Wine, Wedlock, and a Touch of Whimsy

"We're going to get married."

I nearly choked on my pasta as I sputtered and coughed into my napkin. "What?" I managed to croak out.

The corner of his mouth lifted, as if my near-death experience was simply amusing.

"We’re getting married."

I stared at his face in disbelief. "You do realize that's not typically something you should say on a first date, right?"

"And what makes you think I'm a typical guy?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, somehow regaining my composure as I twirled my fork in the spaghetti. "Hm, let's see. You're cocky. Arrogant. Likely full of promises you don't intend to keep..." I stuffed a giant bite into my mouth, throwing my efforts to be polite out the door. "And you know how to make a girl uncomfortable."

The waiter came over at that moment to refill our water glasses, and I took the moment to try and make sense of what Thomas had said.

“Well, you’re wrong on one account. I do happen to be a man of my word,” he said with a wink.

I looked into Thomas’s eyes. "What makes you think we are going to...?"

"Going to what, my dear?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes a little. "You know..." I lowered my voice to a whisper and leaned toward him. "Get married."

He leaned in as well, locked eyes with me, and whispered back, "the Merlot."

"The... Merlot?" My eyes darted to the bottle of wine at our table, and then to his glass, which was still full. If he wasn't drunk, was he just simply insane?

Thomas smiled again, a dimple forming at his cheek. "You picked the Merlot."

"And...?"

"You picked red instead of white. You let your wine breathe, swirled it in your glass, and waited to take a sip until you had smelled it first. And you didn’t pretend to get tipsy on just one glass, like other women I’ve met." Thomas regarded me with appreciation and a hint of humor. "You've got class, Anna Pemberly."

The flirt. He was toying with me. After a year of bantering with each other and becoming more like friends than just co-workers, I knew that Thomas was only serious about three percent of the time.

"Drat, the wine gave me away," I responded facetiously.

Thomas shook his head slightly. "It's not just the wine." He suddenly put down his glass and regarded me as if he was about to say something important. "You caught my eye from the moment I met you, Pemberly. Your ambitiousness, your smile, the fire in your eyes, the gentleness in the way you talk."

This time I couldn't help but laugh. "Gentleness? All I do at work is antagonize you with my insults! It's a wonder you even wanted to go out with me."

Thomas raised his eyebrows, the smile returning. "You're witty and clever. And I find it maddeningly attractive."

I couldn't think anymore, his compliments affecting me more than they should. Was he being serious? I couldn’t tell behind the dimple in his cheek and the sparkle in his eye.

"Would you excuse me for a moment," I said as I stood up a bit hastily. "I need to…” I gestured vaguely in the direction of the women’s restroom. “I’ll be right back.”

I burst through the door of the ladies’ room and stood in front of the mirror, catching a glimpse of my flushed cheeks. I barely paid attention to the water gliding over my fingers as I washed my hands and my mind raced. Was Thomas just teasing me, as per usual?

By the time I had washed my hands long enough for my fingers to practically start pruning, I had convinced myself that I was overreacting. This was Thomas, the guy who frequently pranked his co-workers. He liked joking around with me and probably just expected me to play along. My wild imagination, combined with Thomas’s sense of humor, is what made our friendship over the past year so enjoyable.

By the time I walked back to the table, I’d already rehearsed what I was going to say.

“Hi, hubby. Sorry for the wait,” I said as I slipped back into my seat. “I just wanted to call up the bridesmaids really quickly and let them know about the big day.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “The big day?”

“They are absolutely ecstatic about it. I told them we’ll probably do a destination wedding in Rome, so they’re already looking up flights.”

Thomas finally seemed to catch up. “But we don’t even have a date set, darling.”

“Oh, yes we do.”

“Really? When are we tying the knot?”

“October 28th.”

“And what kind of food will we be serving?”

“When in Rome...”

“Ah, yes, Italian. Do you already have the colors picked out?”

“Red and silver.”

“And the wine?”

I smiled at him, held out my glass, and winked. “To Merlot.”

He smiled back and lifted his glass. “To Merlot.”

We sealed the deal with a clink of our crystal glasses.

Months passed, and he continued to take me out on dates where we had entirely too much fun with each other. We went on hikes, indulged in movie marathons, and signed up for random art classes, from painting to pottery to pastels.

At times, I worried that it was all just in good fun, like our silly conversation during that first date. If we started to have a serious conversation, one of us would make a joke partway through and immediately lighten the mood. Neither of us ever got extremely sad or depressed around each other.

Until the day I was fired.

I woke up to an email from our boss asking to meet with me, and he didn’t seem pleased. Anxiety disrupted my entire morning as I blindly went about my routine, expecting the worst. I tried calling Thomas, but the call kept going to voicemail.

Where was he in my time of need?

The meeting with my boss was at two o’clock, and by that point, I had still not heard from Thomas.

“Come in,” Mr. Reynolds bellowed after I knocked at his door.

“You wanted to see me?” My stance faltered at the look on his face.

Mr. Reynolds held up a piece of paper, which was a copy of the spreadsheet I had put together a week ago. “What is the meaning of this?”

I looked at the document, genuinely confused. “It’s the data you asked for, sir.”

“Why does it look different?”

I let out a breath I hadn’t known I had been holding. “I used a new template. The structure of this one is more easy to read and-”

“Did I ask you to change the template?”

“...No.”

“Do you know what happens when employees countlessly change things without my permission, having to be called into my office multiple times a year?”

“I was only trying to-”

“Do you know how much I despise it when they do that?”

“Yes.” My shoulders sank.

There was a moment of silence before he said, “Ever since you got involved with Thomas, you’ve been taking more liberties with the company. And I find your newfound creativity to be quite out of line.”

Shock coursed through me, followed swiftly by anger.

“I’m afraid that this job isn’t good for you or for the company anymore.” Mr. Reynolds tossed the spreadsheet in the trash and leaned back in his chair. “I’m sorry it has to come to this, but I need to let you go.”

“You’re… firing me? Over this?” I couldn’t move, or even breathe.

“We’ll be in touch about the terms for your departure, but for now, you can go home. We won’t be needing you for the rest of the afternoon.”

I don’t even remember how I ended up back in my apartment. I was completely stunned, hurt, and outraged, all at the same time. Yet, hopelessness won out over all.

Finally, at five o’clock in the evening, my phone rang. It was Thomas.

I was furious when I answered. “Where have you been?”

“Anna? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Thomas. Except that you haven’t answered my calls all day. And you left no word about why you weren’t in the office. Oh, and I got fired.” The words caught in my throat as I felt the sting of my new reality.

“What?! Oh, love…”

“Thomas, why didn’t you answer my calls?” Tears were falling down my cheeks, and I suddenly realized that this is the first time he had really heard me cry.

“Reynolds sent me out to pitch the product at the last minute this morning, and I accidentally left my phone in the office. I had hoped the secretary would tell you where I was.”

I sniffed. “Well, she didn’t.”

“Anna, I’m so sorry. What happened?”

I told him the story from start to finish. The minute I finished, Thomas said, “I’m going to pick up food and come over. Don’t go anywhere.”

Thomas kept his word and appeared at my doorway a couple of hours later. He held red roses with a silver bow in one hand, and a bag of Italian food in the other.

“Please tell me you have a bottle of Merlot,” he said with a smile.

I couldn’t help but smile back. “Aw, our wedding colors,” I said teasingly as I took the bouquet and pulled a bottle of Merlot out of the wine cabinet.

“I have something special for dessert, so remind me after dinner.”

We talked as we ate lasagna and drank our favorite wine, laughing with each other like usual. But by the end of the meal, my heart had begun to sink as the events of the day came back to haunt me. I expected Thomas to crack another joke or try to cheer me up, but instead, he looked at my face and knew exactly what I needed. He stood up and opened his arms, and I rushed into them as I let the tears fall. He let me cry for a long time, holding me close as my tears soaked into his shirt.

Eventually, I pulled away from his warm embrace. “Thank you.”

Thomas gazed into my eyes with concern. “I’m here if you need to cry some more.”

I let out a laugh and wiped the remaining tears from my cheeks. “That’s enough crying for one day. Now, tell me what special dessert you’ve brought.”

Thomas suddenly seemed nervous as he slowly passed me an envelope. “Just so you know, you don’t have to decide right now…”

I eyed him curiously.

“But... I was thinking gelato,” he said as I opened the envelope.

Inside were two plane tickets. To Rome. On October 28th.

“...Thomas?”

“I know it’s only a couple months away, but you can wait until the last minute to decide whether or not you want to go.”

“But, Tom…”

“No, I won’t be missing any work.”

“You… got the week off?”

Thomas shook his head. “I called Mr. Reynolds on the way here and resigned.”

I was speechless, once again. “You quit your job?”

“Anna,” Thomas reached over and took my hand in his. “You and I have so much more potential than we give ourselves credit for. We should have left that company months ago.” He placed a kiss on the back of my fingers. “And after today, there is no way I could go back. Not after how he treated the woman I love.” Thomas looked into my eyes. “The woman I want to marry.”

It wasn’t an official proposal. I knew it wasn’t, and he knew that too. But the look in his eyes told me that this was no joke. This was absolutely, one hundred percent real. And I knew my love for him was one hundred percent real, too.

I picked up my glass and held it toward him. “To Rome.”

His famous dimple reappeared as he clinked his glass with mine. “To Rome.”