Free Life Is A Foreign Language by Rayne E. Golay

he suggested a visit to his clinic and shopping tomorrow.”
    “Good. I hope you accepted.”
    “I want to visit the clinic, but said no to the shopping.
    “Why? It could be fun.”
    “It’s too much. I can’t handle it.”
    “What’s too much? Can’t you handle that somebody’s kind to you?”
    Nina thought for a moment, sorting out her emotions. “He is very nice, but I feel fragile … so vulnerable. Right now I need to be on my own.”
    Sophie gave her a dubious look. “You know best, of course. A word of caution though—not every man is like André. As for Michael, keep your options open. He can be a real friend.” She smiled. “Now, did I hear you say something about wine?”
    Nina got a bottle of red wine, still resting in its wooden crate used for transportation. Slowly, with delicate movements not to disturb the liquid, she pulled out the bottle, slightly dusty with age.
    After uncorking it with care, she set the open bottle on the table. “Knowing you’re something of a wine expert I brought this especially for you. Leave it to breathe for a moment.” She sat next to Sophie. “How are your sons doing?”
    “Gregg and Bruce are both doing well. They keep insisting I move to New York to be with them. I miss them terribly, but I also treasure my life here.” She sighed. “Fortunately, it’s not far, so we visit often.”
    When she deemed the wine was ready to serve, Nina poured a little in a stem glass and handed it to Sophie who took it, holding it to the light to admire its warm burgundy color. Nina followed Sophie’s every move with intense interest. This was no ordinary wine, and Nina wanted to see her reaction.
    Sophie held the glass under her nose, breathing in the bouquet. Then she sampled the wine, swirling the beverage around in her mouth, eyes half closed. Nina saw her swallow, still keeping her mouth closed. “Hmm, great body.” She took another taste. “Velvety. This is excellent!” she said at length.
    “It should be—it’s one of the better vintages. I’m pleased it traveled well.” Nina filled her glass to one quarter. “Usually, a wine should be left to rest for at least a couple of weeks after transport.”
    Picking up the glass, Sophie gazed at Nina. “The wine interrupted what I wanted to say—that I understand your need to take it easy right now. But don’t isolate. You need to see people, take your mind off your problems. Navel-gazing isn’t a good road to healing.”
    Nina grinned. “You’re right. And I will see people, but right now I need time to myself.” She refilled Sophie’s glass. “I’ve given up my marriage, changed my place of residence and I’m separated from my children and granddaughters. I shouldn’t enumerate these things, but they’re important losses—and I need to grieve them all.”
    “Do you regret divorcing André?”
    “Heavens, no!” Nina rubbed her face with both hands. “Whether it’s the loss of a parent, a child, a job, grief is a healthy response. To grieve is to heal.” She shrugged. “It isn’t easy, but it’s that simple.”
    Sophie sipped her wine. “But you don’t have to grieve in total isolation. You can still see people, can’t you?”
    Nina smiled. “Certainly, and I will.”
    “As I said, give Michael a chance. He’s one of the nicest men I know. One in a million. He’s quite a catch for a woman looking for a mate.”
    Something in the way she said it made Nina prick up her ears. Instinct warned her these were murky waters, to tread carefully. And she wasn’t looking for a mate, the thought was ridiculous.
    Finishing her glass, Sophie glanced at her watch and stood. “Goodness me. It’s late. I have an early call in the morning.” She squeezed Nina’s shoulder. “I’m glad we talked. I worry that you’re being too hard on yourself.”
    Nina accompanied her outside. “Don’t worry. I’m doing all right.” “Isn’t that your phone ringing?” Sophie asked.
    Nina cocked her head to the