Page 22 of Pour Decisions
“Mom! Are you still awake?” I yell as I race down the hall.
“I would be now,” she says. “Why are you yelling?”
“Read this, does it say what I think it says?” I thrust the certificate at her.
She takes it into the light of the kitchen and reads what it says, her lips moving as she goes, the words tumbling faintly from her mouth as her smile starts then grows to overtake her face.
“Oh, Morgan, this is wonderful news. I’m so proud of you, honey.” She pulls me into her arms and kisses me on the cheek.
“Okay, so it says what I think it says, right?” I bounce in place, getting more excited by the second as it sinks in.
“What’s all the fuss about?” My grandma shuffles into the room, rubbing her eyes as she walks.
“I’m a finalist in the Wine Review Magazine’s Annual Innovation in US Wine Making award for Ginuwine Juniperfection.”
“Oh, honey.” Tears spring to her eyes. “Your father would be so proud of you.”
“He would, wouldn’t he?” I ask, clearing my throat and trying to stem the emotion I feel rising in my chest. “Well, it’s his vision, I’m just seeing it through.”
“It’s your talent that has made it happen,” my mom reminds me.
“I’m going to go call Tess,” I tell them, turning to skip back down the hall to my room. “I’ve only got a week to prepare, and she needs to make me look beautiful.”
“You’re already beautiful,” both women say in unison. Making me smile as I shut myself in my room and grab the phone to make my call.
10
11
The Wine Review Magazine’s Annual Innovation in US Wine Making award ceremony is actually a three-day event, combining conference and continuing education with a party and a pseudo-ceremony. I arrive early on day one eager to check out all the vendor booths and get my hands on the agenda so I can see which seminars I want to attend. The venue was only a four-hour drive from where we live, and I made good time having left just after the typical morning commuter traffic ends.
I check in, get my swag bag, conference info, and room key, and turn to head for the elevator bay.
“I’ve got this.” A porter takes my suitcase and garment bag from me. “My name is Andrew. Follow me and I’ll show you to your room.”
“Okay,” I giggle, feeling a little silly about having someone not only carry my luggage for me, but show me to my room. I don’t think I have any cash to tip him. I surreptitiously check my purse for money as I trail after him. That’s what you do in hotels like this, right?
“After you.” He motions for me to enter the elevator before him once it’s arrives.
I move to hit the button for the sixth floor.
“I’ve got it, ma’am.” Andrew gets to it before I do.
Are we supposed to make small talk? If so, about what?
“So, Andrew is it?” I confirm.
He nods.
“Do you like the hospitality business?” I ask lamely.
“Yes, ma’am. One day is never like the other, meeting new people all the time, it’s definitely not boring for sure.”
I have a feeling he gave me his rote answer, but I don’t know what I expected. Were we supposed to open up and have a heart to heart about our lives between floors two and six?
The elevator dings our arrival and the doors slide open soundlessly, revealing a wide corridor with plush seating and low lighting. It seems like the nicer the hotel, the more seating they have in arbitrary places. Who knows, maybe people get tired and need to sit down as they wait for the elevator at expensive hotels.
“It’s a nice hotel,” I say.
