The next afternoon Jia struggles to keep her eyes open while pouring glasses of wine for eagerly waiting drunks. It’s the slow season and most of the customers are regulars. They’re easy; they know what they like and don’t ask questions. There’s still a few tourists and every time she has to explain the difference between a pinot and a cabernet her head pounds and she wants to scream. The only thing getting her through the morning is an occasional drink with a couple of the regulars. Their cabernet in particular is having a great year and she doesn’t mind taking a sip. It’d be rude not to.
Every few minutes she catches herself glancing at the clock, desperate for three o’clock when her shift ends. If she hurries she can make it to see her grandfather today but visiting hours at the nursing home only go through five. The first few hours this morning were so slow she drank more than the customers. With how slow they are she can get all her stocking and cleaning done. That way when her shift ends she can get out right away.
At five minutes to three her heart breaks. She’s washing the last of the glasses and getting ready to run out the door when a glance outside reveals a bus pulling up. Out pour at least twenty elderly customers, all eager to get a little more drunk than they already are. Most of the big tour buses know to call in advance when bringing a big group. Her dad just took over behind the counter and was about to relieve her but now the tour group is pushing past each other to cram in the door and they’re lining up behind the counter two and three deep. She can’t abandon him to this.
“Sorry kiddo,” he says. “Let’s get this group taken care of and we’ll get you out of here.” She nods and immediately goes into greatest server ever mode. Greetings, fresh glasses, crackers to clear their palates, she lines up everything they could possibly need.
One of the more sober of the group explains this isn’t actually a tour but rather a group of friends who rented a bus and set out on their own. The majority know nothing about wine and the next hour is agonizing, having to explain each variety to them and finding most of their best bottles sent back. There seem to be a few in the group who enjoy wine and know a little about it but the majority of their friends don’t. If the group’s vocal reaction is to be believed, the best thing they’re served are the complementary crackers.
By the time the last of them file out it’s after four. One man buys a case of their fruit wines, so at least that’s something. Good for on the bus he explains. The rest of the group buy only a few bottles. As much as Jia hated her last hour, she knows she’s happier where she is than she’d be on that bus.
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Her dad gives the all clear and tells her to have a great day. She considers whether she can still make it to see her grandfather and decides it’s impossible. It’s at least a forty five minute bike ride and at best she’d end up with a few minutes to visit. Getting information out of him won’t be that easy. It’s just not worth it. When she’s about to head to the house she has one last desperate idea. “Hey dad, can I borrow the van for a little while? I won’t be late.”
“Sorry kiddo, your mom has it. Ran to do some errands. She won’t be back until after dinner.”
Accepting that fate has dealt her a tough hand and she isn’t going to make it today, Jia sighs and starts looking for the bottle of aspirin she stashes in the winery. “At this point my plans aren’t going to work out then. I guess I can help clean up around here if you want.”
He seems thrilled to have the help. They have enough glasses from this last group to load the dishwasher before Jia gets to work fixing up their shelves which the guests left in a state of disarray.
With her other plan out for now, Jia decides to try and make today less of a bust. She may not get anything out of her mom but her dad can be a little loose lipped. He certainly was last night. With her mom off on some errand, maybe he’ll crack.
“You mentioned last night that mom used to do martial arts. Why haven’t you guys ever mentioned that before? I’ve been competing for eight years.”
Her dad tenses immediately, trying not to look at her. “I don’t know. You know how your mother is. She likes to keep certain things to herself.”
“You said grandpa was involved too. Do you know what types of martial arts they were into?”
He seems awfully interested in the novelty wine glasses he’s straightening. He’s been working on one shelf since before their conversation began. “You know, I don’t. It was a long time ago and it wasn’t really my thing. Maybe you should ask your mother about it. She’d know more than I do.”
This almost elicits a snort. She knows better than that and so does her dad. “We both know very well how that would go. Getting information out of her is like pulling a crocodile’s tooth.”
He shrugs. “You know how your mother is.” He’s much more tight lipped than the night before. Is his guard back up after a good night’s sleep? Or did mom actually get to him and tell him not to talk about this?
She realizes she’s hit a brick wall here. Dad isn’t going to slip again. He’s not outright denying the conversation but he’s going to keep directing her back to her mom and her mom will shut the subject down as soon as she brings it up. She’s left with only one possible source of information.