Apropos of Nothing

They didn’t know.

It didn’t make looking at the glass any easier. It did make it easy to accept its presence without anger. And the glass was easy to look at. Handmade with a clarity that comes after decades of practice but still having a wee bit of an imperfection that is unavoidable because it’s handmade.

At least the etching that girdled the glass was abstract and invoked the feeling of movement rather than the usual decoration of grapes.

If the etching was of grapes or other fruit used for fermentation, the glass would not have survived this long.

He wouldn’t tell the gifters until a few weeks later, to be polite. Too bad he didn’t think to be polite to himself and decline the gift when it was clear what it was. But Virtue wasn’t ever good with awkward social situations and the couple were so glad to give him something special. Something unique. Something personal.

But, they didn’t know that he’s a recovering alcoholic.

They didn’t know that wine was his preferred imbibement.

They didn’t know that the smell of grapes, even in a bowl for eating, would make him break out into a nervous sweat even though it had been years since he last slipped up.

Since he last slipped just a sip.

Since he last slipped.

They didn’t know.

It’s such a beautiful carafe. It’s such a beautiful glass to go with. The carafe would hold 750 milliliters of fluid. That Virtue could recognize that on sight wounded him. The glass could easily hold 200 milliliters if filled to the rim. But the etching that wound around the glass would mark 150 milliliters at the top of the design and likely 90 milliliters at the bottom of the design.

Without conscious thought, Virtue had marked the volume and computed the math to determine how long he could stretch out the enjoyment of anything that filled that carafe. Though the carafe and the glass were empty, he could smell the tinge of alcohol hiding under overly sweetened wine.

Virtue was still holding the note in his hand. In his sweaty hand. Under the pressure that he had not recognized just yet, the paper slipped and he realized he was holding two notes. He was thankful for the distraction from the glassware until he realized he was reading more about the glassware.

“To Virtue! Our good friend! We hope you will forgive us for listening to the gossip about you! But we saw an opportunity to support you and want you to have something as beautiful as the support you have given us. With love, M&M.”

They knew.

The realization chilled Virtue and settled in his stomach as painful as regret. Regret for quitting or regret for surviving quitting, he wasn’t sure. But this was a horrible pain, nonetheless.

They knew. Despite his best care (or because of it, he’s still not sure), everyone at work knew about his alcoholism. Most of his peers respected his privacy and would not bring it up. A few made it all about them. Two deliberately tried to get him to resume his prior habits.

They knew, and they gave this to him, anyway.

His growing rage caused him to crunch the notes in his hands. The thicker paper of the second note poked him and he opened his hands to let M&M’s note fall away. The handwriting on the second note was larger and yet more delicate. The hand of a well-practiced scribe.

“Before you use the glassware, please read! 1st: Wash the carafe and glass with hot soapy water by hand. While the glass is a durable type, the act of engraving the glass exterior may introduce weaknesses that would render it less durable under automated washing.  2nd: The engravings are such that different fluids will cause the engraving to refract light in different ways. Your carafe and glass has been engraved using a method that best compliments water. While distilled water is best, tap water may also be used. It may be necessary to de-scale the carafe and glass on a regular occasion if water other than distilled water is used. 3rd: It is not recommended to use the carafe and glass with alcoholic beverages as the surfaces may become too slippery to hold securely and the engraving will not be presented as delicately and as bright as with water. Last: It is my hope that you enjoy your gift, that it encourages you to stay hydrated, and that it provides a treat to your eyes and your heart.”

Virtue didn’t realize he was crying until his tears ruined the ink on the crafter’s note. He looked again at the carafe. It was a smooth shape and well balanced to be easy to use when nearly empty as well as when nearly full. The sunlight had shifted while he was sitting there and now the empty glass caught the sun. The engraving pulled the light into racing streaks that wound around the glass as if in glee. Nowhere was there a hint of wine. Everywhere was a declaration of joy.

They knew.

And they chose to share their joy with Virtue in a way that he realized he should have seen coming. Artists share their love with art. They always teased him about being so dour and matter-of-fact with his things. If you’re going to look at something every day, why not something pretty.

The glassware celebrated light. Celebrated water. Celebrated his efforts to remain sober. And did so by being something he could use every day.

He put the notes on the table to dry out. Hopefully, enough ink will remain to be legible. He began running hot water in the kitchen sink. He had some glassware to wash. And after, there is ice and filtered water to fill it with.