Page 67 of Echoes

“Then, why did we come for a drink?”

“You invited me.”

Violet shook her head and said, “Wine?”

“Um… Okay.”

“Red?”

“Sure.”

Violet looked at the waiter then and said, “Can we get a bottle of the house merlot?”

“No problem,” he replied and walked off.

“Merlot?” Rachel asked.

“You don’t like it?”

“Remember me telling you that I wasn’t invited out much?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, part of that is because I can be pretty awkward. And I don’t drink at home by myself, so I don’t know what kind of wines I like or don’t like. I’ve never had a martini. I’ve tried a few different kinds of beer, but I didn’t like any of them, and after a shot of tequila once, I swore to never do that again. So… All this is to say: I don’t actually know if I like merlot.”

Violet smiled and said, “Then, I guess you’re about to find out.”

“Are you a merlot person?”

“I’m a casual wine drinker. I can tell the really bad stuff from the good, but if you put a really expensive bottle in front of me, I couldn’t tell you why it was worth so much. I do drink martinis when I’m out for drinks, but one is my limit. And I don’t really like beer, but I’ll drink it if it’s a decent import, with a little citrus kick, if I can get it. At home, I’ll have a glass of wine occasionally, but not every night, and I prefer decaf coffee or my favorite tea most of the time.”

“So, you’re not a wine snob?”

“No,” she said and shook her head.

“Good. Then, I won’t feel so embarrassed if I try it and hate it.”

“You can hate it or love it all you want. We can always order you something else if you don’t like it,” Violet replied.

“So, are you really going to name your dog Apollo?”

“Yeah, I think I am. Would you… maybe want to meet him sometime? Youdidname him, after all.”

“Do you bring him to the office at all?”

“No, we don’t allow pets in the office.”

“Oh,” Rachel said. “So, I’d come over to your place?”

“If you want to meet him. He’s a funny little guy.”

“Is this because I’ve basically confessed to being an awkward, pathetic person? You’re taking pity on me?”

“What? No. I don’t think you’re awkward at all. And I’m not taking pity on you. You don’t have to meet him if you don’t want to.”

“I do,” Rachel said quickly. “I mean, I love dogs. We just couldn’t have pets when I was little because my mom is deathly allergic, and I haven’t gotten one yet as an adult because I didn’t think I’d be home enough.”

“Work?”