Its Been Three Months

As soon as he struck the match the sulfur filled his lungs. The flame was low and he brought it close to the pile of brush he had gathered to make his fire. On nights like tonight he would usually drink whiskey but she had given him a bottle of wine for all of his hard work. With the slight chill in the air, this could possibly be a perfect night for a red wine buzz.

He had only been in Spain for two days when he had first seen her sitting by the fountain in the center of town. She looked friendly, sweet and for some reason, she looked alone. Alone in a way that she had come to Spain to escape something, something or someone, possibly both. She was sitting next to the fountain writing in a small notebook, he couldn’t help but notice she had a basket next to her feet, in it were multiple packages wrapped in newspaper, a few jars of jam, some fresh berries and sticking out from the top, a bouquet of beautiful flowers.

He could tell that she had long hair, but that first day she had it pulled up in a loose bun at the nape of her neck and she had a small white flower behind her right ear. She glanced up at him and it was then he got to see how her green eyes matched her dress. Bright and full of life, she was beautiful.

He poured his glass of wine as the fire warmed the room, pulling his mind back to the present time. His back against the wall, he took in a deep breath, closed his eyes and took his first sip. His first thought was spice. Over the past three months he has come to appreciate how the Spanish use spice in all that they do and now in the wine he is has taken into his body, he tasted it on the roof of mouth with a sweetness that rolled over the front of his tongue.

He continued to watch the flames rise as he drank this gift she had given him. The smoky blackberries, the blueberries, with every sip, he could smell cherry and it smelled sweet like her hair. He poured another glass and continued to replay like a projector in his mind that first day with crisp detail.

“You’re new here in Calatayud, aren’t you?” She was looking right through him, but better yet, she was American.

“Yes, I’m originally from Boston, but I have been traveling for about a year now. And you?” He was shaking, not only at the fact that he was talking to such a beautiful woman, but at the fact that he had not spoken a full English conversation in almost a week.

“I grew up in Cleveland, traveled through most of college and about a year ago moved here. Life is simple here, beautiful. Wait till you try the wine.”

Three months he continued to tell himself, three months. He knew he was falling in love with her. But what was it that she was hiding? And at what point was he going to ask or would he just pack his canvass bag and a move on again. These old hills are perfect for the grapes, they are perfect for lovers, but he doesn’t hardly know her, but he wants so badly to touch and make her smile.

“If you’re looking for work, the Bodega Ateca Winery is always looking for help and they make one hell of a Grancha de Fuego.” Her smile was intoxicating.

For three months now he has been working at the winery and eating dinner with her. Occasionally they would go for hikes in the hills or lunches by the fountain and today he helped her clean out her shed. They laughed the whole day, sharing stories of their childhood and where they see their futures going. When everything was finished, she gave him a bottle of 2008 Grancha. “I know its not much, but you’re always drinking whiskey. Tonight you should be drinking red wine.” She placed one hand to his face as she handed him the bottle.

She wrapped a sweater around her shoulders as it was growing a little cool. She looked into his grey eyes and held his stare, and before he could say thank you, she turned and went into the house.

As he took the last sip of wine and the fire burnt low, he knew he was going to have to make a decision, he was going to have to pack his canvas sack and move on to the next region or he was going to have to let her know of his love for her. Tonight however, he was going to enjoy his red wine buzz.