My Dear

A Glass of Wine

I walk out of the grocery store, struggling to hold all my grocery bags. For some reason I thought I would be able to hold all seven bags by myself without the cart.

"Miss, would you like some help?" A teenage boy asks, wearing a shirt with the name of the store.

"No, thank you." I give a respectful smile and continue walking.

Would someone helping benefit me? Yes. But is my ego fragile enough that I won't let anyone? Also yes.

I make it to my car and set everything in the backseat. I feel a bead of sweat dripping from my forehead and I swipe it away. I exhale the air I seemingly have been holding the entire way over then get in the drivers seat and drive to my apartment complex.

I walk to the back of my car after I pull into my designated parking space. I open the backseat and look into the car knowing I will have to go through the same hassle all over again, just up ten stories.

"Ma'am, would you like some help?" I am once again asked that dreadful question. I huff and turn my head to see a girl, has to be late teen or early twenties, with a box in her hands.

I debate my answer for a couple seconds. Looking between the bags and her. "Well, from a pretty girl like you, how can I say no. Except I don't think that you can with that in your hands."

"Well, to your luck, it is empty." She flips it to prove her point.

I nod my head and bring out the first bag. Only a few fit in it but two on each of my arms works better than making seven work.

"Are you moving in?" I ask as we step onto the elevator. "I only ask because you have a box and I know everyone in this building and I've never met you."

"Yes, I am." She says while looking up at the floor numbers change above the elevator doors. "My sister got a job at the hospital down the street and I could not stand to live with our parents anymore, so she said I could live with her."

"I see," I say as we walk out. I lead her to my apartment and stop at my door. I unlock the door and turn to her. "Well, thank y-" I am interrupted by this girl walking through my door and to my kitchen.

I follow her steps, and I see her opening all my cabinets and pantry doors. She begins reaching in bags and putting items away after scanning to see where they go.

"So what's your name?" She asks as she attempts to get something on the top shelf of the pantry. I walk over and place my hand lightly on the small of her back and take the bread from her hands and put it with little effort in the place she was attempting.

I walk back to the island and sit at a barstool. I attempted to help her put things away but she swatted my hands away when I tried to reach in a grocery bag. "Carolina." I say. "My name, that is." I poor a glass of red wine and motion if she would like one also.

"Yes please." She says as she puts the last item away.

She sits on the barstool next to me and smells the wine before taking her first sip. "You better be 21." I mention.

She nods her head. "Twenty two actually. My birthday was last month." She twirls around on the barstool and looks around the apartment. She grabs her glass and walks around. "I like how neat and clean your apartment is. White being the primary color makes it look bigger but also brighter during the day. But the splashes of maroon and black in the decor makes it look so sophisticated. I like your style."

I laugh and standing also. "Well, there's one splash of color you're missing." I walk over and pick up the carefully placed decorative blanket on the couch to reveal a light pink stain. She gasps and then laughs in response. "I've tried everything to get it out: google, Pinterest, calling my godmother, and just scrubbing the hell out of it. Yet, nothing worked."

"Well, I'm going to take this from you," she takes my half full glass from my hands and walks back to the counter, "and we are going to stay over here."

"For your information," I place my hands on my hips and raise an eyebrow. "I am a grown woman."

She nods her head in agreement. "Mhm, I know. But, what age might that be?" She inquires, her now raising an eyebrow.

I shake my head. "That, I will not disclose."

"Oh come on, I did."

"Yes, but my dear, you are young. You have no worry in imparting that information. I, however, will be seen as old."

"28?" She pursues.

I shake my head. "Definitely not, but you are kind."

"26?" She continues. I point a finger up and her eyes widen. "You are not 32."

"My dear you are boosting my ego." I chuckle.

"Oh come on, just tell me."

"You have one more guess."

"Fine, I'm just going to say a number but I know for a fact it isn't true." She sits for a second and I await what she will say. "40."

I nod my head once and she stands up and paces across the living room. "There is no goddamn way you are forty." She practically yells.

"Volume, and language, dear." I drink the last of my wine and walk over to the couch and sit down, stretching out my legs.

"Where's your license?" She asks. "I don't believe you."

"You think I'd admit to being forty if it weren't true?" I laugh. She huffs down onto the couch next to me, our arms touching. "Why are you so upset about this? I'm the one with the age."

"Well, look at you." She motions her hands to me.

"Awe you're sweet." I nudge her arm.

"Can I be honest?" She asks.

I raise an eyebrow. "Well I don't know you so I hope you're being honest. I'd rather not have let a total stranger who has been lying into my home."

She shakes her head. "It's kind of hot that that is your age."

I immediately start laughing and honestly I can't think of anything to say.

"I'm sorry was that too forward?" She turns towards me.

"No, no. I'm just so flattered I don't know what to say." I feel my cheeks that are definitely red. "Would you like to get dinner with me?"

"Asking a complete stranger on a date, I see." She teases.

"How about to get to know a new friend." I say.

"Sounds good to me. Let me just go grab my purse from my apartment and I'll meet you outside?" She asks while getting up.

She walks over to the door and before she opens the door I speak up. "Hey, what's your name?"

"Lenore."