When the waiter arrived Dick ordered for both of them and Conchita was glad he did. The menu was in a language she didn’t understand. Dick must have known it because he said, “I learned French when I worked on a win-yard when I was younger.”
“Oh, that must have been fun.”
“There was a lot of work and wine to drink. I learned about the wine-making process, but I could never have my place.”
“Why not?” She took a sip from the wine and at first, she thought it tasted horrible, but then she had another drink and it tasted better.
“Too much work and worries. I prefer construction; you are not in the hands of nature. Your farm can only produce if the weather lets it.”
She nodded and remembered one year when the rains came late and they lost half of their crop.