Page 5 of The Neighborhood Witch

“How dare you?” she replied with a sly smile. “There is more to wine than just a label.”

“It’s all grapes. What difference does it make?”

“Difference? It’s all about the soil and texture and the notes and the aging,” Elizabeth answered. “Not to mention the food pairings.”

Hugo grabbed the front of the cart and leaned closer toward her on the other side. A smirk on his face. “You just smash the grapes and then poof, like magic, you have wine. It’s not as extensive as bourbon making. Now there’s a real drink.”

Elizabeth leaned closer to Hugo. “If you want me to be Mrs. Elizabeth Dodds, well then, you better get used to lots and lots of wine.” She raised her left hand and presented her new engagement ring.

Hugo grabbed halfway up the cart and bent over to look closer at the ring. The metal rim of the cart dug into his stomach, but he didn’t care. He leaned closer. His eyes lingered on the diamond ring. “Well, I guess we had a good run,” Hugo responded with a smile. “They’ll ask, ‘Why did you break up?’ Well, because bourbon will always be superior to wine in every way.”

Elizabeth frowned and pouted her lips. She gave the cart a little push, jabbing Hugo in the stomach.

“Ow!” Hugo responded with a shocked expression.

“Fine.” She smiled. “But I’m keeping the ring, though.”

“Okay, okay. I give.” Hugo went around the cart to hug her. “Wine is better than bourbon. However, I only say this under protest because my life is being threatened by a shopping cart.”

Elizabeth gazed up at Hugo and said, “I knew you’d see it my way.”

Hugo smiled and leaned in to kiss her.

“Excuse me,”someone said behind Hugo, breaking his trance. “I need to grab that.” A woman grabbed a bottle of wine off the shelf behind him.

“Pardon me,” Hugo said as he moved the cart out of the way.

It took him a moment to regain his bearings. The world spun around him. His breath was shallow and hurried. He clutched the cart handle and closed his eyes. His knuckles turned white as his grip tightened. A rush of emotions flooded Hugo. He paused and took deep breaths until his breathing slowed. He opened his eyes. The menagerie of wine bottles slowly came back into focus.

Hugo stood in front of the red wine blends section. One brand caught his attention. The Raskins give the brand prominent placement, taking over an entire section of the shelves. Its label was a diagonal black and gray, checkerboard pattern. Written across the top in elegant, white, cursive lettering was the nameRed-Hearted Queen.

A gold, multi-pointed crown sat in the center of the label, surrounded by the four playing card suits. There was a heart on top. The club pointed away on its side to the right. An upside-down spade was on the bottom, and a diamond turned sideways to the left. A white, curved edge rectangle, which invoked the image of a playingcard, framed the four suits. Positioned in offsetting corners to further play into this aesthetic, were two red, capitalizedQs, with the bottom one flipped upside down.

“It’s new,” a familiar voice said from behind him. “I haven’t tried it myself, but I’ve heard it’s highly recommended. They gave us a great deal if we featured it.”

Hugo turned around to see Carol Raskin standing behind him, waiting for their customary greeting hug.

“I’ll give it a try.” Hugo placed it in the cart beside the other bottles, then hugged Carol.

“How are you doing?” Carol asked. There were only two people in the world allowed to ask Hugo that question, and both of them had the last name of Raskin.

“Today’s a not so good day,” Hugo replied.

“You need to stop torturing yourself,” she said.

“I know.”

“Let me guess, the same walking path?”

“Yeah.” Hugo averted his eyes as if he’d done something wrong.

Carol lightly guided his chin back to face her and pleaded, “Take a different route tomorrow. For me. Please.”

“Sure. For you.” Hugo forced a smile.

“Thank you,” she said as tears welled in her eyes. “Come on, go say hello to Oliver.”

Carol led Hugo to the deli counter where Oliver was holding court. He struck up conversations with people as they waited for their deli orders. A few workers hurried to prepare the orders as fast as possible.

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