Love Decanted

By Emilie Ryan

Following a miscarriage at the hands of her abusive fiancé, Julie disregards the advice of her family and friends by inviting her new boyfriend, Peter, on a wine tasting trip to the vineyards of Southern France.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Mar 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9781098301583

Book preview

book.

CHAPTER ONE

Julie shook her head as she dropped her phone in her purse. This couldn’t be happening.

She bit her lip, not wanting to make a scene in front of the busy coffee shop terrace at the edge of Westmount.

If she cancelled her trip, she could potentially recoup some of the costs. She certainly had other things she could spend her money on, like purchasing a new summer wardrobe or buying a new phone.

If she decided to go, she could climb the Eiffel Tower to scratch it off her bucket list. She could also take in some art and get a much-needed break after what had been a hectic end to the school year.

The fragrant smell of neatly pruned boxwoods, one of her favourite scents, brought Julie back to her surroundings. She crossed the street and peered up at her parents’ condo on the top floor, hoping her father was home. At the same time, the phone call she had just received dominated her thoughts. She balked again at the fact her best friend had just bailed on their wine-tasting vacation to the vineyards of Southern France, a trip they had been planning for months.

After letting herself in, Julie leaned her umbrella against the wall and removed her red leather sandals. The sound of classical music, a staple in her parents’ home, filled the air. Today, Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons occupied the playlist.

Oh, there you are, said her mother, Gabriella, approaching from down the hall. I thought you’d be here a half-hour ago. Did you pick up everything like I asked?

Uh, hi, Mom. And, yes, I did.

Good. Put everything on the counter, then decant the wine if you don’t mind. Her mother pointed toward the granite kitchen island, on top of which sat a bouquet of white lilies. I’ve got my hands full, so you’ll need to set the dining room table before you start on the dessert.

Julie blinked. Her mother had only asked her to purchase the ingredients, not make the dark chocolate mousse and raspberry coulis. I have to be back home by three, so I can’t stay long.

Her mother shot her a disapproving look. Why not? What could be more important than helping out your parents?

Julie wondered how much to divulge about her botched travel plans, especially given her mother’s soapbox rant the week before. I’m having a friend over for dinner, and I still need to get some things ready.

A friend? Don’t tell me you’re seeing that married man again; what’s his name, Patrick? Married men are trouble. How many times do I need to tell you that?

The haughty tone irked Julie, as did the veiled directive. Whenever her mother spoke in that voice, she felt like a small child, not an accomplished twenty-nine-year-old woman. It’s Peter, and he’s separated.

It still boggles my mind that you left Richard. He was so good for you, a perfect catch.

Julie dug her nails into her palms as she fought to bury a mental image of her ex-fiancé. Why did her mother keep bringing him up?

She turned toward the entrance, not seeing her father’s well-worn brown leather Birkenstocks. Where’s Dad?

He’s out running some errands but was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago. Maybe you can give him a call to see what time he’ll be back.

Julie chuckled to herself. Her father jumped at any opportunity to leave the house, a way to escape further domestication, as he put it.

Can you look after Gaby tonight?

Julie’s eyebrows shot up.

It would really help your father and me out, dear. As much as I love her, I don’t want her running around, getting in the way, and knocking things over when our guests arrive. Besides, she adores spending time at your place.

Julie pursed her lips. Her younger brother, Chris, had texted earlier in the day to ask if she could take care of Gaby for the night, but given her dinner plans with Peter, she had declined. He must have called their mother afterward, something he tended to do whenever he didn’t get his way. I already told Chris I couldn’t do it, so—

Well, someone needs to look after your niece, so I’m asking you again. I’m going to be stuck here in the kitchen all afternoon, preparing everything on my own since you have to leave, which you never mentioned earlier.

The word martyr materialized in Julie’s mind as a familiar feeling of guilt bubbled up in the pit of her stomach. I’m sure Gaby will be more than happy to help you out.

Her mother stared back with unforgiving eyes. I don’t ask you for much, now do I? I’d appreciate it if you helped me out once in a while. Besides, I still haven’t packed for my trip.

What trip?

Your father and I are off to San Diego next week. I have a meeting with a potential partner, a big firm out west, and he’s decided to join me so he can lounge around on the beach. She rolled her eyes.

I thought you had agreed to take care of Marley while I’m away. Julie scrambled to think of who else could look after her cat, assuming she went on her trip.

I must’ve told Chris then. Anyway, now you know, so that’s where we’ll be in case you need to reach us. Your neighbour can look after him.

But you said you’d do it. And, so you know, my neighbour moved out three weeks ago. I haven’t met the new couple yet.

Her mother sighed. Why does everything have to be so complicated with you? You’re going to turn thirty, so it’s about time you figured things out.

Julie needed another reminder of her upcoming birthday about as much as she needed an emergency trip to the dentist. Blanking on an appropriate rebuttal, she peered over her shoulder at the sound of the front door opening, expecting to see her father carrying a half-dozen shopping bags. Instead, her heart warmed at the sight of Gaby, who ran toward her with a toothy smile.

Auntie Julie, Auntie Julie! Yay, you’re here!

Julie squatted down and opened her arms, drawing in her niece. Few things could rival how she felt when Gaby was around, and she did her utmost to savour the moment. Hello, Sweet Pea. We were just talking about you. She kissed her niece’s forehead.

Guess what Mommy gave me, Gaby said, her blue eyes bright.

Julie looked her up and down, noticing the pink barrettes in her curly blond hair. A new toothbrush?

Gaby burst out laughing. No, silly, not a toothbrush.

Hmm . . . A new car?

I’m not old enough to drive, Auntie Julie. I’m only five-and-a-half, you know.

The seriousness of Gaby’s tone made Julie smile. Of course, you are. I forgot . . . Is it something you’re wearing?

Yes, my rain boots! Gaby lifted her leg high in the air, nearly toppling over. They’re sooo awesome!

Julie chuckled at the red-and-white striped rubber boots, which resembled giant candy canes. They’re beautiful, just like you.

You can borrow them any time you want. You just have to ask.

Julie’s sister-in-law, Anika, stepped forward. Sweetie, come over here and take off your boots, so you don’t get Grandma’s floor all dirty.

Julie waved at Anika, who stood by the door, her light brown hair pulled back in a bun. She wore her nursing uniform under her rain jacket.

Thanks again, Gabriella, for watching Gaby. I wasn’t expecting to work this evening, but you have to take shifts whenever you can.

Julie’s mother approached the entranceway. Any time, dear. But, actually, Julie’s going to look after her tonight, if that’s all right with you.

Julie’s jaw dropped. Her mother had just thrown her under the—

Yay! I can’t wait to see Marley. He’s going to love my boots.

Oh . . . Anika said, staring at Julie then back at Gabriella. I thought you had . . . No matter. Thanks, Jules. I owe you one. I like your dress, by the way. Fuchsia really suits you. Did you lose some weight? You did, didn’t you?

Grateful someone had finally noticed, Julie nodded. She had been making a concerted effort to commute to work by bike and to cycle on weekends, either with a group of female friends or, more recently, with Peter. She had made the commitment after her GP’s warning about her health. Yeah, I did. It was doctor’s orders.

Well, you look great. She glanced at her watch. I better get going, but thanks again for all your help. Chris is playing at the Sax ’N Soul tonight on Mackay, so text me if anything comes up.

As Gaby hugged Anika goodbye, Julie mulled over her predicament. When her niece turned around, she said, Don’t bother taking off your boots, Sweet Pea. We’re going to leave now, too. She caught a glimpse of her mother, who folded her arms across her chest. Mom, everything’s done except the dessert, so you’re almost good to go. She turned back to Gaby. I have to pick up a few things on the way home, but we can stop for a brownie if you want.

Yay! Gaby exclaimed, jumping up and down.

***

Later that evening, Julie stood beside her niece in her second-floor condo in Le Plateau-Mont-Royal. As she took in the rich, savoury aroma emanating from the red wine reduction on her stovetop, her mouth began to water.

Careful, Sweet Pea, okay? Mix it slowly, so it doesn’t splatter.

Julie could tell, by virtue of Gaby’s tongue sticking out, her niece remained focused on the task at hand. At the same time, she couldn’t stop her own mind from reverting to her thwarted travel itinerary.

How much longer? Gaby asked.

It’s looking pretty good now, so let’s give it a try.

Julie offered Gaby a spoon before taking one for herself. She dipped it in the sauce, then blew on it before having a taste, with Gaby copying her every move. So, what do you think?

Gaby gave her a thumbs-up as Marley sauntered into the kitchen and meowed. Gaby bent down to stroke the orange tabby’s back. I think he wants a taste.

Julie rejoiced at the sight of Marley rubbing his head against her niece’s knee. He probably does, but if he eats now, he won’t be hungry for dinner.

Okey-dokey. Can I go draw with Marley?

Of course, you can. You know where everything is. As Gaby left the kitchen, Julie perused the recipe laying on her white quartz countertop. The heart-shaped stain on the page made her grin, a happy reminder of the dinner party she had hosted nine months earlier, her first social gathering after moving into her new condo. How things had changed since she had left Richard.

A cardinal perched on a branch outside her kitchen window caught her eye, and her thoughts drifted to Peter. Immediately, a lightness filled her chest. She appreciated he had embraced the idea of having Gaby join them for dinner, even if it meant they had to alter their plans on short notice. She also appreciated his offer to pick up a dessert for Gaby, a gesture that had earned him even more points in her book.

Stirring the contents of the saucepan, Julie wondered how he would react to her chosen menu. She had settled on veal scaloppini, a tribute to Peter’s Italian heritage, yet she knew she had taken a bit of a risk. But she felt confident in her choice of wine, a Merlot-dominated blend from Saint-Émilion, France, an offering that should, in theory, pair well with the meal.

Pulling out a jug of water from her fridge, she heard her phone ding with a message.

Sorry, Jules. I can’t go to France. At least not right now. I wish I could, but we can’t afford it. I hope you understand.

Julie sighed. Her sister-in-law had been her best hope for a last-minute travel companion, but now she had to rethink her options.

She peered toward the living room where Gaby lay on the floor, colouring with a set of washable markers. In typical fashion, Marley lay by her side, his front paws touching the oversized paper, something that didn’t seem to bother her niece one bit. As Gaby stroked Marley’s head, whispering something Julie failed to make out, she retrieved her phone and took a picture of the pair, already planning to add it to the collection of photos on the living room wall.

She took the opportunity to check for additional text messages, and not seeing any—especially from her mother—Julie released the tension in her shoulders. How could her mother be so insensitive after everything she had endured over the past year? It felt as though her mother didn’t listen to anything she said. Maybe her mother didn’t want to know, or worse yet, perhaps her mother didn’t care. Ever since Julie had followed in the family tradition and completed her education degree instead of pursuing interior design, she felt an underlying resentment toward her mother. Why her mother continued to criticize her remained a mystery.

Julie’s phone dinged again. She perused the screen and saw Peter’s name.

Running a little late, but should be there soon.

Have a little surprise for you and Gaby.

A short while later, Julie checked her look in the mirror one final time.For fun, she removed her hair clip and allowed her hair to fall down her back. The clip had created waves, which, she had to admit, didn’t look half bad, although she still crossed her fingers. With all the heat and humidity, she hoped the argan oil would keep the frizz at bay.

A distinctive knock at the door made her insides flutter. Coming, she called, wiping her hands on a dishcloth.

Through the peephole, Julie caught a glimpse of a bulging eyeball. Chuckling, she opened the door and came face-to-face with her grinning boyfriend. She admired his dark jeans and white, button-down shirt, both of which flattered his athletic build.

Hello, beautiful. Sorry I’m late. I went to the Jean-Talon Market, and I couldn’t decide what would be better: chocolate mousse or a lemon tart. They both spoke to me. In a lower voice, he added, And, to be honest, I got distracted thinking about you again.

She blushed. I’m sure whatever you picked will be great. Can I take anything?

Peter handed her a bouquet of white roses, as well as a single red rose. That’s for Gaby, by the way, unless you want it instead.

Julie smiled, then pressed her lips to his, a warmth radiating throughout her core.

When she scanned the living room, she caught her niece’s innocent gaze. Gaby, can you come over here? Peter has something for you.

Her niece put down her marker and approached the entranceway, with Marley following behind like a faithful puppy.

Hi, Gaby. I didn’t know what colour you liked, so I picked red to go with your new boots. Julie told me about them, and they sound really neat. I was going to wear mine tonight, but it’s not raining anymore.

Gaby stared back with wide eyes, seemingly tongue-tied.

Amused by her niece’s reaction, Julie gestured toward Peter. So, what do you say?

Um, thank you.

You’re welcome.

Julie continued to grin, happy the day had taken a turn for the better. Make yourself at home, Peter. I just need to finish up a few things in the kitchen.

As he walked by, she discretely cupped his behind. Although she knew she should take things slowly and not get ahead of herself, her inner desire ran rampant whenever they spent time together. Just thinking about him made her want to don her black lingerie ensemble and play out one of her fantasies.

He peered over his shoulder. You’re a bad influence, you know.

Pfff . . . You’re one to talk.

Can I help with anything?

Would you mind opening the wine and pouring it into the decanter? Everything should be on the table.

She watched him eye the objects.

This might be a dumb question, but how do you use your corkscrew? I’ve only ever seen them used in restaurants.

Gaby jumped up. Oooh, I know!

The sight of her niece approaching the table brought another smile to Julie’s face. That Gaby had already taken a shine to Peter could only be a good omen.

You know how to open a wine bottle? Peter asked.

I can’t actually do it, you know. I’m not old enough, but I’ve seen Auntie Julie do it lots of times. You open the little knife first, then you open the curly part.

She’s right. Julie placed her hand on the small of Peter’s back. It’s actually pretty easy. Here, let me show you. She unfolded the small serrated blade and cut around the foil seal, then removed the top. Holding the bottle at an angle, she pierced the cork, which squealed with each turn.

Peter squatted down to face Gaby. Did Auntie Julie do it right?

You’re silly. She always does it like that.

Pouring a sample into one of the glasses, Julie followed the wine-tasting steps her uncle had taught her many years back. After swirling the wine in her mouth, she broke the silence by exclaiming, Oh, yeah, this should be good.

She pecked Peter on the cheek before heading back to the kitchen, her thoughts turning to what they would do after her niece went to bed. Gaby, can you go get washed up? We’re going to eat in a few minutes.

Okey-dokey.

With Gaby in the washroom, Peter entered the kitchen and ran his hand through Julie’s hair. Mmm, you smell good.

The warmth of his breath made her body tingle. That’s a little distracting.

It was meant to be distracting.

Julie’s heart beat faster. Don’t forget there’s a little biped running around.

He kissed her neck again. You’ll just have to be quiet, then.

Auntie Julie said I could be a chef when I grow up, Gaby exclaimed, entering the kitchen.

Julie coughed as Peter said, I’m sure you’ll make a great one.

The comment made Gaby blush to the tips of her ears.

Julie plated their meals, adding some fresh parsley from the herb garden on her deck, then followed Peter to the dining table. Gaby had already taken her place beside Marley, who occupied his own seat.

The cat, true to form, tapped his paw on the table.

He does that when he wants food, Gaby said, her tone giddy.

Peter burst into laughter. That’s hilarious. It’s like he’s saying, ‘Hit me, bartender.’

You can only give him one piece. That’s all he’s allowed to have. That’s Auntie Julie’s rule.

Okay, one piece then. I promise.

Julie lifted the crystal decanter, a gift from her grandparents, and filled two wine glasses. Well . . . She held up her glass, waiting for Peter to do the same. Here’s to great food and great company.

To great food and company, Peter said with a wink.

And, here’s to Marley, Gaby added, holding up her plastic cup.

To Marley. Without breaking eye contact, Julie clinked Peter’s glass before tapping Gaby’s milk cup. As she took a sip, she closed her eyes. Mmm . . . This is going to go really well with the veal. On that note, dinner is served. Gaby, let me know if you like it. If not, I can make you something else.

To her delight, both Peter and Gaby dug straight into their meals.

Between mouthfuls, Peter shook his head. This is amazing, ladies, honestly. Especially the sauce. It’s at least as good as what my mom makes, but don’t tell her I said that because she’ll disown me—no joke.

By his tone, Julie could tell he meant it. It’ll be our little secret, then.

Deal. He raised his glass.

I won’t tell her, either, Gaby said, dead serious.

It’ll be a three-way secret, then. After everyone clinked glasses again, Julie swirled her wine and took another sip. I like the notes of dark cherry and leather, as well as the tart finish. And the veal seems to round it out nicely. She turned to Peter. I know you’re not really into wine, but what do you think about this one?

He ran his hand through his wavy black hair. It’s going down pretty well, and it tastes good with the sauce. I admit that it’s way better than what my dad and his buddies used to make in the basement.

Her lips curled up. Your dad made wine? My grandfather made wine, too.

Well, wine might be a bit of a flattering term for the stuff. It was made with grapes, and it had alcohol, but . . . Peter shrugged. All my parents’ friends seemed to make some form of wine because every time we went somewhere, there would always be some ‘house’ version on the table.

Julie chuckled, picturing the scene. She had considered becoming a winemaker after touring the Niagara and Prince Edward County wine regions with her uncle, but the idea had never come to fruition.

Once everyone had taken their last bite, Gaby ran off to play with Marley while Peter took a turn at the sink. Julie, sitting at the counter, imagined him washing dishes clad only in an apron, enjoying the saucy image of his behind and feeling increasingly aroused. His love of cycling certainly came with benefits, most notably, stamina.

An hour later, Julie turned off Gaby’s light for the final time. Her niece had requested that Peter read one last story, and he had seemed more than happy to acquiesce. Gaby had even commented that Peter was really nice, an opinion Marley apparently shared.

With Gaby looked after, Julie poured two shots of Limoncello and headed to her suede sofa, where she nestled into her seat and allowed her shoulders to relax. An Adele song played in the background, adding to her contented glow.

You must be getting excited about your trip, Peter said, pointing to a travel book on her coffee table. When are you leaving again?

The innocent question doused her like a bucket of ice water. Since he had arrived, Julie had all but forgotten about her altered plans. Actually, my best friend—you remember Aimee, don’t you—she called earlier to tell me she can’t come anymore.

Peter tilted his head to the side.

Apparently, her mother’s sick, and she needs to go back to England to take care of her. Her father’s in a home, and there’s no one else to look after things. Understandably, she wants to be there. She shook her head, part of her still in disbelief. Anyway, that was part of my excitement this afternoon. Not to mention a run-in with my mother, but that’s a whole other story.

That’s too bad. I mean, you’ve been looking forward to it for weeks. You’re not going to cancel it, are you?

She took a sip of her drink, enjoying the sweet lemon flavour. True, she had been looking forward to her trip ever since she had committed to going, wanting to visit some of the places on her wine-tour bucket list: like the Château Margaux and the Château d’Yquem. At the same