Chapter 32 #2
Eleni beams, and I think she’s agreeing with me, until she says, ‘Absolutely right. So this is the only wine we let age in an oak barrel. It’s unusual, but we want it to be a connection with the land of Athens. It’s a very popular wine for us.’
‘I can tell,’ Ollie agrees.
‘Yes, I liked it,’ I chip in, but neither of them acknowledges me. ‘Like a gorgeous tree.’
‘I definitely think we should go for this one,’ Ollie says. ‘What do you think, Will?’
‘Oh, yeah, definitely.’
Eleni puts the earthy and definitely not fruity bottle aside.
A few wines down later, we settle on another red, and two whites for every table.
‘And what about if we strike a deal to have your wines behind the bar all night?’ Ollie asks.
‘Yes, I think that’s a good idea,’ Eleni says.
Head swimming, body swaying, we emerge back into the bright light, Eleni richer, Ollie happier, and me drunker.
I stumble into Ollie, apologising.
But he wraps his arm around me, which takes me a moment to register. It feels … different. He squeezes me, patting me on the shoulder.
‘Thanks for coming with me.’
‘I didn’t do a thing,’ I say.
He doesn’t answer, instead giving me another friendly pat before we get in the car.
‘I can’t believe you’re getting married.’
I don’t know why I say it, but I blame the tannins.
‘Mad, isn’t it?’
‘You’re happy, though?’
Ollie shakes his head, but he’s smiling. ‘What question is that?’
‘I dunno. A friendly one.’
‘Right.’
‘Because we’re friends.’
‘We are.’
‘And that’s all we are.’
‘Yeah.’ It’s hesitant, but I suppose he means it.
A bright landscape of authentic Greek lives goes by, and I see someone pegging washing to the line, another watering their plants.
Ollie keeps his eye on the road, but fiddles with a playlist on his phone. Slightly buzzed, I don’t pay attention, until Amanda Seyfried starts singing ‘Honey, Honey’.
I think of Sam.
I think of his kiss.
Then my eyes pop.
‘You have not.’
Ollie throws himself straight into the lyrics, one hand on the wheel as he dances, the other holding an imaginary microphone.
He nudges me. ‘C’mon, you love this one.’
I want to cry. But instead, I think of the happy memories we have of this song, this soundtrack, this film and play, and I join him, giving it my all.
When ‘Money, Money, Money’ comes on, I put the lyrics to his situation. Alec seems a wealthy man, a man Ollie has found, because he left behind the man who didn’t have a single penny left after bills.
It kind of sours the mood, but trying to remain happy, I turn down the music and say, ‘What a place to get married.’
‘I know.’
‘You always wanted to get married.’
‘Is there something you’re not telling me, Will?’ He’s smiling, but there are lines across his forehead.
‘No, no, just confabulating.’
‘Huh.’
‘What? Can’t a guy confabulate with his friend?’
‘Stop saying confabulate.’
‘But that’s what we’re doing,’ I say. I hold out my hands. ‘Confabulating.’
‘That wine went to your head, didn’t it?’
I nod with earnest. ‘We did have a lot. But when you started spitting it out, I took one for the team.’
‘You’re supposed to spit, Will.’
‘You dirty man.’
Ollie bursts into laughter. ‘The wine, Will.’
I baulk. ‘I just thought you were being pretentious.’
He barks a laugh, running a hand through his hair. ‘Wow, all right, then.’
‘I’m joking,’ I say, but before he can reply, I continue. ‘Tannins? Sniffing the wine? Sloshing it around your glass?’
‘What of it?’
‘It’s like you went to some high society class or something. I mean, in the car on the way here you said there had to be more to it.’
‘Again, it’s what you’re supposed to do.’
‘Well, if it was, you could have told me, instead of taking me there and humiliating me.’
Ollie’s grip tightens on the wheel. ‘You were humiliated? Why?’
‘I know nothing about wine. I looked a fool.’
‘Not to me you didn’t,’ he says, smiling at the road, but I know it’s meant for me. ‘No, I needed you there to be a realistic voice. Needed you to help me see sense. I would have easily bought it all if you hadn’t been there with your notes.’
‘Please, I thought a woody wine was fruity.’
‘Yeah, we’ll move on from that.’ He laughs, full of humour this time, and I can’t help myself but join in.
‘Mamma Mia’ comes on next, and Ollie sings along. I’m flying high with the joy of singing this soundtrack with him again.
‘Did you find it easy to move on from me?’ The question kills his buzz as his shoulders slump.
‘Shit, Will.’ His perfectly trimmed eyebrows rise, but I wait for an answer. He cricks his neck. ‘What do you want me to say?’
‘The truth, I guess.’
‘Well, let me ask you the same thing.’
‘Oh, please don’t.’
‘No, you don’t get to get out of that.’ Ollie lifts one hand from the wheel, wagging a finger at me. I can almost imagine him doing it to a bunch of undergrad students. ‘Were you devastated?’
I laugh. ‘Course I was, Ollie. You left me.’
Ollie’s hand drops, resting on his bare knee. ‘When you put it like that…’
‘Oh, it’s fine, Ol. I get why you did it.’
‘You do?’
Do I? I suppose now I do. I suppose I’ve always known, even though I can lie to myself to think otherwise. ‘We wanted different things. You were bored of me. Yada, yada, yada.’
‘I was never bored of you.’
‘Really?’
‘Will, don’t you know how much I wanted things to work out?’ He sighs. ‘When you said no to the first time, yeah, I was sad, but I also thought, well, we were young, there’s time. The second time, though … I knew what I wanted, and you knew what you wanted, and when that is different things…’
‘Right, sure.’
We sit in silence for a moment, as familiar streets zoom by. I glance at the time, seeing that the evening is still young, yet all I crave is crashing into bed.
Ollie’s fingers tap the wheel as he drives. ‘I called in sick to work.’
‘What?’
‘When we broke up. I took two weeks off and cocooned in my bed and cried.’
Wow. I stare at the passing landscape, teeth on edge.
‘When I finally got the courage to go back to work, I grunted my way through it. Will, I didn’t get over you for weeks. Months, maybe.’
My mouth runs dry and it feels as though a stone is lodged in my throat. But I croak, ‘And did you ever think about … about reaching out?’
‘Why do you think I focused on trying to remain your friend?’ Ollie asks, and he sounds wounded. ‘Like, I tried so hard, but you didn’t give much back. Eventually I thought I should just give you space.’
‘Right.’
‘It’s what I thought you wanted.’
‘I suppose I did.’
‘Exactly.’
‘And yet I wanted everything else to go back the way it was.’
Ollie’s hand reaches out and touches my shoulder, and I feel numb. ‘What we had was special, and I will cherish it. You will always be my first love, Will.’
Heart beating, I want to tell him that he will always be mine, might still be mine. But he pulls up outside my hotel, and taps the wheel as if it is final.
‘Well, here we are.’
‘Here we are.’
Where, exactly?
‘You going to be all right getting to your room?’
‘I’m not that drunk, Ol.’
With shaking hands, I unbuckle my belt and turn to leave. The Mamma Mia soundtrack is still in full swing, and for once I want to burn it. ‘It was nice spending time with you.’
Ollie breathes in. ‘Yeah, you too, Will. Hey, don’t forget our double date soon.’
Right. The fake-dating thing. ‘Yeah. Let me know when you’re free.’
He drives off and I head back into the hotel. Nice spending time with you? How cold after everything we shared.
At reception, Lydia stands with her arms crossed, rolling her tongue over her teeth.
‘Who was that?’
‘That was Ollie.’
‘The man who is getting married.’
‘That’s right.’
Lydia shakes her head. ‘Homewrecker.’
‘He wanted my help. We just went wine tasting. You know, for wines for his wedding.’
‘To another man.’
‘Yes, I don’t need reminding.’
I press the button for the elevator, praying it arrives quickly. When it finally arrives, I dip into the lift and rest my back against the wall.
‘You know where I am if you do,’ Lydia says as the doors slide closed.