157 - Little Ole Wine Drinker Me

"So, there you have it, Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio; was the first Italian Pinot Grigio in the world and is Italy's signature white wine over the world."

 

Jon's, over his shoulder, I told you, so grin had Ariana fledging a smile as Henry Doppenger, the cellars senior oenologist, ended his speech to complete their tour. Four long boring hours about soils, fermentation, vinification grapes without skins were all she could take on a normal day, but today wasn't normal. This morning when she woke up, she was not feeling well. She had a restless night of sleep, between trips to the bathroom, the annoying dull ache in her back and the fact she couldn't find a comfortable position to sleep in anymore. Causing her to have second doubts that maybe this trip wasn't such a good thing after all. They had been doing a lot of walking the last few days with the museums and the food tour. She didn't know if she could handle another day of walking. Around a winery, no less. 

 

Belch! Yeah, she drank it once in a while, but since getting to Italy, the smell of it had made her stomach curl. But how could she cancel? Today of all days. While planning this little getaway, she insisted Jeanie find at least one thing to revolve around wine. And she had an entire day at the Santa Margherita vineyards. A tour that took them through not only how they made the wine, but its history in Italy and how it came to the States. The look on Jon's face when she told him what they were doing for the day hadn't helped. Like a kid in a candy store. How could she cancel on him? She couldn't. She'd just have to suck it up and sacrifice her aching feet and lower back pain. 

 

Now that the most important part was over, she paced back and forth in the back of the room, rubbing her back as Jon posed for a few photos with a group of women who recognized him. 

 

"Hey, you, okay?" Jon asked as he approached her. 

 

"Yeah, just tired and my butt started hurting. Those chairs were uncomfortable."

 

"We can skip the wine and cheese tasting."

 

"No. You're enjoying this."

 

"Agreed, but I had enough tasting at lunch. Let's go." 

 

"Are you sure?"

 

He didn't answer. He just took her hand in his as he led them out of the wine cellar and to the waiting limo. Not something they usually did, but with an hour's ride back, Jon was happy they did. When she was comfortably seated in the backseat, he closed her door, said something to their driver, rounded the car to his side and climbed in. 

 

"Thank yooo..." he started to say but stopped when he looked over at her. She was fast asleep. Her head slightly askew and resting against the window with her legs stretched out in front of her. 

 

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

 

Shreds of cotton and leather scattered her living room floor along with the morning’s newspaper and the remaining pillows from the couch. And that was just today's casualties. Every day this week it had been something else, a pair of her Jimmy Choos, Stephanie's glasses, Jesse's practice bag and the umpteen toys she had bought to distract the beast from destroying her home. Why, oh why, did she agree to this? The minute Jon got home, he would not hear the end of this. 

 

She filled the crystal stemmed glass to the top with the chilled clear liquid. It was five o'clock somewhere. Right? Checking her watch, she let out an annoyed huff. It was in Italy. "Romeo Jon! You get down here this instant.”

 

“Mrs. Bongiovi, would you like me to clean this up for you?” Gertrude peered her head out of the kitchen.

 

“Absolutely not, Gertrude. Romeo can do it.” Dorothea walked to the foot of the steps. “Romeo. Don’t make me have to count!”

 

The young boy and his friend appeared at the top of the step. “Whaddya want, ma, I’m talkin’ to dad.”

 

“Perfect.” she mumbled and motioned for him to bring her the phone.

 

“Hey, Dad. Hold on, Mom wants to talk to you.” Romeo bounced down the steps and handed his mother the phone, then hop over the couch and turned on the television.

 

“Oh, no you don’t.” Dorothea pulled the remote from his hand. “See this. Clean it up now. And take that mutt and put him in the laundry room.” Romeo scowled up at her. “NOW!” She pointed down the hall.

 

Taking her glass of wine, she stepped out onto the patio and closed the door behind her. She didn’t need her son hearing her giving his father the riot act about this dog. “Hope you’re enjoying yourself, Jon?”

 

“We are. We are on our way back from touring the Santa Margherita Vineyards. Ariana has fallen asleep, so….”

 

“Thrilling.” her tone was less than that. “Listen, when are you coming home? I need this dog outta here!” Quick and to the point.

 

“Not for a cupula of days. Why? What’s up?”

 

“He’s destroying my house and I’ve had enough?”

 

“C’mon, Dot. What could he be doing that’s so bad?”

 

“Where do you want me to start? My shoes, Steph’s glasses, furniture. Not to mention he plays with his food and it’s everywhere.” She swallowed a mouthful of wine. “He needs to go.”

 

“Why are you letting him do all that?” He wasn’t being sarcastic. It was a simple question.

 

“Are you seriously blaming me?”

 

“No, I’m not. He doesn’t do that at my house.”

 

“Jon, I will not argue with you. Can you call your mother, please?”

 

“Fine. I'll call as soon as I hang up. But you will need to explain to Romey why she's coming to get him.”

 

“Today, Jon. I want him gone today.”

 

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

 

“Who was that?” Ariana pushed herself up in the seat.

 

“Mom.”

 

“Your mother? Everything okay?”

 

“Yeah. Dorothea wants her to come pick up Meatball.”

 

“But we’ll be home in a few days?”

 

“I know. That’s what I told her.” he brushed a piece of hair out of her face. “I don’t want to talk about it. Did you have a nice nap? You were lights out before I even got in the car.”

 

“Really? I must have been tired.”

 

“All that wine talk bored you?”

 

“You can say that. Wow and we are home already.”

 

“Yup. I called ahead to Carmela. Dinner should be ready, too. Ya hungry?”

 

“Eh. Not really.”

 

“Crash, you sure you’re feeling okay? You seem off a little today.”

 

“I’m just exhausted.”

 

“Do you want to take the food to go?”

 

“Nope. I love listening to Carmela’s stories.” She placed her hand on the door handle. “Let’s go eat.”

 

Ariana didn’t wait for the driver to open her door or for Jon to come around the car. She opened the door herself and stepped out of the car. As her feet hit the curb, she felt the sharp twinge across her abdomen. She had felt similar twinges before, early in her pregnancy. The doctors had informed her they were Braxton Hicks, but this one was slightly stronger. Taking a deep breath in, she held it for a moment, then let it out.

 

What’s the matter?” Jon asked as he stepped in front of her.

 

“Just a cramp from sitting too long.”  

 

Grabbing hold of his arm for extra support, she led them across the street and into the restaurant. More crowded than normal, they made their way over to their usual table, which was already set with a wineglass for Jon and a bottle of Pellegrino already chilling for her. Ever the gentleman, Jon let go of her hand, so that he could pull out her chair.

 

“Ooooh.” Ariana blew out as she sat down.

 

“Another cramp?” Jon asked as he took his seat across from her.

 

“Yeah.” She rubbed where her thigh met her pelvis. “It’s probably just from all the walking we’ve been to doing.” She poured herself a glass of water and gulped it down in one sip. “Maybe this body isn’t fit for a trip like this anymore.”

 

“Are you sure they’re just cramps and nothing more?”

 

“I’m positive. We’ve been sitting in that car for over an hour, and you said it yourself, I was out before we even left. That’s a long time to have been in the same position.”

 

“S’alright. We’ll eat quick and get you home and in bed. Then I’ll give you one of my specialty massages.”

 

“With or without the zabaglione?” 

 

They were still laughing when Carmela arrived at the table carrying two plates. Placing Jon down first, then turning to give Ariana hers. Setting the dish down quickly, they both watched as her motherly instinct took over and she began feeling Ariana’s forehead. First the back of her hand, then her lips. Kneeling in front of her, she placed both hands on either side of her belly and left them there for a few seconds before moving them around. Jon tried to ask her what she was doing, but she just held up a finger to hush him. After what seemed like minutes, Carmela rose and disappeared into the kitchen, rambling something about a bambina.