Elly In Bloom (18 page)

“Elly” he said, “It’s okay. We will only go as far as you are comfortable. We’ll just let things happen naturally, okay?”

Elly breathed a sigh of relief.

“Was that bothering you?” he asked teasingly.

“Yes. Yes it was. Also, WHERE ARE WE GOING?” Elly slapped his hand off her knee.

“No more touching until we are there.” Isaac laughed and turned up the music. “We’ll be there soon.”

Swaying in the blackness, Elly felt both anxious and excited. After what felt like an eternity, she felt the car screech to a stop. Isaac led her out a couple feet from the car and slowly removed her blindfold.

“Look around” he whispered, his mouth moving the tiny hairs on her ear.

Elly gasped. Somehow, they had left St. Louis and ended up in what seemed to be a New England Village. The car was parked on a ridge overlooking the town and a spectacular view. She grabbed Isaac’s hand and stood speechless. Blowing maple trees covered a picturesque valley lined with purple and yellow flowers. The center of town was bordered by steep river bluffs that cascaded down into rushing muddy water. She could hear tinkling water from a nearby stream, and just past the town, Elly could make out a large bridge gracefully spanning the Missouri River. To her right lay a sea of green vineyards. Lush vines snaked over endless staggered terrain that rose and faded into the horizon in neat tiny rows. Near each vineyard lay small wineries – stone buildings tucked into wooded corners and dirt roads. A gigantic bright red church that resembled a barn towered over the center of town – a bustling village with low laying brick buildings. It took her breath away.

“Where ARE we? This is incredible.”

Isaac pulled her into his arms. “Welcome to Hermann, Missouri, the hidden jewel of the Central Midwest. My parents use to visit the wineries here every year when I was growing up. I hope you’re ready to drink some wine and relax.”

Elly kissed his cheek softly. “This is incredible. I feel like I’m in a different world.” She gazed over the picturesque town. “I can see myself living here one day.”

Isaac grinned. “Good. And while I have you stunned, I have another card up my sleeve”

“You brought cannolis?” asked Elly hopefully.

Isaac laughed. “I can’t promise pastries, but I can promise dessert wines. I arranged a private winery tour for us at Red Cedar Winery, which is the oldest of all the wineries here.”

Elly felt herself sway with the succulent romance of it all.

“Are you ready to go?” Isaac asked. She leaned against him and took it all in: the smell of him, the landscape laid out in front of her and the feel of warm air on her face.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

“Lunch first?” he asked swinging her hand like a little child.

Elly grinned. “Always.”

After lunch at a questionable deli, Elly held tight to her stomach as Isaac wound his zippy car up the bluffs. It had not been Keith’s, not by a long shot. Looking at her little greasy sandwich, with too much mayo and not enough veggies, Elly had greatly missed Keith’s mastery of the bread and meat. She felt her stomach grumble with each minute, compressing more and more uncomfortably inside of her. Isaac, thankfully, had not noticed.

“Red Cedar Winery is the most awarded and famous of the Hermann Wineries. Their Dogwood Red label is all my parents drink. They fly out every year just to taste it fresh, and then ship home about twenty cases.” Isaac ran his fingers through his lush hair. “The taste of that wine reminds me of a good portion of my rebellious adolescence. I remember laying on the couch, drunk out of my mind with a glass of Dogwood Red lying next to me, with my girlfriend playing guitar….good times, those memories.”

Elly nodded, thinking that that sounded like the worst time ever. Her memories of her teenage years were very different. Painfully shy, chunky and a lover of books, Elly didn’t exactly fit in with the popular kids. She did fit into lockers, however, which was something she had learned her junior year. Elly was pretty sure that Isaac would have never noticed her in high school. She laced her fingers through his, resting lightly on the gear shift. She was so lucky to be here, here with him, and she pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. The moment was sweet, but interrupted by a loud stomach grumble.

“What was that??” Isaac cried, laughing.

“It was my stomach! I swear!!”

Three more stomach eruptions later, with Isaac in tears and Elly barreling down against the seat, the little Black Honda parked in a small stony alcove in front of the winery. The main building for Red Cedar Winery was an old vermillion brick Colonial building with large navy shutters. A small balcony ringed with ivy and white flowers hung over the petite red door. Hoping to find a readily available bathroom, Elly pulled the door open and was greeted immediately by two glasses of wine, held by a kind looking gentleman in a flannel shirt.

“Welcome to Red Cedar Winery!” he said cheerily.

Elly accepted the wine with a pained smile. “I love this place already,” she whispered to Isaac.

He downed his glass in a gulp. “Ahhh, childhood,” he sighed.

Elly sipped hers slowly, trying to not upset her already turbulent stomach, which rumbled with each step. As dozens of elderly people filtered in, the tour began. Holding Isaac’s hand tightly, she followed the tour guide, a friendly, 60-something year man who reminded Elly of a hippie Santa Claus.

“Welcome to Red Cedar!” he declared. “Our winery celebrates 142 years of wine-making heritage. Red Cedar combines old world tradition with the newest wine-making technology in the world. This particular winery is owned by the Patton Family and has been passed down through seven generations.”

“Awesome,” Isaac mused.

Elly rolled her eyes. The tour guide led them out the broad doors and down a steep path that led to a fabulous garden canopy. The view was magnificent, with tiny café tables overlooking the vineyards. White haired couples leisurely sipped wine on the balcony as waiters strolled past wearing white gloves.

“This is our pavilion,” said the guide, waving his arm like a pageant contestant. “You can enjoy a glass of wine here before we walk down to the vineyards. I would start the tour out with our infamous Dogwood Red, or maybe our Bitternut Rose…”

They continued down the petunia-lined path, Isaac walking ahead of her, talking wine with some local aficionados. Elly lingered behind, taking it slow and leaning on the railing, feeling her stomach clench with each step.
Please don’t explode,
she pleaded with herself.
No one wants to kiss a woman who explodes.
Her stomach let out a load moan. Isaac turned around, looking embarrassed.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

He called me sweetheart!
she thought joyfully, before her stomach clenched again.

“Not…great,” she said.

Isaac pulled her aside. “Do you want to go back?” he asked.

“No, no. This is wonderful. I really want to finish the tour. Plus, I really need a glass of wine.”

“Okay. We could do this another day…we could go back to the hotel… get more comfortable…” his voice lifted suggestively.

Elly felt her stomach tighten and press down. “Er, I need a bathroom.”

Isaac looked grossed out at the thought.
Yes, I have to use a bathroom occasionally
, she thought,
try not to be shocked
. Isaac waved his hand at the tour guide.

“Um, excuse me, my, um,” there was a delicate pause, “My friend needs to use the bathroom.” The crowd’s eyes turned upon Elly.

“Thanks for saying that out loud”, she murmured softly. Isaac winked at her. The guide strolled up to Elly.

“Okay ma’am. Listen to me. You are going to head back up to the main building. Take a right just outside the back door. Then you are going to head to the bottom level via the elevator. Take a left at the stained glass windows, past the kettles and around the back. The closest restroom is there.”

Elly nodded frantically. Isaac pulled her close.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked nervously. Elly pondered the consequences of that decision.

“No, no. I’m fine.”

Isaac looked visibly relieved. Elly’s stomach rumbled. She quickly hurried away from the group.

Okay
, she said to herself, walking quickly up to the main building, keep it together. Huffing, she pulled herself up the hill and through the backdoor of the colonial house. She looked around. She was in a long dark hallway, with low walls in grey stone and old pictures in brass frames. At the end was an elevator. Elly pushed the button repeatedly and hummed to calm herself.
Please let me make it to the bathroom, please let me make it…CURSE that stupid sandwich
! The doors open and Elly launched herself inside. The elevator hummed slowly downwards. The doors opened and Elly broke out in a full run towards the bathroom. She found it quickly and there was no one inside, much to her relief.

Ten minutes later, Elly emerged, feeling much better. She walked down the corridor in front of giant silver fermentation tanks, distracted by an intense search for gum in her purse. Sighing happily, her stomach a placid lake and her mind on Isaac, she turned the corner towards the elevator. She walked past the stained glass windows, each etched with blues and greens, depicting wines pouring out of bountiful urns. They were luminous, and Elly ran her fingers over the raised iron, the windows bathing her in light. She took a deep breath in.

Here I am,
she told herself
, on vacation with a gorgeous man who is crazy about me. It’s amazing where life can go…I never dreamed I would be here.
She sighed happily and followed the arched hallway. Elly walked for a couple of minutes before she realized that she had missed the elevator. She turned around. There were hallways on either side of her. She started to walk back the way she came. The hallway continued, but no elevator. She ran back a couple of steps. More hallway. Elly tried to quell her rising anxiety.
Okay, I came down the hall, past the stained glass, turned the corner at the elevator
… she traced her steps. It didn’t help that she was walking quickly, slightly panicked.

She ended up in a giant underground cellar, flanked by arching stone walls the held the foundation of the house. Red oxidized brick lined the room, which was filled with tons of wine barrels. The air was damp and musty, tinged with the sweet smell of berries, licorice and mushrooms. Dim yellow lighting hung from the corners. It was both romantic and intensely scary, and it reminded her of catacombs. Elly started hyperventilating and leaned against the barrels.
Maybe if I just head to the end of the corridor, she thought, I’ll find an exit.
She didn’t. She also didn’t find an exit in between the barrels, or near the doors. One long wine filled corridor led to another and another. She couldn’t find her way back to the entrance. Again and again she circled back, weaving her way in between endless barrels.

Her spirits faded as her panic took over. Her thoughts bordered on absurd. This was it. She was hopelessly lost in the basement of a winery. It had been about an hour since she had left the tour. Search parties had been called off. Isaac had found another woman to sweep off her feet. Snarky Teenager had taken over Posies and turned it into a racy underwear store. It was over. Her life would end, here, in this wine cellar of death. Condensation dripped on her face. The stone walls were closing in on her, and the room seemed to be getting darker by the minute. She was very cold. Elly slumped behind a giant barrel at the very end of the row. She grabbed on to the tap with desperation. If she was going to go out like this, she might as well be very drunk. She leaned over and positioned her mouth under the spout while at the same time her lips formed the words of familiar prayers.

Suddenly, she was looking at a brown pair of orthopedic shoes.

“And here, ladies and gentleman, is our wine cellar, which was made in 1847. We made the secret entrance during the Prohibition era….”

The tour guide stopped shortly upon seeing her. Elly quickly sat up and wiped the mascara from her eyes. Three old ladies stood gaping in front of a hidden door in the brick.

“Was she drinking straight from the spout?” one of them cried. “That can’t be sanitary!”

The kindly tour guide smiled down at her.

“Young lady, how did you get down here?”

Isaac’s gorgeous face peeked around an alarmed woman’s appliqué sweater.

“Um - Elly?” he asked nervously.

“Well, that was interesting,” Isaac joked later as he steered the car past endless fences of grapes. “How was the wine cellar? I bet all the barrels looking the same got to you?” He chuckled. “Poor Elly. Were you really that upset? Not that I blame you. I would have probably tapped in myself - their wine is so delicious. Of course, I might have waited to get a glass first….”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Elly snapped.

He ran his fingers through her hair. “It’s their fault for putting the bathroom in the dungeon. I was just glad to find you. Otherwise I would have had to take home the lady with the snowman sweater on.”

“Hmm…that was a nice sweater. I would have understood.”

Isaac looked at her, his brown bedroom eyes bearing into her. “Let’s go find our hotel.”