Etienne handed them each a bottle of wine. “It’s always a fire with Grand-père. He insisted the
three of us meet. Sorry you had to come. These bottles have undergone six rackings over thirty-day intervals and still have a problem. Take a look.”
Dominic examined his. “You’re right. The wine has failed to clear.”
“As I indicated on the phone, it’s definitely nonspecific. I don’t think any bacterial contamination is at work. In my opinion it will probably clear, but it may take up to a year or so.”
“Unfortunately Grand-père doesn’t want to wait that long.” Raoul had checked his bottle. “He’s always in such a damn hurry. There’s one thing we can do right now.”
Dominic nodded. “Arrange for the wine to be moved. Store it in a cooler place for several weeks. All that’s required is a drop in temperature of ten degrees. If nothing changes, we’ll come up with plan B.”
“That’s the route I’d go.”
“Then we’re all in agreement.” Etienne gave the group instructions and they left. He walked back to Dominic and Raoul. “I’ll let the old man know what we decided as soon as I get home so he won’t have a fit. Sophie’s come down with a cold. I need to spend some time with her before bed. Thanks for coming. See you later.”
After he left, Dominic stared at his cousin. “Pretty soon you’ll be able to tell everyone about your son and you’ll be putting him to bed in your new house. Just think. When Alain grows up, he might become a wine expert like you.”
“He might hate the wine business.”
“Maybe he’ll become a pharmacist like his grandfather Gilbert.”
“True. I can promise you one thing. I’ll allow Alain to find his own way in life, whatever it is.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
Raoul nodded. “The divorce can’t come soon enough for me. How about we go to the Guinguet before we go home? That’s where I met Toinette and want a night to reminisce.”
Just the mention of it reminded Dominic of his conversation about red wine with Nathalie. Everything reminded him of her. He couldn’t deal with any more pain. “I don’t know, Raoul. I’m lousy company.”
“I’ll take your lousy company over anyone else’s. Come on. We could use some noise and music.” They walked out to the car in the cooler night air. The beginning of the harvest had brought Nathalie with it. Now the grapey fragrance meant the harvest was almost at an end and the fruit was being turned into wine. The thought of it being over with her was untenable. He wanted her so badly, he was in agony.
Soon they arrived at the bistro where many of the Fontesquieu employees hung out. Unfortunately, Nathalie dominated his thoughts. His cousin had the right idea to keep him occupied until he went to bed. But nothing could be done about the empty nights.
“Tonight calls for a celebration.” Raoul called the waiter over. He ordered some tapas and their best rosé wine. Dominic had never seen him so jubilant. After such a tragic marriage, he understood his cousin’s euphoria. But he hoped the family wouldn’t get wind of anything until after the divorce was final. One word about Alain could bring new pain to Sabine and make things uglier.
In a few minutes their waiter came to the table with their order, but he also placed a small goblet of white wine in front of both of them.
Raoul shook his head. “I didn’t order this.”
“It’s compliments of la blonde exquise. She’s over at the bar.”
They both turned around. Dominic almost went into cardiac arrest to see Nathalie walk toward them in a filmy violet dress, holding a similar goblet. His gaze collided with the jewel green of hers.
“Welcome to the Guinguet, messieurs. I thought you might enjoy the special Guinguet wine made by the famous Fontesquieu family. I’m buying this evening. It’s an acquired taste to be enjoyed for a very important occasion. You two fine-looking specimens appear to be able to handle its unique flavor.”
She leaned over to click each of their goblets with hers. “Here’s to a harvest with unexpected bumper crops. Our family historians will be forced to add two new names to our family trees. Salut.”
“Nathalie!” Dominic cried as her words sank in.
She smiled into his eyes. “Drink up, mon amour.”
He watched her put the goblet to her lips before he had the presence of mind to drink his. For the first time in his life, the sour wine tasted like ambrosia.
* * *
With a secret glance, Nathalie wordlessly acknowledged Raoul’s departure from the bistro. Then she slid into the chair he’d just vacated. After she fed Dominic a tapa, she ate one. Suddenly Dominic reached across the small round table for her hands, grasping them for dear life.
“What happened since the last time you claimed you couldn’t be with me?”