Spilt Wine, Between The Lines

Chapter 2

Phoebe enjoys a hearty supper of baked chicken bread, bids goodbye to Mina and her mom then heads home. She enters the house and finds her mother going through a tower of paperwork.

“Whatcha doing?” Phoebe asks casually while sitting next to her mom at the dining table. “Nothing sweetie, just trying to organise my client’s case. How are Nina and her mother? Did you make any progress with your book?”

Phoebe told her mother about Mrs Einar’s husband’s business trip, and what she did all day at Nina’s. Her mother gave her a concerned look, “So you did not make any progress with the book?”

“It is so arduous! I don’t understand why I chose this simple-minded plot!” Exasperated, Phoebe flings her arms on the table and puts her head down. “Hey, it is okay. Perhaps tomorrow will be different”, her mother comforts her. “Yeah, we will see”, Phoebe says discouragingly.

Phoebe chats with her mother some more, then lets her get back to her task, while Phoebe heads back upstairs and enters her bedroom. She eyes her plushies that are arranged on her bed. “You guys are so lucky; all you get to do is stay in bed and look adorable.”

Phoebe gets into bed and resumes reading her w*****d story. Her eyes start getting heavy, and she eventually passes out. 

She is woken by the incessant ringing coming from her phone. She looks around and notices the sun has risen again. She lets out a deep exhale and then checks her phone. Of course, it is Mr Samwise yet again, calling to pressurise her some more. Phoebe attends the call while burrowing under her blanket. 

“Good morning to you too, sir,” Phoebe says sarcastically. “Morning? Please don’t tell me you are still sleeping? It is 1 PM currently as we speak!” Mr Samwise yells out hotheadedly. Phoebe removes the phone from her ear to verify the time. Well, shoot, he is right, again. Phoebe puts the phone back on her ear and nonchalantly goes on, “Yes, I am aware Mr Samwise. I wished you good morning because you called me now, which suggests your day has just begun.”

“Do not play around right now missy, please let me know of your progress,” demanded Mr Samwise. “Oh right, the progress, yes, I am nearly finished,” Phoebe returns dryly. “You said that yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that!” Mr Samwise bellows. “Calm down sir, what I meant to say was, I figured out the conclusion,” Phoebe lies. “Well, that’s marvellous!” Exclaims Mr Samwise keenly. “Till when can I expect the draft?” 

“You can expect it till tomorrow night,” Phoebe answers while frantically jumping around looking for her laptop. “Splendid! I will call you tomorrow at, say, 9 PM?” asks Mr Samwise cheerfully. “Uh, yeah, sure, sure,” Phoebe replies absentmindedly. With that Mr Samwise disconnects. “That old geezer does not even let me take the high road and end the call first. Gosh!” Phoebe lets out a frustrated cry, realising her laptop is still in her bag. 

She powers the laptop on and lingers on the typed words. She shakes her head then heads downstairs to get some coffee. The house is still and exhibits loneliness. Her dad ran out on her mother when she was six years old. Since then, Phoebe and her mother have tried to make a living by any means. Phoebe does not have the time to take in the blues now because she is too stressed about reaching her deadline. 

She resolves to go with one of Mina’s proposed plots. She brings the enormous mug of coffee with her, then sits down and starts typing while taking occasional sips. A few hours later, she gets up, paces around, and extends her limbs. Man, this is tiring. She checks her phone and finds a text from Mina.

Mina: Hey, want to get some drinks later?

Phoebe stares at the text, then at her work on the screen. She decides to go for a drink to loosen up.

Phoebe: Sure, tonight at 7?

Mina: Sounds good! See ya then, byeeee <3

Phoebe puts her phone aside and gets back to working on her tedious and foreseen storyline.

She starts getting ready by 6:30 PM. Her mother had left her a message stating that she will be late from work. Phoebe informs her that she is going out for a drink with Nina. 

Phoebe slips into a baggy, tucked in coral pink T-shirt paired with Prussian blue dyed jeans, topped with an unbuttoned cocoa brown linen jacket with slip-on spider black sneakers. She fixes her hair up into a messy bun, grabs her car keys, takes one last glance in the mirror, and then heads out. She drives to a pub that meets halfway between her and Nina’s house. She goes inside and waits near the bar for Nina. After a few minutes, Nina shows up. “I hope I did not keep you waiting!” Nina says apologetically while approaching Phoebe. She is donning a gorgeous knee-length sunglow yellow-coloured sheath dress topped with an open-front burnt umber brown stained blazer, paired with sandy brown lace wedges. 

The girls order a beer each and somehow wind up on Phoebe's book. “So, are you going to go with the resentful billionaire plot or the sinister secret plot?” Mina asks while downing her beer. “I think I am going to pick the sinister secret plot. The father gains information that the billionaire has done some dubious deeds like developing a pyramid scheme, and then the billionaire ends up killing the father or something.” Phoebe answers after taking a sip of her beer.

“That is genius! You’re welcome for the idea,” Mina responds smugly. “Yeah, yeah, thanks for the last-minute help. Although the plot seems cliché, I still need to reach my deadline. I am so done with writing books. It is time to get a real job.” 

While the girls are chattering away, the bartender nears them. “Good evening ladies. I apologise for the intrusion, but I overheard your discussion. Are you perhaps Phoebe Caddell, the famous author with three previously printed masterpieces?” 

The girl’s eyes stray over to the bartender. He had medium-length gingerbread brown hair with caramel streaks, styled into a natural flow like waves of a sea. A slight stubble embraced his jaw and mouth region. His obsidian pupils shimmered like dark pearls, housed into deep-set sloed eyes. Something was bewitching about the way his eyes looked, but the girls could not put their fingers on it.

“Yes, that’s me!” Phoebe faces the bartender as if getting engulfed by some inexplicable energy, producing a slight grin. “Wow, I am a huge fan! Do you mind giving me an autograph?” The bartender reaches for a notepad and a pen while sustaining eye contact with Phoebe. Phoebe takes the pen from his hand, then breaks eye contact to see where she is signing. “Who may I address it to?” She eyes notepad while pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, my name is Velho”, the bartender answers with the edge of his lip curved up seductively.

Phoebe scribbles in the notepad and hands it back to Velho. He appears to be ecstatic. “Thank you so much! I truly appreciate this!” 

“Might as well give out autographs before I become old news,” Phoebe takes another sip of her beer while letting out a low exhale. “No don’t say that Phoebes!” Mina hugs Phoebe out of comfort. “Why would you be old news? Your work is astounding!” Velho chimes in. “Well, I am working on my last book this week,” Phoebe blurts out, a look of dejection in her eyes, “It is like a farewell edition for all my fans.” 

“If you do not mind me asking, why is that so?” Velho’s knits his brows in worry. “I am having a difficult time knocking down my writer’s block, so I have decided to just get a decent job, get out into the real world, you know? It might be good for me. Once my writer’s block is over, I might get back into writing novels.”

“That sounds fair,” Velho lifts an eyebrow, smiling playfully. “But what if I told you that I had the solution to your writer’s block?”

“Trust me I have tried everything,” Phoebe locks eyes with him again, “I have read the blogs, seen the videos, tried out all the tips. Everything was a fail.” 

“What if I told you that the answer you are seeking is not in some blog or video, but a drink?” 

Phoebe and Nina are intrigued and lured in by this statement. “What do you mean a drink? Are you proposing Phoebe gets black-out drunk?” Nina lets out a chortle. “Of course not. It is a type of wine, but it is of premium quality and reserved for specific clients.” Velho clutches a short-necked, cylindrical myrtle green bottle encased in a rustic taupe brown metal casing designed to portray the form of a knight’s helmet and shield, following a spiralling handle.

“Woah,” the girls look in awe at the stunning pattern. “That looks antique; how old is this wine?” Phoebe rubs the metal helmet and shield. “That does not matter; what matters is that this wine can help you out.” Velho fills a long-stemmed, pear-shaped crystal wine glass halfway. “That should be enough to get your creativity back,” he looks content and keeps the bottle away. “Hey hey, what about me?” Mina looks at him pleadingly. “Unfortunately, this drink is only for people with a creative block,” Velho asserts. “Aw, c’mon! Just a tiny sip?” Nina is at it again with her puppy face. “I am afraid it has drastic effects on people who are not going through a creative block. I really would let you have a sip, but it could be dangerous.”

“Fine,” Nina throws herself back in her chair, surrendering. “I suppose I could keep an eye out on Phoebe. Are you sure this is not poison?” Nina titters. “Trust me, I would gain nothing from harming your friend,” Velho says while passing the glass to Phoebe. “You could be a psycho who relishes seeing people die or something,” Nina facetiously says while crossing her arms. “If I were to poison you, I would not do it in public. Besides, you may let my boss know. He had this drink when he was struggling in life, and now he is as successful as can be!” Phoebe and Nina share sceptic glances amongst each other, then look at Velho, then at the drink.

“I am kind of afraid now”, Phoebe lets out a nervous chuckle. “That is understandable; I will not push you to drink this wine. However, if you ever have a change of heart, feel free to come back,” Velho starts to retract the glass, but then Phoebe grabs his arm and stops him. “And you are sure this will work?” Phoebe asks desperately. “If it does not work, you would have at least had the best-tasting wine on this planet,” Velho assures. Phoebe clasps her fingers around the stem, tilts it, and gets a whiff of the smell. It looks like ordinary red wine, but for some reason, it had an intoxicating fruity aroma.

“Wow, this smells wondrous,” Phoebe puts the glass on her lower lip, before parting her mouth and taking a small sip. “Oh my goodness, I just tasted 10 different fruits separately!” She exclaimed. “Are you serious? I am so envious of you!” Mina moans. Phoebe pauses for a while, to see if she feels anything weird, but in turn, feels refreshed. “Just one sip is so reinvigorating, this is incredible. I do not feel anything bizarre.” With that, Phoebe leisurely savours her drink. Upon finishing, Velho takes the glass and inquires, “How do you feel now?” 

“I feel like I can conquer the world! I kid you not, but I tasted mangoes, strawberries, grapes, apples, pears, mandarins, bananas, blueberries, kiwifruits, and apricots; all individually! That is crazy! I have never had anything like this in my life!” Phoebe seems exhilarated, while Nina stares at her in bewilderment.