Christmas in Wine Country (10 page)

“I get the picture.” Lila groaned into her hands.

“So, yeah, you should pretty much assume people have seen it.”

“I bet Jake Endicott’s seen it.” Lila spoke to her cupped hands. “He made fun of me this morning.”

“Jake Endicott?”

“Yeah.” Lila rubbed her eyes. “I ran into him at the Peets on route one.”

“You sound so unhappy about that. Most girls around here break their toes tripping over themselves to run into him.”

“He’s just so… unpleasant. So smug and full of himself.”

“You know, Lila, I think you need to own this video more. You need some of this—” Hand up on her hip, Annie gave it some swagger: “Yeah, that’s right. I brought it. And I’ll bring it some more if you don’t watch out.” Dropping the attitude in favor of some old-fashioned finger-pointing, she continued, “There are wanna-be starlets out there would kill to have a YouTube video a couple thousand people watched. They’d be down in LA shopping it around right now, pitching a new reality show: Karaoke Party Crashers.”

“That could go on right after Jersey Shore.”

“For the classy viewers,” Annie agreed. “But, seriously, I bet people fantasize about quitting their job with a big ‘up yours’ at the holiday party, getting super drunk and going for it with karaoke. It’s priceless.”

“Only I didn’t quit, I was fired.”

“Details.”

“OK, well remind me to hire you as my publicist if I ever want to work on my image,” Lila said, appreciating, as always, Annie’s ability to take things in stride. Never her own strong suit, however, she still felt caught in the grip of mortification. Short of getting a massive personality transplant—and who knew where to find the surgeon for that procedure, never mind getting your insurance to cover it—she didn’t see herself acquiring Annie’s rock-solid confidence and self-image anywhere in the near future.

All Lila wanted was a quiet little job in a quiet little bookstore and a whole lot of sipping chocolate. That couldn’t be too much to ask for, could it?

Chapter 4: Get Into the Groove

Reclining on Annie’s overstuffed floral sofa, Lila took another sip of some heavenly red wine. She lacked the vocabulary of a wine connoisseur and hadn’t had much experience with the stuff, preferring fruity, girly wine coolers in college and uber sophisticated gin and tonics in the city. Closing her eyes, she took another sip and thought…velvety. Maybe a hint of cherries?

It was Friday night and Pete had gone out to the local bar with a couple of guys from work. Lila had come over to keep Annie company and had ended up putting Charlotte to bed. Reading her
Goodnight Moon
in the rocking chair, Lila had wondered at the peace and trust radiating from the plump 16 month old whose eyes had fluttered, then shut as Lila rocked.

“Enjoying that?” Annie asked, returning from the kitchen with some misshapen pieces dark chocolate, one of the perks of her job.

             
“Oh my,” Lila agreed, taking another sip of the wine.

             
“It’s an Endicott cab.”

             
“Cab?”

             
“That’s what you have to call cabernet sauvignon now that you live in wine country,” Annie explained. “And you have to start developing strong opinions. And using words like ‘bold’ and ‘versatile’ to describe wine with a straight face.”

             
With a smile, Lila agreed, “I’ll work on it. I’m going to make some French onion soup tomorrow. This would go so well with it.”

             
“There you go! Already pairing your wines.” Annie gave Lila a crash course in wine pairing, which essentially seemed to mean eating something that tasted good with what you were drinking.

Lila took another sip. “Maybe I’ll try some chili, too, this weekend.” Life these days was all about soup. Minestrone with little meatballs and spinach added at the last minute. Butternut squash with granny smith apples and a dollop of plain yogurt in the middle. Vegetable chicken with barley just the right amount of chewy. After years of never cooking, Lila had gone soup-happy, trying out recipes from a local cookbook as well as Gram’s vault.

“And bring some in for Godfrey?” Annie asked.

“I think he’s starting to expect it.” Lila had gotten in the habit of bringing in some soup to the shop for lunch, a Tupperware container for her and one for Godfrey. He really looked like he could use some soup. They never took their lunches together—someone always needed to be out on the floor—but he had started asking at the end of the day, “What are we having tomorrow?”

“So Charlotte went right to sleep with you,” Annie remarked. “She usually just wants me or her Grandma.”

“It was so sweet.” Lila loved how comfortable Charlotte was growing with her. They were spending a lot of time together these days; Lila had even babys
a
t one afternoon last week when Annie needed to run a few errands. Charlotte had strong opinions on a variety of topics and liked to express them in a near constant and incomprehensible st
r
eam of babble. Lila and she would engage in full-fledged conversations about absolutely nothing while stacking blocks or arranging teddy bears.

“She’s sweet when she’s asleep,” Annie laughed. “That one’s a talker. I wonder where she got that from?” Annie asked, tongue firmly placed in her cheek.

Taking another sip, Lila’s eyes lit up. “Hey! How about not just coffee in the shop, wine too?” Over the past couple of weeks, Annie had been talking quite a bit about the coffee shop she planned to open one day. Her excitement was contagious and Lila had definitely caught the bug.

“Hmm,” Annie sat back with the idea. “I like where you’re going with this.” As the clock ticked softly up on the mantle, the two friends drank wine and hatched extravagant plans for the café. Before the night was out, they’d finished that bottle of wine and decided that they’d co-own the coffee shop. It would feature gourmet coffee, local wine, handmade chocolate, French pastries, New York-quality bagels and local art. For music, they’d alternate between live music and 80s hits personally selected by Lila.

“This is going to be so epic.” Annie offered her glass.

“It is going to Rock.” Lila clinked her glass, toasting to their new endeavor.

*
             
*
             
*

Gazing out the window of her apartment cozied up with her morning tea, Lila realized it wasn’t raining. January had produced a nearly constant downpour. Today, however, it was February. Seized suddenly with the urge to go for a run, she pulled on her sneakers and sweats, scooped up her hair into a ponytail and headed outside.

The mist felt cool on Lila’s cheeks as she set out in the morning fog. She decided to take the flat, paved, touristy path alongside the ocean. She was itching to start
exploring some of the twisty, winding trails that snaked all over a local map she’d tacked up on her kitchen corkboard. That would have to wait, however, until the end of the rainy season when they turned from mud slides back into trails.

Striding along what amounted to the edge of a cliff, Lila felt the giddiness of a hamster released from its treadmill. Touristy path though it was, it still offered postcard-perfect views of the rocky coastline. And what was this strange sensation of passing scenery? Fresh air? Where was the fluorescent lighting of her gym? The pumped-in air, the rows of flashing TVs? And how about that constant thump of techno?

She’d been vaguely aware that the San Francisco Bay Area was world-renown for its natural beauty, but work deadlines, a tight budget and all her vacation time spent visiting family back East hadn’t exactly lent itself to a lot of exploring. Now that she was out on a path with lazily circling seabirds above and crashing surf below, she had no idea what she’d been doing with her time.

Adding a bit more spring to her step, she filled her lungs with air. She’d taken nearly a month off from her—yes, she’d admit it—obsessive exercise schedule and yet felt fantastic. She should sit around moping more often.

She hadn’t just been moping, though, Lila thought, sticking up for herself to herself. She’d been working at her new job. Each day had ebbs and flows and Lila enjoyed adjusting to the current that never sped too fast. Marion assured her things would pick up once spring had sprung, but Lila enjoyed puttering around the gardening section as she shelved a how-to guide and peeked at the chapter on homegrown heirloom tomatoes, or paging through a book of black-and-white local nature photography while ostensibly manning the cash register.

Lila’s favorite section was the children’s place. Comprised of a train table and a big arm chair surrounded by several bean bags, it wasn’t anything fancy but it struck Lila as the heart of the store. Redwood Cove was the kind of town where 10-year-olds could bike downtown and sit and read books without parents being worried that they’d joined a gang. That week, she’d had a few good Harry Potter talks with some super geeky preteen boys interested in wizardry. She’d also had the privilege of introducing an eight-year-old girl to her first Nancy Drew. She’d talked with Marion about starting a storytime for little kids and Marion had instantly loved the idea. They’d put up a few fliers and placed an announcement in the local paper for next week, Lila’s big debut.

Plus, there was her steady diet of ‘fun’ reading to maintain. Marion had given her strict guidelines. “We’re not esoteric. We’re not full of ourselves. People come up to Redwood Cove to relax and have fun. Read books that people will enjoy.” Happy to oblige, Lila had been making her way through British country house mysteries; funny, self-deprecating memoirs; trashy multi-generational romantic dramas, plus all manner of nonfiction pertaining to the locale ranging from winemaking to wildflowers to The Gold Rush. Basically anything that could suitably answer the visiting tourist question, “Anything good you’d recommend?”

Adjusting her ponytail without missing a step, Lila reflected that working in the bookstore was definitely contributing to this feeling of having been set free from a habitrail. No cubicles, no staring at a computer screen for hours bathing in the pasty glow, no constant flood of !high priority! emails demanding her immediate jump to reply. And when she did use a computer to do inventory it was a clunky, decidedly unsexy black PC. She took pleasure in its heftiness, aware it would send shudders of revulsion
down the spines of everyone back at AdSales with their ever-slimmer white and silver Macbooks.

Lately she’d gotten in the habit of leaving her iPhone at home while she was at work. It felt positively naughty. She’d even gone as long as three days between checking email. No Facebook updates. God knew, no YouTube uploads. As crushing as it had been to be fired and dumped in one week, it did have the perk of leaving her unfettered. She guessed that was the up side of no one wanting your time.

Which wasn’t even true, she admonished herself to herself again. Annie and Charlotte wanted her time. It wasn’t exactly a raucous social life, but these days it was just about her speed. Annie had suggested setting her up with one of Pete’s friends, but Lila had put her off with a ‘maybe in a few months.’ Annie had less than zero patience for hearing about how much she missed Phillip, and even Lila wished she could just be done with it. So far, though, she had yet to find the internal switch she could flip to turn off her emotions. If she ever did find that switch she swore she’d patent it and make a mint. 

Heated up enough to take off her windbreaker and tie it around her waist, Lila decided to keep going a while longer. She really was feeling good these days, she thought, giving her stomach a rub and realizing that it hadn’t been hurting for a couple of weeks now. She’d almost gotten used to walking around with a constant ache. Who knew why it was gone—could it be the hours and hours of sleep she was getting in her quiet, dark bedroom? The bouquet of cashmere socks she’d splurged on and insisted on wearing 24-7 unless barefoot in her fuzzy boots? Maybe it was just the absence of constantly hoping for a text from Phillip.  

             
A loud, bellowing noise to her right nearly made her lose her balance as she sprang away, startled. In the mist, she saw the outline of a fat, slug-like monster down on the rocks. Heart pounding, she wondered for a moment why no one had told her Redwood Cove had been invaded by aliens until the mists shifted and revealed, clearly, a gigantic elephant seal. Curling its head back and raising its massive whiskered jowls to the sky it bellowed again, an amazingly loud sound even given his hulking body. Lila brought her hand to her heart and laughed at the sight, so fearless and proud yet hilariously silly all at once. Three smaller seals clustered among rocks by his side and another was making his way across a sandy patch with the most awkward lumbering lurches. Lila had to wonder if they were caught in the midst of some evolutionary gap between sea monster and Bernese Mountain dog; they didn’t seem to have the whole getting-around-on-land thing down yet.

             
A trail led off to the left and she gave it a good look, wondering if she could take it. Narrow and serving as a sluice for mud, she realized she needed to wait until the rains really subsided. Then there’d be no stopping her.

Turning around, Lila doubled back on the paved path, looking forward to telling Gram about her encounter. It was Sunday, their day to talk, and she had a feeling Gram would get a kick out of hearing about a family of elephant seals. Plus, she wanted to tell her about her and Annie’s new plan to take over the world of coffeeshops—or coffee/wine/chocolate/pastry/bagel/soup shops.