Curious Wine (5 page)

“Okay everybody,” Madge said. “We’re going to play some encounter games.”

“Oh for God’s sake, Madge,” Millie said. “That went out in the sixties.”

“The hell it did,” Madge retorted. “Maybe as a fad, yes.

The nudist groups, people like that, maybe. But it’s a common psychological tool now. All kinds of people form T groups. People who want a self-actualizing experience.

Fat people, child abusers —even compulsive gamblers.” Madge smiled with sardonic friendliness at Diana.

Liz said, “We came up here to have fun, not bare our souls.”

“We won’t get into anything like that at all. This is fun, a technique for being more open, seeing how other people see you. We have a good group here, a blend of people who know each other and some who don’t, to sort of validate the process.”

“Well, it sounds kind of interesting,” Millie said doubtfully.

“Exactly what do we do?” Chris asked, her eyes wide with anxiety.

“Play a series of little games. We’ll need to form into a circle first. I’ll explain things as we go along. Liz, where do you think everybody should sit?”

Diana exchanged an amused glance with Lane over this transparent manipulation of Liz.

But Liz scowled. “Do we really want to do this? Who wants to?”

“Sounds sort of interesting,” Millie said with a shrug.

“Okay by me.”

“I’ll try it for a while,” Chris said grudgingly.

“Okay with me,” Diana said.

“Me too,” Lane said.

“Let’s get something to drink first,” Liz said. “Loosen all of us up.”

Diana poured wine for herself and Lane, and when the women returned with their drinks Madge said, “Now let’s sit on the floor by the fire, in a cozy circle.”

“Millie, you sit beside me,” Liz ordered. “Lane on the other side of me—or maybe Diana. No, I think Lane, but Diana next to Lane. Then Madge. No, Chris. Then Madge.”

The women laughed and pushed at each other as they milled around following Liz’s conflicting instructions.

Liz bellowed, “Sit down, dammit!”

Madge said, as the group assembled in a loose circle before the fire, “We’ll use Liz as the top of our circle to get the partnerships straight. First, you shake hands with the person to the right and left of you.”

“These games better pick up damn fast,” Liz said. “God, is this dumb. Nothing personal,” she added to Lane, turning to her with hand outstretched.

Diana shook Chris’s dry, rough hand, and then turned to Lane. Lane’s slim cool hand took hers firmly.

“Hi,” Lane said with a grin. “ ‘I’m Nobody! Who are you?’”

Diana laughed delightedly. “ ‘Then there’s a pair of us?’”

“What’s all this nonsense?” Liz demanded, dark eyes alert, curious.

“Just something a reclusive lady named Emily said one time.” Lane smiled mischievously at Diana.

Madge said, “Come on, everybody. Now hold hands with the person to your right, and look into her eyes for a full minute without speaking. I’ll time you. Then somebody can time me.”

“At least I’ll have something pretty to look at,” Liz said, turning to Lane, taking her hands. “You’ll have to settle for my old sourpuss.”

“With pleasure,” Lane said easily.

Diana took Chris’s hands.

“Everybody ready? One minute. Go.”

Fingers fluttered in Diana’s hands. Pale blue eyes stared into hers with an uncertainty that grew with each passing second. Diana looked into Chris’s eyes with increasing sympathy, and smiled reassuringly. Chris smiled back, her eyes shy and softening perceptibly. Their gazes were warm, their hands gripping tightly, when Madge said, “Time.”

Wonderingly assessing the small miracle between herself and Chris, Diana watched Madge look into Millie’s eyes as Liz timed them. Lane, looking off into the fire, seemed bemused by her experience with Liz.

“Time,” Liz called; and Diana reached for Lane’s hands, warming them in hers.

“Begin,” said Madge.

First Diana saw gray-blue color, then growing awareness— then tenderness. Lane’s eyes widened, closed, slowly opened again. Diana gazed at her longing to surround the tenderness with warmth, wanting to hold it enclosed and protected, wishing she could hold her face in her hands.

Her hands tightened; she tried to convey her feeling with pressure from her fingers, certain she could not express it with only her eyes.

“Time,” called Madge; and Diana discovered that she and Lane had swayed toward each other. Diana loosened her grip; Lane continued to hold her hands for seconds longer.

Still absorbed in the emotion of her experience with Lane, Diana watched the slow softening of expression as Madge and Chris looked into each other’s eyes.

“That was wonderful,” Chris murmured as Liz called time. There were other murmurs of agreement.

“It shows how people don’t really look at each other,” Madge said. “Now we touch. Turn to the person on your right and close your eyes and touch her face with your hands, your fingers, any way you’d like to. For a minute. The two of you decide who touches first.”

Diana turned to Chris and suggested softly, “Why don’t you touch me first, Chris?”

“Begin,” Madge said; and Chris, eyes closed tightly, touched Diana’s face with gentle, tremulous fingers. At the end of the minute, Diana stroked the soft dry skin of Chris’s face; and afterward the two women smiled warmly.

Diana turned to Lane. She said from a wellspring of emotion, “I’d like to touch you first.”

“Begin,” Madge said.

Diana closed her eyes and reached to Lane. Warm hands took hers and led them. Diana traced the shape of Lane’s face, drawing fingertips across her forehead and slowly down over her cheekbones, pleased by tactile sensations of soft smooth warm sculpture. But her mind was flooded by images of Lane’s sleeping face and Lane’s eyes gazing into hers filled with helpless tenderness, and Diana cupped her face gently, fingertips caressing her temples, until Madge said, “Time.”

Then Lane’s slender fingers touched Diana’s face, moving for a moment into her hair, then very slowly down over her forehead, tracing her eyebrows; and then very gently over her eyelids, down her cheeks and lightly across Diana’s lips, fingertips resting in the corners. Diana sat unmoving, transfixed, overwhelmed by the tenderness of her touch and the still beauty of her face.

“Time.”

Lane’s eyes opened; they seemed gray and unfocused; and she blinked rapidly as if waking from sleep. Then she looked at Diana. Their eyes met for a single moment so intensely connecting that Diana felt it as a caress. She looked away, astonished by her feeling; and as she watched Millie stroke Madge’s face, she wondered if she could have imagined the moment.

“I can see why encounter was so popular,” Millie said afterward, squeezing Madge’s hands.

“It can be a peak experience,” Madge said, beaming at Millie. “Some of the people I met at my first encounter group went on to other groups, and I did too. Trying to recapture the feeling. Some people went to a lot of them. Like junkies for the experience.”

“I need another drink after all this closeness,” Liz said, rising stiffly to her feet. “I need to be well lubricated if I’m going to have these old bones on the floor.”

“How about more wine?” Lane asked Diana.

“I’ll come with you.”

“Don’t insulate yourselves with liquor,” Madge cautioned. “Just be relaxed. Too much booze can bring out negatives and distort what’s really trying to happen.”

Liz poured a generous quantity of bourbon over ice and returned to the living room. With an emotion she could not identify, Diana asked in a low tone, “What was it like looking at Liz?”

Lane refilled their wine glasses, her lips curving into a cold smile. “Two gunfighters in Dodge City at high noon.”

Diana chuckled. “I’d just let her shoot me.”

“Not me.” Lane’s tone was flat, hard.

Diana continued to glance at her when they returned to the circle by the fire, assimilating the steeliness she had discovered in Lane Christiansen. She could now visualize her in a courtroom: cool, precise, competent.

“What’s next, maestro?” Liz said, raising her glass.

Madge extinguished a half-smoked cigarette, lit another.

“A trust game. We prove that we’re capable and worthy of trust. This is a physical game, so let’s stand up and get together by size.”

Diana, an inch or two shorter than Lane, stood beside her. Liz promptly moved beside her sister. Millie took her place beside Madge.

Madge said, “You stand with your back to your partner, about three feet in front of her, and fall backwards. You trust her to catch you.”

“Oh come on,” Millie said, and went over to the coffee table to get her drink. “That’s as easy as pie, Madge.”

“You’ll be surprised,” Madge said. She inhaled deeply from her fresh cigarette. “It’s very difficult to do. It’s very hard for most people to trust other people.”

“That depends who it is,” Chris said. “I trust Liz.”

“Then why don’t you go first?”

“Me?” Chris looked at Madge with mild reproach. “Well, all right.” She took her place in front of Liz. Shifting her feet uneasily, she peered over her shoulder.

“No looking,” instructed Madge. “This is trust.”

“Okay, I’m ready now.” But she hesitated, feet shuffling nervously.

“Come on, Chris,” Liz coaxed. “If you can’t trust me, who can you trust?” She held out her arms.

“It’s very hard for most people to do this,” Madge said. “You’ll see when you try it.”

“I’m ready now.” Squeezing her eyes shut, Chris swayed backward, then caught herself.

“I’m right here for you, Chris. Right here.”

Her face stiff with fear, Chris fell backward and Liz caught her with a merry “Whoops!” as the women laughed and applauded.

“How was it?” Madge asked, stubbing out her cigarette.

She shook another out of her pack.

Smiling with relief, her voice tremulous, Chris said, “It was hard. It was kind of like jumping out of a hayloft when Liz and I were kids.”

“Your turn now, Liz,” Madge said. “Trust Chris.”

Liz took her place in front of Chris, planting her feet firmly. Her face and body rigid with tension, she fell into Chris’s arms.

“You do trust me, don’t you Liz?” Chris asked softly.

“I don’t mind telling you I was a little nervous,” Liz said. “Being heavier than you.” She touched a hand to her sister’s face. “Yes, I trust you, Chrissie.” She looked challengingly at Lane. “How about you next, hotshot? I bet it takes a lot to scare you.”

“This isn’t a test of courage,” Madge interjected firmly. “Only of trust.” She lit another cigarette; Diana thought she saw her hands tremble.

Lane stood in front of her. “Ready back there?”

“Ready,” Diana said, braced and waiting for her.

“Sure you even want to catch me?” Lane joked as she hesitated.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Diana teased.

“Sure you even want to try it, hotshot?” Liz taunted.

Diana saw Lane’s shoulders tense, her hands clench; then she fell back and Diana caught her easily. Smiling down at her, she held Lane’s slender body for a moment, the corduroy of her shirt warm and soft in her hands, then dropped her with a thump to the floor. “That’s for not trusting me.”

Lane lay on the floor laughing; the women laughed uproariously. Diana, smiling, held out her hands and helped Lane up.

Lane took her place behind Diana. “Now it’s my turn to catch you.” She added a mock-threatening chuckle. “And that’ll take real courage. Think you can trust me?”

“Yes,” Diana said with utter certainty, and let her body fall into Lane’s arms. She smiled up at her. “Remember, revenge is not nice.”

“You trusted me so much I almost wasn’t ready for you,”Lane said gently, helping her to her feet.

Millie fell trustingly into Madge’s arms, and Madge took her place in front of Millie. Taking deep drags from her cigarette, she made many attempts, teetering back and forth, her eyes closed, her thin body rigid. The women cajoled, teased, taunted, encouraged.

“I can’t do it,” she said finally. “I just can’t, goddammit. I can never do this one. I’ve tried and tried.”

“How about I stand behind you,” Liz said. “I’m big and strong enough to catch King Kong.”

“It isn’t that,” Madge said, sighing. “I just can’t do it. Let’s go on to something else.” She extinguished her cigarette in a smoldering mound of butts and ashes.

The group assembled again in a circle around the fire. Madge said, “What we’ll do now is decide which animal each of us represents.”

Liz snorted and picked up her bourbon. Millie looked bewildered.

“Think about it,” Madge said. “Each of us will remind you of some animal, if you really think about it. Let’s do me first. What animal do I make you think of?”

The women were quiet and reflective, scrutinizing Madge. Lane said slowly, “I think maybe a giraffe.” She continued as Liz laughed, “To me they seem always to be searching, to be curious about everything, always looking around to see new things.”

Madge nodded, her expression rueful. “One group I was in said giraffe too. The other said flamingo.”

“Flamingo is very good,” Liz said thoughtfully, studying Madge.

Madge fidgeted under Liz’s gaze. “Let’s do you next, Liz.”

“I think Liz is a bear,” Chris said. “Strong and selfsufficient. I know if anybody ever hurt her boys she’d go after them just like a bear with cubs.”

Liz sipped her bourbon, then said in a level tone, “I would kill. My boys are everything. Especially now.”

“Bear is good,” Lane said. “I think elephant, too. For most of the same reasons. Strength, dominance, the need to control a domain.”

“Why can’t someone choose an animal that doesn’t reflect on my weight?” Liz complained good-naturedly.

Madge said, “Lane, you seem to have natural insight for this. Let’s do Diana now.”

Prickling with self-consciousness, Diana looked at the floor as the women contemplated her.

“I think she’s a doe,” Chris said. “She has a sweetness and a gentleness to her.”

“Yes, but without the helplessness,” Madge said. “Maybe a deer instead of a doe.” “I think a cat,” Millie said in her soft shy voice. “That’s a sweet gentle animal.”

“Close, but not quite right,” Liz said. “I see Chris as a cat.”