Wine Country Girl
A jilted bride seeks solace and redemption amongst the vines.
***
It had come down to this. I'm sitting here alone in my room at a beautiful B&B on what should be my honeymoon -- but instead I'm still in shock at the crazy turn of events in my life. Two weeks ago, the guy who I thought was my happily ever after, suddenly decided that he wasn't ready to settle down and called off our wedding. It's not like he wanted time to think about it. Nope, he flat out decided to just move on and he walked away...from the wedding and from me. Who does that? I just thank God we hadn't moved in together.
Hunter and I had dated since our junior year in college where I was a journalism major. After graduation we moved to the same city in the Midwest and found our dream jobs: him as the beverage manager at an upscale restaurant and me as an on-air meteorologist at the local peacock affiliate.
Both our careers looked promising and aside from our supposed love for each other, we shared a love of the grape. Yes, wine. He was preparing to go for his Level 3 sommelier certification which is the main reason we'd decided to spend our honeymoon in wine country.
When he called off the wedding, my father got screwed out of several large deposits for the venue, the caterers and the flowers. Hunter had pre-paid for the honeymoon and I'd told him, in no uncertain terms, that unless he wanted to become the hunted, it would be wise to let me go ahead and use the reservations. Besides, I had already scheduled the time off and now I desperately needed to just get the hell out of town, decompress and try to put the pieces of my shattered life back together. Hunter was too spineless to put up a fight and he didn't have the balls to ask for his engagement ring back, both of which were a good thing for him considering my state of mind.
We'd taken trips to Napa Valley in the past but this time we wanted to explore the Zinfandel wines of Dry Creek Valley so I'd found a romantic little bed & breakfast to book for us in Healdsburg. When I checked in, the owner was a little perplexed that I was alone since the reservation indicated there would be two of us there for our honeymoon. He probably felt sorry for me which may explain why he sent a nice bottle of wine up to my room.
So, here I am at the ripe old age of twenty-five, on my second glass of Zin and I have absolutely no plan of what I'm going to do for the next week, let alone the rest of my life. I did know that I couldn't just sit in my room and feel sorry for myself the whole time so I decided to walk to a nearby bar and grill the owner had recommended. My tears had ruined my mascara so I touched up my make-up, threw on a sweater and a pair of jeans and walked the short distance to the Creekside Inn.
Even though it was mid-summer, the place was fairly empty since it was a Monday night so I walked in and found a seat at the end of the bar about as far away as I could get from anyone else. The bartender came over quickly and greeted me. She was a pretty brunette and looked to be in her late 30's and I had the first impression that she was someone that had spent a lot of time in the sun over the years.
"Hi hon, welcome to the Creekside."
I mustered a "hello" in return.
"You just here for drinks or would you like to see a dinner menu as well?" she asked as she put a bar napkin down in front of me.
"Can I please just get a Grey Goose martini up and dirty? I'm not really all that hungry," I said in a soft voice, looking down at the bar.
I probably didn't need anything more to drink but screw it, I thought to myself, this was supposed to be my honeymoon after all.
"Olives?"
"Sure."
"Regular or blue cheese-stuffed?"
"Some of each if you don't mind."
She smiled and nodded. "Sure thing. And my name's Maggie in case you need anything," she added as she turned to go make my drink.
I knew I must have looked like hell. My eyes were puffy from crying and I'm sure I had a sullen look on my face. The past few weeks had been a rollercoaster ride of emotions that ranged from downright shock, to denial, to the depths of despair, personal humiliation and then me vowing to castrate the bastard if I ever saw him again. I was drained from it all so tonight's mission was just to get drunk and forget about life for a while.
Maggie snapped me back to reality when she sat the drink down in front of me along with the excess in the martini shaker. "One Dirty Birdie for the cute young lady."
"Thank you Maggie," I said, managing a slight smile.
She paused in front of me for a moment, then she put her hand on mine. "Everything okay hon? I know it's not my business but you look really sad."
I contemplated telling her that I'd rather not talk about it but she was well-meaning enough so I decided to cut her some slack and open up.
"Just the shit-show of my life Maggie. Nothing a little vodka can't cure...or at least numb anyway."
She chuckled as I took a big sip of the martini, the vodka burning slightly as it slid down my throat.
"Amen to that sister. I think I'll join you," she said, grabbing a little tumbler and pouring my remaining drink from the shaker.
"Don't worry, the next one's on me," she said with a wink and then drained the small amount in her glass.
Her moxie made me smile and broke the ice.
I looked around to see if anyone saw her. "Is it okay to drink on the job here?" I whispered.
Maggie laughed and set the glass down loudly on the countertop. "It is when you own the damn place!" she bellowed.
"Well there's that!" I replied, laughing with her.
I watched her as she walked away. Maggie was definitely a little older than me but very fit and trim and she filled her jeans nicely. We should all look so good at her age, I thought to myself. A few minutes later she returned to check on me.
"So, I have some time, tell me about your shit-show and we'll compare notes," she said, resting her elbows on the bar.
When she leaned forward, her shirt parted revealing her slight cleavage held in check by a pretty lacy pink bra. I quickly made a mental note that she and I were probably about the same bust and cup size. My eyes must have lingered a moment too long because when I lifted my eyes, hers were locked on mine.
I felt a warm flash of crimson in my face for a moment as if I had been caught doing something wrong.
"Okay Maggie, but I might need a little more liquid courage first," I gulped, nodding down at my empty glass. "And by the way, my name's Alex," I added, extending my hand to hers.
"Well a pleasure to meet you Miss Alex," she said as we shook, her hand warming mine when they touched.
I gave Maggie a thumbnail sketch about me and what had happened as she made another drink and listened to my tale of woe.
"I am so sorry honey. Men can be such assholes," she said knowingly, shaking her head in disgust.
I told her about the honeymoon we had planned and then fished the engagement ring out of my pocket and held it up to her.