A memory flashback
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"The glass shattered. Red wine flew. The white wall transformed: Rose polka dots bloomed."
I recounted to Annie when she asked me how Chelsea's birthday party went.
"Was it a wine glass?" She asked.
"Yes."
"Was it a clear wine glass? Was the wine red?" She continued.
"Yes." I looked at Annie strangely, wondering why she was asking me for the details of the wine glass. "Does it matter I asked?" Knowing by the sound of excitement in her voice that something was up in her bag of historical tricks and trades.
She beamed, smiled a mile wide, and laughed out loud, "You know what that means?"
"That I have to repaint my wall? Or that you have a secret to cleaning red wine stains?" I guessed.
"Nooooooooo, it means you will have a year of good fortune and happiness galore! In Provence, it is a sign of 'Bonheur' when you break a clear wine glass full of red wine at a party. What wonderful, good news! Chelsea will have a fortunate year!" She clapped her hands appreciating Chelsea's good luck.
"I love it, Great! Yahoo Chelsea!" I added. Then I folded my arms in front of my chest, put my head to the side, made a funny face, and said, "Great! But do you know how to take red wine stains off a white stone fireplace?"
"No."
"Oh, lucky me." Then we both laughed, shrugged our shoulders, then toasted each other with our tea.
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