Chapter 4 Building Bridges

As soon as he saw Marcia, he turned in the direction June had indicated and walked toward the wine table.

From his first glance at the table a moment ago, he had noticed that some club members were pouring tiny portions of wine for guests to taste and share their thoughts on the quality and flavor of the wine; others were helping guests decide which wines they would actually like to drink for the evening; and the more enterprising ones were taking names and contact information for wine selections to be purchased and delivered to students' dorms, homes, and as gifts for friends and family.

The atmosphere was rowdy, a situation the runner had been trying to avoid, but he would rather face this than engage with the student he had met earlier that day.

Surprised, Marcia stopped, watching him walk away. Feeling embarrassed, she returned to the two friends she had been standing with earlier.

By the end of the evening, the runner was leaving when Marcia rushed up to him, grabbing his shoulder, "Hey! Hello there. I see you came. How was the event? Did you like any particular wine?"

The runner stopped, turning his head slightly, irritation creeping into his voice, "Must you lay your hands on me when you speak?"

Marcia nervously withdrew her hand, her head hanging low as she apologized to him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I, I, I didn't mean to do that...again." She said nervously, looking around, checking that no one was witnessing the scene.

The runner glanced at Marcia and then quickly looked away, fixing his eyes just above Marcia's left shoulder.

"Do you also always apologize every time? Are apologies the only words you know how to speak?" Jullian retorted, his eyes still averted.

Marcia, surprised and somewhat more than a little annoyed at this response, fixed her gaze on the runner and said, in a tone much harsher than she intended, "Well, I don't know. Maybe. What about you? Is all you know how to do is look away from someone when speaking?"

Marcia held her breath, surprised at the shortness of her tone but staring directly at him, her mind racing, it seems he has stopped breathing. It seems...I don't know...It seems something, something is going on in his mind. Marcia fixed her deep brown eyes on her runner's face. ...MY runner? Marcia's mind was racing, and her face flushed unexpectedly.

Meanwhile, as all this was going on in Marcia's head, the runner had been slowly turning his gaze toward Marcia, and his eyes came to rest on her flushed face. "No, I can look at people when I speak to them." He replied evenly.

Marcia, straightened her shoulders a bit, and retorted, "Well, that's good to know. Do you have a name as well?"

The runner, her runner, with his mouth twitching slightly, hinting at a suppressed smile, seemed to pause and then, as if making a decision, responded, "Jullian."

Marcia blinked, exhaled slightly, relaxed her shoulders a bit, and replied, "Oh! Great! Jullian. I'm Marcia," she said, holding out her hand for a handshake.

Jullian looked down at Marcia's hand, again he seemed to pause for a moment, then stretched out his hand to complete the greeting.

Still holding Jullian's hand, Marcia asked, "So, how was the wine tasting?"

Jullian's eyes were on their hands, still locked together in the handshake. He looked back at Marcia's face and responded, "It was average. The wine was of sufficient quality for the level of the club. One could not expect wine from the Musigny vineyard nor from the Sauternes region of Bordeaux, but this was not unsatisfactory."

Marcia, excitement bubbling within her, pulled Jullian's hand, making him involuntarily take a step forward, looking into his eyes enthusiastically she said, "Do you know wine? You know about wines? How do you know the Musigny vineyard and Sauternes? What about wines from the Vega Sicilia estate or the Harlan Estate? Do you know about those as well?"

Jullian tried to pull his hand out of the handshake that had gone on far too long. But Marcia tightened her grip and grabbed Jullian's hand with her second hand, her brown eyes clearly saying, tell me more, tell me more about the wines and the regions that you know.

Jullian exhaled and put his hand over Marcia's two hands, applying pressure and pulling away from the handshake.

Marcia stepped back nervously. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about that. I...I overdid it again. I'm so sorry."

Jullian exhaled, shaking his head, "Sorry. Sorry again." He replied, his voice flat.

"Sorry. Uh, no, that's not what I meant. I meant, I mean...what I'm trying to say is I love wines, probably a bit too much, and you seem to know about it. And I think it would be good for us to have some conversations about it. And maybe you could even join the club?" Marcia said hurriedly, an embarrassed expression on her face.

Jullian turned to leave, standing sideways to her, "I don't join clubs. It's not something I'm interested in," he said dismissively.

As he started to leave, Marcia grabbed his arm again; and again, Jullian looked at Marcia in the face, exasperated. But this time, Marcia tightened her grip and took a step forward saying, "Is it clubs that you don't join? Or is it people that you don't join?"

Jullian lifted his chin slightly, staring into her eyes. This time, Marcia was the one to look away, her gaze drifting down to the space between his nose and chin. She glanced at his lips, and quickly blurred her vision by looking at the space just before this part of Jullian's face. But she didn't let go of his arm.

Jullian, after what seemed like forever, responded, "I won't join the club. But if it's about wine and where it's grown, I can talk about that."

Marcia looked up, her doe eyes shining and dancing in her clear, oval-shaped face, and responded "Excellent! Great! Where do we meet? How do we meet?"

Jullian pulled away from Marcia and asked, "You have a phone number?"