Chapter Six Satoshi
Tasting today: tea-based sparkling alcoholic alternative.
This is not wine, nor is it like it. The key to enjoying an artisanal non-alcoholic alternative is not to dream of what you really wish you were drinking – it might be a pale substitute, but try to enjoy it on its own merits.
‘Yes, Okāsan, everything’s fine,’ I said in Japanese, flipping the page of the massive binder of MS theory notes that I had open on the bar.
‘Sorry I missed dinner yesterday. I had a cellar appraisal in the afternoon, then study group, and by the time we wrapped up, it was getting too late to come out to the vineyard.’
‘You work too hard, Sato,’ my mother said on the other end of the phone. ‘What is all this work for, if you never take a moment to enjoy your life?’
I resisted the urge to sigh. I had no problem telling my brother to butt out – even if he never listened – but my mother was another matter. ‘I’ll be there next Monday, I promise. How are things with you? Any guests at the B&B this week?’
Tsundoku was still empty by the time I hung up.
Although it usually picked up in the evenings, this wasn’t terribly unusual for a Tuesday afternoon, and while it wasn’t ideal from a business standpoint, I usually enjoyed it.
There was something peaceful about being in the bar when no one else was, sipping something while I sorted out some admin or studied.
On this particular Tuesday afternoon, though, my head was anywhere but in my theory notes. I’d been trying to shovel information about Barolo soil types into my mind for the better part of two days, and none of it had stuck.
Being in love with Fiona Fisher was many things. Some were rapturous. Most were torturous. For the last few days, it had been both – and on top of them, it had been a huge fucking distraction.
You did a great job, Satoshi, Carlton’s boss had told me on Friday. Your wine knowledge is impeccable. Your service skills are top-notch. But there were a few moments, especially as the night went on, when it felt like you weren’t really present.
Thank you, I’d replied. That’s great feedback. I’ll work on that.
I’d only been half-listening. I could still feel Fiona’s fingers, twined through mine, pressed above her head.
A good night’s sleep hadn’t helped. Frankly, a good night’s sleep hadn’t happened.
I’d mixed up more orders over the weekend than in the entire three years Tsundoku had been open.
I hadn’t been lying to Okāsan about being too busy to come to our regular Monday night family dinner, but I’d left out the part about sitting down to study and getting so distracted by the memory of Fiona smiling at me in the candlelight – flickering like that little flame of hope in my heart – that I didn’t realise I’d been staring into space for a full hour until Yquem jumped on me, demanding her dinner.
Outside the front window, it started to rain – a slow drift at first, but then gradually getting heavier. I glanced at the weather app on my phone. It was set to continue well into the night.
I grabbed my umbrella so I could retrieve my A-frame chalkboard from the footpath. People tended to stay home when it rained, which, tonight, was probably a good thing. The last thing I wanted was to fuck up something so badly it impacted Tsundoku’s pristine online reviews.
‘Satoshi!’
I blinked. ‘Hello, Lex!’ I held my umbrella out to shelter them from the rain. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’
‘You’re not closing, are you?’ Anxiety was written large in their eyes.
‘No, no. I’m just rescuing this—’ I hefted up the A-frame with my free hand ‘—before the rain washes it clean. Are you here by yourself?’
Lex shook their head. ‘Mum’s parked over there.’ They pointed down the road.
My heart had almost disintegrated at the notion that Fiona would rather sit in her car than come into Tsundoku when Lex added, ‘Rosie and Georgia are at indoor soccer training, and she’s calling their friend’s mum to confirm they’re going to their place for dinner.
She said she’ll be in in a minute. Do you have any new books? ’
‘Do I have any new books? It’s like you don’t know me at all.’ I only just managed to find an appropriately jovial tone as my heart reformed in my chest and started racing. ‘Come on in.’
I’d pointed Lex towards the queer YA books I’d planted in the shelves for them, listened to them talk for seven unbroken minutes about the latest one they’d read, and got them set up in a corner with a hot chocolate by the time Fiona finally came in, holding her jacket over her head.
‘Oh my goodness, it’s pouring!’ she said, peeling it off and causing me to feel momentarily faint at the sight of her exposed, damp, slightly flushed collarbone.
‘I’m so sorry, Satoshi, I don’t mean to drip all over your floor, but I forgot my umbrella, and—’
‘It’s fine, don’t worry!’ Did I always sound like this? Everything is fine, I’ll do anything for you, I’ll lie down on the ground so you can walk all over me if you’ll just let me touch you again. ‘Let me hang that up for you.’
I took her jacket. ‘The coat rack’s all yours today,’ I said with forced casualness. ‘You’re my only customers. The rain scared everyone else away.’
‘Everyone else is clearly more sensible than me.’ Fiona plucked at her damp shirt. ‘But I promised Lex they could come and look at the books – god, I’m so wet.’
She heard what she’d said before I did. It was only when colour flooded her cheeks that I realised the double entendre.
‘Are you?’ I hooked the tip of one finger under the elbow-length sleeve of her shirt and tugged at it, just a little.
Fiona’s breath caught in her throat.
It was difficult to resist the urge to grin. ‘I could help you out with that, if you want.’
Her eyes widened, darting towards Lex.
‘I’m sure I’ve got a spare shirt out the back,’ I clarified, in my most professional voice. ‘Do you want me to take you back there?’
If she said yes, I would have my hands on her before she could say a single word. I’d close my office door behind us and kiss her hard against it as I hiked her skirt up. Then I’d go to my knees, yank her underwear off, pull one of her legs over my shoulder, and—
‘That’s probably not a good idea.’ Her face had gone the colour of Beaujolais. ‘You have to… you know, look after things out here.’
She was, unfortunately, right. My evening staff weren’t due in for another hour, and no matter how fast I could make Fiona come, there really was no appropriate length of time to leave a twelve-year-old as the sole person in charge of a bar, even if it was completely empty.
‘Whatever you want,’ I said, trying to keep my voice light. ‘Drink?’
Fiona slid onto a barstool as I retreated behind the safety of the bar. ‘I shouldn’t. I’m driving.’
‘There’s always tea or coffee. Or I added a few new things to the artisanal non-alco list the other day. You could help me figure out how to talk about them.’
She eyeballed me. ‘How do you always make you doing something for me sound like I’m the one doing you a favour?’
‘Is that a yes?’
She held my gaze for a long moment before she nodded.
Relief, rich and potent as madeira, washed over me as I took some glasses down from the rack. ‘Hey Lex, want to taste test some drinks with me and your mum?’
‘Hmmm?’ They looked up from their spot in the window.
I repeated the question. Lex shook their head. ‘That’s okay. I’m reading.’ They took their noise-cancelling headphones out of their schoolbag and put them on.
‘Thank you,’ Fiona said.
‘For what?’ I took a bottle out of the fridge.
‘For always being so good with them.’ She nodded towards Lex. ‘And for the way you were with all the kids at the restaurant the other night. You made it so special for them.’
‘It was no trouble at all.’ I uncapped the bottle, which hissed gently as the pressure was released. ‘It was good practise.’
‘You think they’re going to bring a group of kids in for the Master Sommelier exam?’
‘They might.’ I poured a tasting measure into her glass and then mine. ‘You never know. The Court pride themselves on it being the hardest exam in the world. Surprise kids would kneecap a lot of people.’
‘Not you, though.’ Fiona accepted the glass I set in front of her. ‘The girls have started insisting that every beverage that comes out of the fridge gets presented to them. I had to do it with the milk this morning before they let me put it on their cereal.’
I had a sudden vision of it, piercing my brain in a way that was almost painful. Fiona holding the milk out, offering it to them solemnly. The girls’ giggles as she poured it.
Me coming up beside her and taking it from her. Please allow me to show you the correct technique. We have to use two hands, or we’ll spill it all over the floor.
‘—never should have taught them the word elegant,’ Fiona was saying. ‘I was hoping I could trick them into keeping relatively quiet in the restaurant, but it’s backfired. Now everything has to be elegant, and – Satoshi, did I lose you?’
‘Sorry.’ I blinked. ‘My head’s been all over the place for the last few days.’
There was a pause before she spoke again, her voice soft, almost shy. ‘I know the feeling.’
I glanced over at Lex. They were absorbed in their book, paying no attention to us, so I inched my hand across the bar until my right index finger was just brushing Fiona’s left pinky.
It was the tiniest, most plausibly deniable of touches, but judging by her swift intake of breath, I wasn’t the only one who could feel it everywhere.
‘Cheers.’ I held my glass up with my free hand.
‘Cheers,’ she replied.
We looked each other in the eye, the moment stretching far longer than the quick clink of our glasses. The flush that had receded from her face came back, the salmon pink of Provencal rosé.
‘We need to talk about this,’ she said.
I let my fingertip slide against the bed of her nail. ‘I know.’
She looked over at Lex for a moment before she spoke again. ‘I told Sadie. I kind of had to, after… you know.’
‘I do know.’