Page 93 of DeLucas After Dark

“Yes, ma’am.” I moved to the kitchen, where we finished cooking together.

It’d been a long time since we’d done this and I hoped that things were looking up for her, since she seemed to be in a really good mood.

What gives?

I wanted to ask but didn’t want to sour her mood by prodding. Instead, I enjoyed it. The questions could come later. For now, I’d bask in her glory with her and hope that more days like this were in her future. She didn’t need the sadness of my father’s death haunting her for another moment. She’d grieved long and hard. My mother deserved peace more than anybody. The reprieve was rightfully earned.

I said a silent thank you to the heavens for making everything align for this meet and greet. I had a feeling it’d go well, and I held onto it until Beni knocked on the door.

Showtime.

BENIAMINO

Wine. I stood inside the aisle with so many bottles of Pinot Noir bottles facing me. It was the perfect wine for pastas, but which brand to buy? I could go with one that I loved, but I didn’t want Mrs. Flowers to think that I was trying to show off. I wanted to impress her but not by getting something expensive and showy. She wasn’t that kind of woman, from what I understood. If she was anything like her daughter, she’d see right through that and view me differently. I couldn’t offend her palate by getting something cheap or common either.

“Hey, how are you?” A man walked up, looking over the selections similar to me.

Tall, dark skin, with a clean-shaven head. It was impossible to look at him and not smile back at him. Hazel eyes twinkled my way, and I felt drawn to his presence.

“I’m fine, trying to choose a pinot noir for dinner tonight.” I admitted.

“What’s the occasion?” He asked.

“I’m having dinner with my future mother-in-law. I’m meeting her for the first time, and I want to leave the right impression.” Stalling, I pick up the brand that I usually drink.

“Mind if I help?” He asked.

“Not at all.” He was older. Maybe he could offer me an opinion from a different point of view.

“What are you having for dinner?” He asked.

“Spaghetti.”

“Oooh, Italian. Can’t go wrong with pinot noir. There’s something special about a Riesling though. He walked around to the next aisle, and I followed. “I know of one that always did the trick for my wife. I would bring it home when she had friends over. The first time I did, they sent me back for more. It’s her favorite and worked like a charm to keep me out of trouble. They were always eating pasta with it. I promise you can’t go wrong.”

Looking at the bottle, he handed me. The script was elaborate with gold letters on a black label. The year was printed on the bottom, but it didn’t offer anything else. I don’t know about this.

“I know. I know … don’t ever disregard the underdog, though.”

The price surprised me. It wasn’t cheap at all, but not the most expensive bottle that I’ve ever purchased. If it tasted good, the price was right. The only thing that made me pause was the label wasn’t encouraging.

“Thirty years…” the man pointed to the bottle. “Never steered me wrong.”

Fuck it. “Thanks, man. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. Good luck tonight, man.”

“Thank you. I feel like I owe you. Anything I can help you with?” I asked.

“Yes, in fact, there is.” He spoke.

“Name it.”

“Have a good time tonight. Relax and let the evening take you where it will.”

It was an odd request, but I had nothing to lose by granting it.

“I will. Do you have plans tonight?” I asked as we walked toward the register.

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