Mr. Malbec

‘Good to meet you.  Would you mind if I take this call?  It’s my wife.’ He questioned.  He sincerely wondered if I would take offense, yet it was clear that he was going to take the call.

‘Of course.’  Whether meeting for the first time or the thousandth, whether meeting with a buyer or a brother, a call from home always takes precedence. 

Halfway through my first Malbec, he returned.  ‘Everything ok?’ I wondered aloud.  He paused, breathed a deep second breath as he stared at his hands, thinking deliberately about how he should respond.  ‘Sometimes…’ he paused, mustering the courage to choose vulnerability.  ‘…sometimes, things are hard.’  

He had done it.  He chose to step into the vulnerable.  He chose to be honest with me and with himself.  He could have chosen to whitewash his call with a more standard, ‘kids will be kids’ or ’the air conditioner seems to only break when I travel,’  but he didn’t.  He chose to tell himself the truth — things were not okay at home and he wasn’t there to make it better.  

He shared his story, digging deeper as he circled around the phone call.  He shared about the event that triggered the call, the real issue behind the call, why he promised to always answer her calls, why he felt guilty about traveling and what he was doing about all of it.  He also shared where he was at that moment — afraid of what was going on without him, guilty for not being home to fix it, embarrassed to meet this way. 

This was our introduction to one another.  We ordered another Malbec and attempted to switch gears to the original intent of our meeting, but it was too late.  He had been seen.  There was no going back. 

As a rule, vulnerability scares me.  This Tuesday was no exception.  Yet I had been invited by a man whom I didn’t know to be seen.  So I, like the man before me, stared at my hands, took a deep breath and shared my story.  

I’ve met the man multiple times since and he’s the real deal. His vulnerability was not an act, it was an invitation.  His call was not staged, it was a moment in a season to which I was a witness.  

I’ve struggled with my meeting with Mr. Malbec since that Tuesday.  I don’t want to make a practice of being that real with new acquaintances; it scares me.