Babe Stern 01 - Dead in the Dregs by Peter Lewis

By Peter Lewis

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I had no interest but took a seat. Colin put a set of stems in front of me as he waxed rhapsodically about his latest experiment, a Sangiovese Cab blend. I dutifully took a sip. If there were Sangiovese anywhere in the glass, I couldn’t find it. Nor could I figure out how Wilson and I were going to talk about anything with Norton standing there. A moment later we heard a knock, and a young man stuck his head in the door. He appeared tongue-tied and simply stared at Wilson as if he were some kind of exotic sea creature.

Though the court had granted me regular visitation, there’s nothing regular when you own a bar. Weeks and months went by without a visit. I wasn’t sure if or how I’d ever find a way back. But I wanted to. I loved Danny. He was sweet and funny, sensitive and as smart as a whip. What I found tough to take were the looks he’d throw me: doubt, suspicion, and a mistrust born of endless disappointment. He stood on that odd cusp between childhood and adolescence where the consequences of our affections and disaffections first begin to take hold, and we both could see that a distance had crept up on us.

Could you make some inquiries? ” I asked, knowing I was pushing it. ” “I’ll see what I can do,” he said and hung up. I knew that a lot of winemakers resented Richard, but I was unprepared for Biddy’s petty ire. Tanner Cellars was just the sort of place that never found its way into the pages of The Wine Maven. Teukes probably felt neglected and unfairly maligned, but if anything, Wilson’s was a sin of omission, not of commission. Better no review at all than a shitty score. Next up was Gio. Giovanna Belli was a black-haired beauty who’d first appeared at Pancho’s the previous winter.

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