Mice and Merlot

Carla Sellers walked into the mouse shop, looking tired and far older than she really was. The tiredness and sadness she had been plagued by since her husband’s death several months before seemed to lift a little as she entered the shop. It was sizable, and cozy, with rows of incredibly large cages stretching out in front of her.

“May I help you, ma’am?” a voice said.

Carla snapped from her thoughts to see a lanky dark-haired man coming in from a back room, holding a smoky-gray mouse and leaning on a wooden crutch. She made a face when she caught the scent of something pungent and musky. “Might I ask... that smell-?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The man grinned, a little embarrassed. “I’m Jesse Garrison. The smell is the male mice. They don’t smell the greatest, but I got used to it a long time ago.”

“And how long ago was that?”

“Years and years. I’ve lost count. I started when I was very young. Didn’t take long because I fell in love with these little creatures.” The conversation stopped, and Jesse looked down at the mouse in his hand before regaining eye contact with Carla. “So, is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes.” Carla had nearly forgotten why she came here. “I’m looking to acquire a mouse.”

Nodding, Jesse gestured to the rows of cages. “Have a look. I’ll answer any questions you have.” He leaned his crutch against a wall as he moved behind a counter, bracing himself to pull some pamphlets from a shelf. “Whenever you’re ready, I have these guides about caring for your new friends. Free of charge.”

He said nothing afterward, letting Carla browse at her leisure. At times, she seemed lost in thought, often lingering at a cage while the mice inside clamored at the glass in an effort to get her attention. Eventually, Carla looked back over in Jesse’s direction. “Mr. Garrison? I think I’ve found the one I want.”

Standing, Jesse took his crutch before heading over to the cage Carla was in front of. A spotted black and white mouse was on her hind legs, pressed up against the glass of the cage. “Ah, so Polly has chosen you.”

“That’s her name?”

Jesse nodded. “There’s her, Harriett, and Julie. All from the same litter. Harriett is the agouti spotted mouse by the food dish, and Julie is the silver-spotted one grooming her mother.”

“They look lovely.”

“I do recommend taking the three of them. They’re extremely friendly. Should provide you with plenty of entertainment and companionship.”

Carla didn’t hesitate. As she purchased the necessary supplies and food for her new mice, Jesse could sense an overwhelming loneliness about her. She was sad about something. Perhaps she lost something, or someone. He was tempted to ask, but refrained, feeling it was none of his business.

________________________________________

Carla returned to the shop to get more food for the mice a month later. She had another goal as well; all month, she hadn’t been able to get Jesse out of her mind. Sure, he was a bit quirky with his entire world revolving around mice, but he was extraordinarily kind, and he seemed like he had some interesting stories to tell. After stepping into the shop, Carla waited, pretending to browse the bags of mouse food while waiting for Jesse.

Sure enough, Jesse came in from the back room, this time holding a white mouse. “Hello again,” he said, smiling.

“Hello,” Carla replied. “I... came for more food.”

“Ah. How are your mice?”

“Oh, they’re wonderful.” Finally, Carla smiled. “I never thought a mouse would enjoy being held as much as Polly. They’re all very happy and healthy. Quite naughty, too.”

“Harriett?”

“Yes! She tried taking an apple slice from the counter when my back was turned.”

“Perhaps I should’ve warned you she’s a bit of a thief. It goes beyond food, though. Don’t leave your jewelry out around her. Anything she can carry will get stashed somewhere in your house.”

“It sounds like you’ve learned that the hard way.”

“Yes. She took a marble-one I’ve kept since I was a boy. I tore apart my house looking for it.”

“Is she like a crow, then? Takes things that catch her interest and hide them?”

“When you put it like that, yes, she is a bit like a crow. I’ve noticed she acts that way when she wants attention. You’d be surprised at how attached mice can get to you with the right amount of care. Like people. Granted, there isn’t much a mouse can do in return, but I find their excitement to see me and eagerness to be held and given rides on my shoulders to be the best.”

“I’m guessing you’re not married, then?”

“I was. My wife... she’s been gone a few years. She loved mice. Even helped raise several litters.”

“I’m sorry.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, are you married?”

“I’m in the same boat as you. I was. My husband’s dead.” Carla squeezed her eyes shut, struggling not to cry. “All because of some petty disagreement between two Mafia parties.”

“Was he a member?” Jesse felt uncomfortable for asking that question, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

“No, not at all. We were out for a walk that day, and... we saw the shadows in the alleys too late. They didn’t even intend to hit him. He pushed me out of the way before I could be hit too.”

“Is this the incident that was in the newspapers? Was your husband’s name Nicholas Sellers?”

“Yes.”

Jesse opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, adjusting himself on his crutch as he thought. “I should’ve... put things together when I saw your last name. I mean, it’s a fairly common name, I didn’t—I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. I didn’t want the recognition.”

“That I can understand, and... I apologize for asking. I can’t imagine this was pleasant for you. Here-I’ll give you the mouse feed free of charge.”

“No, no, you need the business, Mr. Garrison. I’ll pay.”

“Alright. Is there... anything I can do to make up for this?”

“You don’t have to, but if you insist, I... have something in mind. Could we...” Carla paused, and drew in a breath. “Could we meet somewhere?”

“Oh? Where did you have in mind?”

“There’s a little spot in Brooklyn. It’s on the East River, not too far from the bridge—actually, go to Fedele’s Pizza. I’ll meet you there.”

“Should I dress formally? This does sound like a romantic occasion.”

“Come as you are. Frankly, the only thing fancy will be the wine.”

________________________________________

It had been a long time since Jesse dug out his more decent clothes from the closet. Carla had insisted this date wouldn’t be fancy or formal, but Jesse wanted to impress her.

He pulled a black sweater and a gray vest out. The only items that didn’t have strands of hay from the mouse cages on them, yet the vest wasn’t exactly in good condition. A massive darker gray patch adorned one of the pockets. His wife had made that patch after a mouse chewed right through the pocket. He could’ve gotten a new one, a nicer one, but this one was eternally special. When his time on Earth was done, he wanted this vest to stick around, and he hoped his son would take it when he returned from the Army.

Jesse grinned a little as he stood in front of a mirror. On his nightstand was Esther, a young mouse with snow-white fur and ruby-red eyes. She had a dry piece of corn in her paws. “What do you think?” Jesse asked. “Nice enough to impress a lady?”

Esther turned to face him, corn still in paw.

“It’s the best I’ve got. I think Carla is lonely. How I look isn’t the first thing on her mind. What’s important is being there for her. I look forward to getting to know her better.” Jesse slid a scratched-up watch in his pocket, then held out his hand. “Would you like to come? There’s no one else I’d trust to accompany me. You’re the least flighty.”

Esther didn’t hesitate to climb into Jesse’s hand. He placed her in his coat pocket, and gently stroked her head as he left the room.

The lights were out and the radio was off. Jesse locked the house door before going downstairs to the shop. He closed the blinds and hid the cash register in a large, securely locked cabinet. The mice were all safe in their cages. Some were playing, some were grooming, and some were giving jealous looks to Esther as Jesse passed by them.

“I’ll return in a few hours,” Jesse said. “Behave yourselves.” After adjusting his hat, he left the shop, locking the door behind him. He paused to give a last look at his home, then tried the door to make sure it was indeed locked, relieving his anxiety in the process.

He turned to the Manhattan street. Gold and red and orange leaves rushed by as a breeze came through. A deep pinkish-red hue was slowly being enveloped by a dark blue sky as the sun set below the western horizon. Across the street, people were leaving their businesses for the night. Lights turned out, one by one.

Jesse walked to a street corner, drinking in the lively city around him. He looked down at Esther, hoping the noise wasn’t too much for her. The mouse’s ruby eyes were wide with amazement, but she showed no signs of wanting to jump and flee.

It didn’t take very long for Jesse to hail a taxi. A feeling of excitement began stirring in his stomach, though that excitement was tinged with nervousness. Sure, he liked Carla as a person, but a date after only meeting twice? Well, it’s the only way we’ll get to know each other to see if we’ll work.

The taxi smelled heavily of cigars and perfume. The curious Esther had her head out of Jesse’s pocket, sniffing the air. She then crawled out, climbing up Jesse’s shoulder to smell the leather of the seats.

The driver looked at Jesse in the mirror. “Beg pardon, sir, but . . . is that a mouse?”

“Yes. She’s mine,” Jesse replied. “I raise fancy mice. Taking this one to . . . meet a friend.”

The driver grinned. “Just don’t let her chew anything.”

“She won’t. I promise.”

When they stopped in Brooklyn, Jesse gave the driver a generous tip. His excitement hadn’t slowed down a bit. His curiosity about the type of person Carla was burned with the same intensity it had when he first met his wife twenty years ago. Did she have a sense of humor? Could she tolerate his love of mice? What was her family like? Could she help him run his business?

A dark-red band was all that remained on the western horizon as Jesse walked along a path on the East River. He kept mumbling the name of the pizzeria to himself. The excitement suddenly turned to nervousness as he prayed he wasn’t too late or too early.

When he spotted the bright signs advertising Fedele’s Pizza, he breathed a sigh of relief, and quickened his pace. A second, lighter feeling of relief came over him when he saw a lone woman sitting inside the building. He stepped in, taking off his hat, and nodding to Carla. “Good evening, ma’am.”

“Good evening, sir.” Carla smiled up at him. She stood, and called, “Mr. Petrelli! He’s here.”

An older gentleman came in from the kitchen, holding a bottle of wine and a pair of glasses. “Right on time.” He handed the bottle to Carla. “As you requested, authentic Italian Merlot, 1892.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“And—” Fedele Petrelli went back into the kitchen, and returned a second later, “the bread and cheese. Is there anything else you need?”

“Not at the moment. We’ll let you know if we do.”

“Enjoy your date, then.”

Carla turned to Jesse. “To be honest, I’m a bit surprised you made it.”

“Oh?” Jesse raised an eyebrow.

Carla gestured for them to go outside. They walked a short distance from the restaurant, and sat at a picnic table under a single tree. The lights of Manhattan glinted on the water stretching before them. Carla opened the wine, and glanced around to make sure they were alone. “I’ve done this before.”

“Done what before?” asked Jesse.

“Asked men I hardly knew on dates. Dates at this exact spot. I started a month after my husband died. Can you guess how many actually followed through on my request?”

“Not many.”

“Two.”

“Two? And how many did you ask in total?”

“Six. Seven, including you.”

Jesse gave her a sympathetic look. “I don’t wish to make any assumptions, but... I had the sense you were lonely, but not that lonely.”

“Yes. Why do you think I wound up getting a trio of mice?”

“You gave up.”

“I did. I also didn’t want to be seen as someone who ‘sleeps around,’ because I knew that would reach my son. He already doesn’t talk to me as often as I wished.”

“I’m sorry. May I ask... where is your son?”

“Drafted. I don’t know his exact location, but he’s somewhere in North Africa.”

“That’s funny. So is mine. I think the odds of them being in the same platoon are small, but... that’s still amusing.”

“Does he still talk to you?”

“As much as he can. I have more letters than I know what to do with. We never had a reason to stop talking in the first place.”

“Your wife’s death didn’t disrupt your relationship?”

“No. He was depressed for a while. I relegated the task of socializing baby mice to him for that time, because I found taking care of something else, namely a living creature, gives one a purpose, a reason to keep going and healing.”

“How did you fare?”

Jesse looked down at the glass of Merlot. The wine was a delicate balance of sweet and tart, like a cherry. He absentmindedly swirled it in the glass. “I sometimes wish I had died in the crash instead of Abbie. Or at least died with her. When you’re married to someone for so long, especially when you truly, deeply love them, it’s like part of yourself dies with them. It’s almost like... it-it doesn’t seem right to keep living without them.”

“Yet you kept going.”

“I guess it was because of my son, and the mice. If I were to go, I can’t imagine what that would do to Paul, and I don’t want to think about what would happen to the mice. They’re so used to people that setting them loose would kill them. I felt like I still had a purpose. I mean, I’ve been lonely, but... I keep getting up in the morning.”

“That takes strength. Something I didn’t have for a while.”

“The fact that you’re here today tells me you have a lot of strength. More than you probably realize.”

Finally, a smile crossed Carla’s face. She held her hand out to Jesse, who took it gently. “Thank you.”

“For what? I’m merely stating the truth.”

“Oh, I know, but that’s the first time anyone since my husband said that.” Carla’s smile grew wider. “He said it takes someone with a lot of strength to put up with a very young child and my mother-in-law at the time.”

“I can imagine it does.” Jesse grinned, glancing down again at his half-empty glass of wine. “My wife’s parents were a bit hesitant with me because of my business. They assumed I had a filthy home. Not sure touring my shop helped, but they gave her away at the wedding regardless. I think that’s because Abbie threatened to have the ceremony without them if they didn’t give me their blessing.”

“She sounded headstrong.”

“She was, and her incredible gentleness and love balanced that out. The mice were as attached to her as they are to me. I think they knew something was wrong the day after the accident. Many of them expressed their own forms of grief. Some were back to normal within a day. Others... weren’t. There was a litter Abbie had raised after the mother passed away. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I’m not opposed to the idea that they actually died of broken hearts.”

“That’s horrible.”

“It is, but they loved her. They saw her as their mother. Only one lived, and I think that’s because I had to take him out of the cage and raise him myself when he matured.” Jesse reached into his pocket to take out Esther. “That mouse was Esther’s father.”

Carla set down her wineglass to let Esther climb into her palm. “She’s lovely. Looks like a little patch of snow.”

“Abbie loved white mice for that reason. She had a couple that she rescued from her college’s lab when they had no further use for them. They were going to be put down when she offered to take them. Esther is one of their descendants.”

“You were incredibly lucky to find someone who loved your work.”

“I was. I tried not to have our lives revolve around the mice too much. Having Paul certainly changed that. Somehow, we managed to find time for each other. Every summer, we’d travel up to Amsterdam and stay for a week. When Paul was old enough, he joined us. Christmas was nothing short of magical with the two of them. But that all feels like a lifetime ago.”

Carla watched Esther sniff the air for a minute before handing her back to Jesse. She lifted her wineglass to her lips, staring out at the river, listening to it lap at the banks. “This has been amazing.”

“I’m glad. I was a little afraid you’d be disappointed with me.”

“Oh? How so?”

“I’m a widower who raises mice. Surely, there’s nothing interesting about that. I can’t take you around the world, or make you rich beyond your wildest dreams.”

Carla smiled at him. “I had travel and wealth with Nicholas. Words can’t express how much I appreciate his love. The last thing I want to do is disrespect his memory, but I don’t think I’d be doing that here. The one thing you two have in common is your kindness and willingness to listen. That’s all I want.”

“If that is all you want,” Jesse picked up the Merlot bottle to add a little more to both his glass and Carla’s, “then I will give you that and more.”