“Never mind,” I said, picking it up. I was determined not to make another comment, though I was tempted to buy her a brand-new kitchen. Wait a second, therewassomething I could do. “I can fix it for you later if you have the right tools.”
“I do,” she explained. “I bought everything last week. I just didn’t get to do it, as I said. You know how to use tools?”
I nodded. “Yes, I do. After my parents divorced, my brothers and I fought for the title of ‘man of the house.’ There’s not much I can’t do.”
“Oh! Okay. I’ll file that here,” she said, tapping her temple. “But let’s leave that for later. Wine first.”
I left the cabinet door on the kitchen counter and took out theglasses as she finished eating her bowl. I uncorked all of the bottles before bringing more glasses. “We’re going to taste each one in a different glass.”
“That’s smart.”
I poured two fingers of each one. It was enough to taste but not so much that we’d get drunk. “We also need water.”
“I’ll go get it.” She dashed to the counter, filled two glasses from her filter, and put them on the table. “All right, which one are we tasting first?”
“The chardonnay because it’s the easiest one.”
“Mm-hmm.” She nodded. “And a crowd pleaser.”
“You do know your wines.”
“We did so many tastings for Marshall’s birthday party last year—” She froze with a look on her face I couldn’t describe. “Never mind.”
“You can talk about him if you want to. You guys were together for six years, so I’m sure it’s hard not to.”
“Actually, it’s the last thing I want to even think about.”
I wiggled my eyebrows. “I’m here to provide distraction on demand, as always.”
“You’re very generous, aren’t you?” She wiggled her eyebrows right back, taking me by surprise. I never knew when she’d have a funny reply or when she’d get shy on me. I hadn’t yet learned where that fine line was. But I was happy to do whatever it took to discover it.
“This is a good chardonnay,” she said.
“I agree. Sometimes they can be too watery.”
“Exactly! But this one’s good.” She took a sip of water, and we moved on to the next one.
“Is this a sauvignon blanc?” She pointed at the second set of glasses. Then she glanced at the bottle. “Oh, it’s a pinot grigio. Nice.”
We both took a sip. “All right, this wins hands down over the chardonnay.”
“I thought you might say that.” I didn’t tell her what my favorite was because I wanted her to be as unbiased as possible.
She took another sip. “Hmm, I might ask for a refill of this one later, but not before I try the last one.”
We both took a swig of water, and then we moved on to the Riesling. Her eyes widened from the second she smelled it. Then she took a sip and immediately closed her eyes, humming. “Tell me the truth. This is your favorite, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I said.
She opened her eyes and sighed. “You should have led with that. I think this is one of the best Rieslings I’ve ever had. I mean, the pinot grigio is very good as well, but if you want to fast-track one, I’d suggest this.”
“Yes, exactly. That’s my opinion too.”
“May I have some more?”
I stood up, pouring it in her glass.
“Won’t you have more?” she asked.
