When they finished walking through the Glasshouse, they found shelter from the rain in the theater that played a short series of videos showing interviews with Chihuly, followed by anexample of his glassblowing in action. His art and glassworks were displayed all over the world.
The rain had eased to a light drizzle by the time they headed back to where Chase had parked the car at a lot close to Seattle Center.
“How would you feel about a wine tasting?” he asked. “Washington State wines are garnering a good reputation. A friend of mine owns several labels and invited us to a tasting.”
“I…sure.” Maisy wasn’t much of a drinker. If sampling wine meant she was able to spend more time with Chase, then all the better. She’d gladly consume castor oil if it meant they would be together.
“Great. I’ve arranged a dinner afterward, so there won’t be an issue with me driving under the influence.”
“All the better. That being the case, I’ll consider myself the designated drinker.”
Chase laughed and reached over to squeeze her hand.
Maisy assumed they were heading to a tasting room, as there were several in the Woodinville area. Instead, they arrived at a vineyard and were welcomed by a young woman, who escorted them into a private room.
“Mr. Owen sends his regrets that he’s unable to join you,” she said, as she pulled out the plush upholstered chair, indicating Maisy should take a seat.
“Yes, we spoke briefly before,” Chase said. “Thank him for me.”
“Of course.” She excused herself with the promise to return with their first tasting.
Maisy glanced around the elegantly appointed room. The dark wood walls added warmth and welcome, along with thestone fireplace. A gentle fire flickered there. Lit candles set in the middle of the thick oak table added to the ambience.
It didn’t take much wine for Maisy’s head to buzz. It was a good thing that each tasting was accompanied by a cheese that highlighted the quality of the wine. They sampled five varieties of wine, and Chase ordered several cases.
After the wine, they were invited to walk through the vineyard. The vintner met them and offered a tour of the facilities. Maisy had no idea how much science and chemistry went into the wine-making process. By the time they finished the tour, her head was swimming with far more than the effects of the alcohol.
“That was amazing,” she told the vintner. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
They returned to the tasting area, where dinner was prepared and ready to be served in the private dining room. Still full of wine and cheese, Maisy feared she wouldn’t do justice to the meal. She didn’t feel she could turn it away, and decided to at least make the effort. Chase had gone to a lot of trouble arranging this day, and she didn’t want to disappoint him.
“I hope you like salmon,” he said, as the plate was set before her.
“I do.”
“This is Copper River salmon, flown in this morning,” he told her, as he sampled his first taste.
“What a treat.” She wasn’t telling Sean. Copper River salmon was his all-time favorite. It was sold for only a few weeks each spring. Sean’s birthday was in May, and that was the one thing he asked for every year for his special dinner. The family hadn’t been able to afford the luxury since the death of their father.
As she knew it would be, the salmon was cooked to perfection with a teriyaki glaze, along with roasted new potatoes and fresh asparagus.
They chatted as they ate. “I can’t remember an afternoon I enjoyed more,” she said. “Everything was perfect.”
“I wanted it to be special.”
What Chase didn’t seem to realize was that she would have been content to do nothing more than take a stroll or attend a movie and share a bag of popcorn. Everything he’d planned was beyond any expectation and underlined everything she feared. Little would highlight their differences more. Her dates were few and far between, and the expenses were often shared.
“I want you to come to Chicago,” Chase said, as she was about to take another bite of salmon.
Maisy paused, the fork halfway to her mouth.
“Don’t look so shocked.”
“I…” She hardly knew how to tell him she couldn’t afford a ticket, let alone time away from the store. Uncle Fred relied on her.
“I want you to meet my father,” he elaborated.
