Free Sweeter Than Wine by Michaela August

the wine gently in her glass and breathing deeply. A tiny
frown marred the serenity of her expression.
    "Bill made this, yes?" Siegfried inquired, not needing to ask.
    "This was his last vintage," Alice answered. "He was so proud of it. I don't--that
is, do you smell...something odd?"
    "Too much hydrogen sulfide."
    "Ah," said Alice, as if that explained all, and went a long way toward repairing
the fault. She took a sip, and instantly grimaced. "I can't understand it!" she
exclaimed. "I remember when he bottled this; it was a little tannic then, but nothing
like..."
    Siegfried ran through the possibilities in his mind. "Which sort of fungicide are
you using?"
    "Bordeaux mixture."
    "So it wasn't for lack of copper on the grapes," Siegfried mused, half to
himself. "Did Bill change the brass piping?"
    "No," she said uncertainly.
    "Then he used too much sulfur while disinfecting the barrels, although I am
surprised that Signor Verdacchia overlooked it."
    Alice shook her head. "Bill insisted on doing everything his own way that year.
He tried to get Mr. Verdacchia to retire." Remoteness overtook her. "I'm so sorry. I
want you to enjoy your meal. Let me find something else." She stood up before he
could speak, and headed for the kitchen.
    Siegfried knew he ought to wait for her to return and say grace, but he could
not allow this magnificent food to grow cold. He served himself a portion of the
beefsteak and potatoes, then took a generous serving of the asparagus. He closed
his eyes in ecstasy as he chewed the first, tender bite of steak, its salty liqueur
banishing the foul taste of Bill's wine. The sourdough bread was fresh and crusty,
the butter smooth and sweet as a benediction, and the asparagus, although the
wrong color, was superbly tender.
    * * *
    Alice watched Siegfried from the shadows of the kitchen, noting the
determined set of his mouth, his dark blue eyes--so serious, not like Bill's eyes at
all, although Siegfried's hair was the same shade, gold as summer grass. She
wasn't sure what to make of him. He seemed very gentlemanly and certainly eager
to help her. But the afternoon's events had left her wary. Was he like some men
she had known, hard-working and industrious during the week, hard-drinking hell-
raisers on the weekend? Time would tell.
    In the meanwhile, she needed a minute--at least--to recover her composure
and allow a wave of disconcerting sympathy to ebb. Tati's fears for her grandson's
future had become horrifyingly real. He had been starving.
    She recollected herself, got fresh glasses, and opened a new bottle of
Cabernet from a different vintage. As Siegfried poured, she served herself a
modest portion of steak and potatoes, and then passed Siegfried the platter for a
second helping. He accepted it with a grateful smile.
    When he finished eating, he laid his cutlery across a polished plate and poured
them both another glass of wine. He savored it, then set the empty glass down.
"Thank you. That was the finest meal I have ever eaten."
    "You're welcome." She couldn't help adding a light rejoinder. "I'm glad you
enjoyed it. But wait until you've tasted Maria's cooking."
    "I am sure I will not enjoy it half as much. Your mother taught you well." His
face was rosy now from the effects of food and wine.
    Alice's heart began to pound heavily. Her chest became a reverberating drum,
and her temples throbbed with the force of her pulse. Had Tati told him after
all?
    "She must be very proud of you." Siegfried continued, busily pouring himself a
third glass, and indifferent to her fear. "More wine?"
    Alice released the fold of skirt she had been clenching. It was just an innocent
remark. She hastily changed the subject. "I hope you left room for dessert."
    "Dessert," he echoed. "With coffee? Port?" He sounded like a child offered his
choice of the presents under a Christmas tree.
    It was a good thing to know: if the subject of her mother came up again, his
attention could be easily diverted by food. She smiled