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"Why? Because I don't display my entire emotional world on my face?"
"There is a universe of feeling?"
"I don't like it, but they exist nevertheless."
"Interesting. So far, I've only seen you grouchy. Or scowling. Like you're always in a bad mood. Even when you laugh once in a while, it doesn't sound like you're really having fun."
Amedea was so wonderfully talented at ringing you out verbally.
"I haven't had that much to laugh about in the last few years. Possibly I've just forgotten how to do it."
She snorted and averted her eyes. "I was going to be persistent and make you suffer a little. But that damn awkward charm… I guess you'd even convince the Queen of England to do business with you."
"I could try if you get me her number," I replied, an amused undertone in my voice.
She ignored it. "So tonight, the vineyards, right?"
"If you want to."
"I'm interested, at least. It adds a new aspect to your image that I'm not sure how I feel about yet."
"What kind of aspect?"
"You seem to like alcohol."
"The expensive homegrown kind, yeah. It's not like I have a drinking problem."
"Do you have experience with it? With the cultivation and processing?"
I wondered where these questions came from. "The first year I went through the whole procedure, so I knew what kind of work it was and what was going on. After that, though, I didn't."
"Well then, I'm curious to see what you're going to show me tonight." With these words, Amedea rose, put her empty plate in the sink, and then left the room, leaving me alone.
It was evident she was teaching me a lesson. Namely, how it felt to be simply left standing after a conversation, as I had almost always done with her recently.
This woman had some nerve! Usually, nobody dared to show me my misbehavior so clearly, apart from my brothers and sisters. Amedea did not seem interested in what consequences this entailed.
* * *
"Why didn't you mention that we'd have to walk up the mountain?"
I turned to Amedea without pausing, a broad grin on my lips. "I thought you were aware."
She stared darkly at me, blew a strand of her hair out of her face, and put her hands on her hips. Her condition couldn't possibly be so bad that she couldn't even make it up the mountain.
"Come on, it's not that steep," I followed up, already a few feet ahead of her.
Shaking her head, she started moving again. "That was on purpose! So I arrive at the top and have no strength to argue with you!"
She wasn't entirely wrong, but of course, I wouldn't admit that. A little calculation never hurt.
But in the end, it wasn't about the discussion. It was about us meeting on a level playing field and talking about everything in peace. She was out of breath, so I pulled myself together… it wasn't a bad plan.
There was also the wine and food, which may be able to smooth some of the troubled waters.
"How much further is it, anyway?" she called after me.
"A few hundred yards." I pointed up to the left. The last stretch was the most strenuous and would take us up another steep climb to the top and, with it, the hut and the viewing platform, which overlooked the vineyards, the valley and the surrounding mountains.
