The Truth is in the Wine Read Online Free

working since I was four-teen—that’s thirty-six years straight where I earned a living.
    â€œTo be out of work for almost year took something out of me. I couldn’t really convey it to her. I fell into a funk and she into a funk about me. I don’t like it, but I can’t blame her. I was supposed to be the man for her, to provide. Not working drained some of my manhood, in her eyes.”
    â€œIt’s not like you weren’t trying to get employed,” Big Al said. “Or that you quit your job. You got downsized. Millions of guys have been downsized. And since then you have been hitting the bricks, interviewing, trying to get on. It’s a bad time in the country, no matter how hard President Obama tries. Seems like if you were trying to get work she would understand and not simply check out on you.
    â€œBut, hey, that’s just me. Anyway, so what’s your plan? Anyone else gets rich, they act like they just got rich. You…you’re gonna act like nothing changed? I gotta see this.”
    â€œWell, not exactly,” he said. “I was part of a major class action suit against a bank that was overcharging on overdraft fees for twenty years. Ginger knows about it. I’m gonna tell her I got a settlement check of five thousand for that and that my income tax check came from last year—a little more money.
    â€œThen I’m going to take her on a trip we both said we really wanted to go on before I lost my job—to the Napa Valley in California, to the wine country. We never went because I don’t like to fly. But I’m going to for this.
    â€œAl, this is my chance to get my life back the way I want it, but even better because we’ll have each other and no more financial issues. Truth be told, I don’t want anyone else. I want Ginger.”
    â€œWell, good luck, my brother,” Al said. “I gotta get home. But when you’re ready to start really spending that money, hit me up.”
    â€œYou know I got you, man,” Paul said. “First thing to do is line up your bills. We’re gonna pay all them off and go from there. I’ll have some nice cash for you.”
    They shook hands and slapped each other on the back.
    â€œTomorrow!” Paul yelled to Al as he walked toward his car.
    An hour later, after he had pinched himself and the reality of the money set it, he heard the garage door open, indicating Ginger was home. The timing for the money was ideal; they had wiped out their savings for their daughter’s first year of college. Paying for her education no longer would be a worry.
    It seemed his only worry was if his wife would embrace him trying to mend their broken marriage.

CHAPTER 3
PICKING UP THE PIECES
    P aul got concerned when he realized Ginger had been in the car about fifteen minutes after he heard the garage door go up. He went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Viognier and two glasses.
    Before he could go check on Ginger, she emerged, moving slowly, with her head down. She was down about her daughter being off to college and scared about the panic attack she had.
    â€œHey,” Paul said with a level of concern in his voice—something Ginger had not heard in some time, “You OK?”
    Ginger was stunned by his concern. She had heard no caring inflection in his voice for months, not toward her, anyway. She lifted her head and looked at him. Paul looked different, she noticed right away. He stood more upright and his eyes were bright, not sullen.
    â€œDo you care, Paul?” she said, walking past him to the living room, where she sat on the couch.
    Paul did not answer. He went to the kitchen and retrieved the wine and the glasses. He placed it on the coffee table in front of Ginger. She was confused. He had not offered her any of his precious wine in months.
    â€œGinger,” he said, “I do care.”
    â€œSince when?” she asked.
    Paul poured wine into the