Take Care of Merle

A cobblestone walk lined in terracotta bricks leads patrons past two potted olive trees and massive timber columns holding up a gabled roof projecting from the stone and timber building. Under the high vaulted ceiling of the extruded entryway a man paced nervously. He looked at his watch, then down the walk from which he came only moments ago. He turned to the building’s heavy oaken doors each framing a single, tall and narrow pane of glass then returned to his watch to repeat the routine. After several minutes of this redundancy, he looked one last time down the walk and resolved to advance on the heavy double doors.

As he entered the elegant, strategically lighted foyer of the building, an attractive young lady with long silky brown hair, blue eyes and a smattering of freckles on her face greeted him. In her arms she held two tall, faux leather-bound booklets.

“Do you have reservations,” the girl asked with a smile.

“Um... yes,” the man hesitated. “Langon... I’m afraid I’m early.”

“That’s okay Mr. Langon. We can go ahead and seat you. Will the other member of your party still be joining you?”

“Yes... er, uh... I think so. A young woman,” Langon said with a blush and turned back to look at the door. “I hope so.”

“You are welcome to wait at the bar for her, or if you would like me to go ahead and take you to your table, I can escort her back when she arrives.”

“Yes... please. That would be nice. Um... she’s a very attractive woman – about 30. She has long auburn hair and green eyes. Her name is Mer... er, uh... Connie,” Langon said furtively.

The hostess led Langon past the bar and through the main dining room out onto a patio in a relatively private table near to where a mountain stream made its closest approach to the restaurant. She tried to convince him to sit in the main dining room because the sun would be down soon and this time of year it can still get chilly by the creek, but Langon was insistent.

“You will be undisturbed back here tonight,” the hostess said.

“That’s okay. That’s the way we like it,” Langon said, finding himself thinking about his late wife again though he didn’t indicate that to the hostess.

A young man arrived at his table with waters and breadsticks as soon as the hostess walked away.

“Will you be joined by anyone tonight,” the waiter asked before sitting down the second water.

“Yes. My date... Um... I’m early. Not used to this dating thing. Met her online.” Langon said, uncertain why he was sharing so much information to this stranger. “Been a while, I guess.”

The waiter just smiled. “I’ll come back to check on you in a bit.”

As the waiter left, Langon shook his head and chuckled placing both hands on his face. “What am I doing here,” he asked himself. It was a legitimate question. It had been Merilee’s favorite place. Together, they celebrated six anniversaries here and five of Merilee’s birthdays. He hadn’t returned here in more than a year. He hadn’t been able to. His last memory here made him happier than he had ever been, but it led to the most depressing time of his life.

Langon raised his head to look across the patio at an empty table in the corner of the rock wall that surrounded the outdoor room. It happened right there. Merilee had made the reservations and texted her husband to meet her there after work. He didn’t know what it was about, but as they had been trying to have children, he had his suspicions.

She was already at the table when he got there. As soon as she saw his face, her eyes were squeezed shut by a large toothy grin and she leapt from the table to meet him.

“Look! Look! Look!” Merilee said dragging him across the floor to the table. She handed him a small box and beckoned him to open it. He untied the ribbon and folded back the cover to reveal a small white cake topped with two baby shoes, one pink and one blue.

“Oh my God, sweetheart! Are you sure,” he asked holding the cake in one hand and grabbing Merilee’s shoulder with the other.

“YES!” She bellowed. “I went by Dr. Ehrenthal’s just to be sure... WE’RE PREGNANT!”

That was the last time he remembered being happy. Less than two months later, Merilee was gone.

“Pic?” Langon heard the familiar name and was roused from his daydream.

“Oh! Hey,” he said standing to greet the attractive woman. “You must be Connie?”

“Yes,” she said.

“It’s great to meet you in person,” he continued helping her into her chair.

“Thanks, I’m happy to meet you too,” She said. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Oh no,” he answered. “I was here way early... To be honest, I’m a bit nervous.”

“Yeah, me too,” she assured him but gently touched his hand and smiled at him as he sat down returning his confidence.

“I have to ask,” she said looking out over the flowing water, then back into Langon’s eyes. “Pic? That is a very interesting name.”

“Yeah,” he laughed grabbing for a breadstick to avoid showing his nerves. “It’s actually Picard. Mom and Dad were pretty young when they had me and Dad was a big Star Trek fan. I usually go by Pic and say it’s an old high school nickname to avoid telling that story.” He laughed again. “Not sure why I’m telling you that now.”

“I think it’s a handsome name,” Connie insisted. “Very distinguished.”

“It’s certainly better than my first name,” Pic said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mom wouldn’t let Dad call me Jean Luc so they came to an agreement on Eugene.”

“Eugene Picard Langon,” Connie repeated. “Nothing wrong with that name.”

After sharing a smile, the couple paused to look into each others eyes. “You are so...” Pic started but caught himself. “Hey, would you like to order some wine,” he said instead.

“Sure. I like their house merlot.”

“I’M NOT DRINKING MERLOT,” Pic grumbled in a low voice almost instinctively at Connie’s suggestion.

Connie laughed. “Sideways,” she said.

“Yeah! Paul Giamatti,” he was surprised she got it and not sure why he did it.

“Love that movie,” Connie said.

“Yeah. So, did Merilee,” he said. “She loved the house merlot here too. I used to say that every time. Never got old... You know it is just surreal to me that you chose to meet me here.”

“So, what happened to Merilee,” Connie asked, changing the subject.

Just then the waiter returned to the table. “Are we still waiting,” he asked.

“Um...” Pic paused to think, momentarily distracted by Connie’s question. “Can you bring us a bottle of your house merlot please.”

As the waiter left, Pic returned to Connie’s question. "We had been married for nearly six years and seeing a fertility doctor for three of those years. Finally, something worked. She was pregnant. We were so happy, but at about the twelfth week of her pregnancy, she had a miscarriage. We were prepared for that possibility, but we never imagined what would happen next. The doctors discovered she had metastatic breast cancer... At 30 years old?” He said looking at Connie like he expected her to have an answer, but she only gave him a caring look and pressed his hand more firmly.

“Somehow the fertility drugs and the pregnancy had sped up the cancer growth,” he said shaking his head and looking at the table as a tear escaped the lip of his eye.

“There was nothing they could do,” he said through a cracking voice. “She died two weeks later.”

Connie slid her chair closer to Pic and wrapped her arms around him pressing his head into her breast. There was nothing that could be said. Pic had shunned all loving touch for more than a year. He needed this right now and Connie knew it.

“I’m sorry,” Pic said finally regaining his composure.

“That’s okay,” Connie reassured him gently rubbing his back.

“You haven’t even looked at the menu,” he said trying to return joy to the moment. “Do you know what you want.”

“Surprise me,” She answered. “I like everything on their menu.”

The waiter returned and poured their house merlot into Pic’s glass. “Can I get you anything else while you wait,” he asked.

“Um, I think we are ready to order,” Pic said. “The lady will have the Sicilian-style citrus scallops, with linguine and I’ll have the filet... medium rare,” and he handed the menus back to the waiter.

“You want me to go ahead and put that in,” the waiter asked.

“Absolutely,” Pic said thinking it was an odd question.

“That’s my favorite,” Connie said as the waiter turned and walked away again.

“Funny. I thought it might be... What the hell? He didn’t pour you any,” Pic said grabbing the bottle and pouring the wine into Connie’s empty glass. She took a sip and Pic noticed the subtle lipstick stain she left on the rim of the glass.

A starling fluttered in and landed on the stone wall near Connie and Pic’s table.

“Look!” Connie exclaimed.

“Wow,” Pic said looking at the bird. “He looks like Merle.”

“Merle?”

“Crazy story,” Pic chuckled. “About four years ago, Merilee found this baby blackbird that couldn’t quite get off the ground. Guess the other babies had flown off and the parents abandoned it. She took it in.”

“Motherly instinct,” Connie interrupted.

“Yeah, I guess,” Pic agreed. “Anyway, I was sure the thing would die, but she nursed it back to health. She was outside every day collecting worms, bugs and creepy crawly things to feed that bird.”

“And?”

“Well, she tried to let it go but the damn thing kept coming back.” Pic said staring at the starling unaware that Connie was picking off a piece of the bread. “He would leave for a few days and come back. He would take off for weeks at a time and we were sure he was gone for good, but we would be sitting on the front porch on a warm evening to watch the sun set and here Merle would swoop in and perch right on Merilee’s...”

Pic stopped before he could complete his thought as he watched the fearless bird fly from the rock wall to land softly on Connie’s shoulder.

“Just like that,” Pic said in shock as Connie held up the piece of bread for Merle to pick from.

“What just hap...” Pic started then recognized his Merilee for the very first time since she walked in and sat next to him in the restaurant.

“He prefers worms and beetles, but he’ll eat the bread in a pinch. You’ll watch for him won’t you love? Keep treats at the ready when he comes to visit,” Merilee said transferring Merle from her shoulder to Pic’s.

“Merilee...” Pic’s voice wavered.

“It’s time to move on sweetheart. You have suffered long enough.”

“But I... I miss you... I love you so much. I... I don’t want to live without you.”

“You have to my love,” Merilee pressed him. “You will marry again and have three beautiful children and your baby girl you will name her Merilee. Do this for me Pic.”

“But I...”

“Shh...” She put her finger on Pic’s lips. “Do this for me Pic... and take care of Merle. Promise me you will!”

Pic paused at the thought but promised he would do what she asked.

“I love you and will always be near you... Just like Merle,” Merilee said and their lips touched in a long slow kiss.

Pic felt her lips fade from his and when he opened his eyes, she was gone. Merle still rest on his shoulder as Pic looked to the glass of merlot with a lipstick stain on the rim.