. Help me get her to my car. I’ll take her to the hospital.” Rudy expected Queenie to object, but instead, she held onto him tightly as they nearly carried her to the car. At the hospital, the doctors and nurses took over and Rudy simply sat in the waiting room---waiting. He tried to get information a couple of times—but without any luck. Finally, three hours later, Queenie was wheeled into the waiting room.

“Kidney stone,” she said. “You need to take me home.”

Rudy pulled up to Queenie’s house and helped her out of the car. As they approached the front door-it swung open, and a large man filled the doorway. A small woman stood behind him with her hands over her mouth, making a mewling type of sound. Rudy quickly thrust his hand forward and said, “Rudy Morella, sir. You must be Queenie’s father.” The man looked down at the offered hand and narrowed his eyes. He then pointed to his left ear.

“Rudy Morella, sir,” he said again in a louder voice, thinking the man did not hear him. This time, the man pointed to both ears. Rudy turned to look at Queenie. “Deaf”, she said. “Both of them.” She leaned in and quickly kissed his cheek. “Thanks” she whispered, then followed her father into the house and quickly shut the door.

※※※

Queenie moved forward to go past her father, but he stopped her by grabbing her arm. She looked at him and he signed, “No dating” to her. “You are not to see him again.” Queenie signed backed angrily, “I will see him again. He’s nice, I like him.” She looked over at her mother, who was now looking down at the floor. This was her way of not “listening” to the fight between Queenie and her father. It also signaled to Queenie that she would not have her mother’s support on this topic, as usual.

“I am going to see him again, Daddy, whether you like it or not.”

“I am your father and I know best for you. If you do not want to listen to me—you can leave this house and live elsewhere.”

Queenie rolled her eyes because her father had made this threat before—several times in fact. She knew her father did not think she would follow through with leaving, mainly because he knew she did not really have anywhere to go—but this time Queenie was determined that she would get out of this house. She turned and quickly pulled open the door. Rudy looked up at her and grinned sheepishly. He was a bit shocked when the door shut in his face, and somewhat confused about the entire night –so he had done nothing—and had not left.

“What are you still doing here?”

“Well…. I don’t know exactly. I feel like I should maybe talk to your father. He should know what kind of night you had.”

“And how do you think you will do that? Do you know sign language by any chance?” Queenie said sarcastically.

Rudy looked past her and signed to Queenie’s father. “Wait here.” Rudy turned and ran back to the car. When he returned, he handed the bottle of merlot to Queenie’s father. Then he handed him the bag of pretzels too.

“Can we have some wine and pretzels--- and talk?”

Queenie stared at Rudy, speechless. She felt a hand on her shoulder and a small pressure pulling her backward. Her father stepped past her and opened the door completely, gesturing for Rudy to enter. Rudy walked by Queenie with a small, smug smile on his face.

※※※

Rudy picked up the glass of wine and tipped it toward Queenie’s father as if to toast. Two dark eyes glared at him from under angry-looking eyebrows, and Rudy reconsidered, simply taking a small sip. He watched the older gentleman swirl his wine, and then take a small sip. A slight nod of his head told Rudy that the wine was acceptable. Rudy proceeded to attempt a conversation using sign language, something he had never really done before. He had learned sign language one summer when he thought he would enter the world of volunteering for some worthy cause, like the Peace Corps. Unfortunately, that endeavor never became reality, as the world of college and working for tuition took over. But he did learn sign language, which was hopefully going to come in handy right now.

“Mr. Killoren, did you know that the word “merlot” comes from a French word that means “little blackbird?”

No response from Mr. Killoren.

“How do you know my last name?” Queenie whispered in his ear.

“I asked around, remember? And why are you whispering? It’s not like he can hear you.” Rudy chuckled softly.

“Don’t expect him to talk to you. He has never let me have any boys here. Ever. He thinks he is protecting me from the evilness of men.”

Rudy smiled and looked down. Then he looked up at Queenie’s father. He swirled his wine also.

“This is a warm climate merlot—made in California. Can you taste a hint of mocha and vanilla?”

Still no response, but Mr. Killoren took another sip of the wine. Then he picked up a pretzel and started munching on it.

“So, Merlot grapes arrived in California in the mid-19th century. They are the second most planted wine grape in the world. It is not the most popular kind of wine, but I like it. What do you think?” Rudy thought he was being very sophisticated and hoped it steered Queenie's father toward liking him, even just a little.

Another small nod of the head. After some rapid signing that Rudy could not keep up with, Queenie got up and brought her mother in from the other room, along with a wine glass. Rudy quickly poured her a glass and handed it to her. “My mother loves wine,” Queenie said. “We just don’t have it that much.”

Queenie’s mother took the glass with a smile, then relaxed back in her chair and took a slow sip. She sighed and her smile widened even more. She reached over and grabbed a couple of pretzels.

“How about you, Queenie. Do you like wine too? Would you like a glass?” Rudy asked.

“Well, I think I like it. I haven’t really had it much. But after everything that has happened tonight, I am good with just drinking water, as the doctor told me.”

“Good idea.” Rudy turned back to Queenie’s father. “Mr. Killoren, I respect your daughter and would like to take her out on a date. Would that be okay with you and Mrs. Killoren?”

Queenie looked at her parents and saw them exchange a glance. They had developed their own type of communication over the years that did not require words. It was weird sometimes, but Queenie was a little jealous of it. Queenie’s father stared at Rudy. Then he raised his glass and gave another small nod.

※※※

Rudy walked to the car. Once settled inside, he took a deep breath in, then let it out very slowly. He knew bringing the bottle of merlot and pretzels was a good idea, he just did not realize how good the idea would turn out to be. What a strangely good first date, Rudy thought.

Queenie watched from the door as Rudy got in his car and sat there for a few minutes before pulling out of the driveway. Suddenly, the events of the night caught up with her and she felt very tired. She stopped in the living room where her parents were still enjoying their wine. Her father looked at her and nodded. Her mother smiled at her also. Queenie walked over to her father and gave him a quick hug—something that did not happen too often but felt really good right now. “Best first date ever.” She whispered into his ear, even though she knew he could not hear her. Somehow she thought he still knew.

※※※