Christmas in Wine Country (35 page)

             
And then there was the truly bothersome fact that, more than anything else, it had been good to see him. She liked the sound of his voice and his long, dark eyelashes and the feel of his hand on her shoulder. How might things be now if she’d turned to him in the parking lot, placed a hand against that strong chest and said “Kiss me, you fool!”?

That Sunday, Lila folded clothes from her laundry basket and listened as her Gram, on speakerphone, described that morning’s beach romp with the rescue dogs of the moment, Rudy and Minnie. “Then the sand pipers all started panicking in a big clump, zigzagging up and down the sand. And Millie found some seaweed about five times her size that she insisted on carrying around in her chompers.” Lila
pictured
the chaos, thinking if a beach were able to express emotion it would surely shudder at the sight of Gram and her ever-rotating pack of untrained wild rescue dogs.   

             
She glanced out the window and noticed the rain was still coming down. No getting around the fact that it was November now, with fog and rain and chill.

             
“We’re supposed to get three inches of snow tomorrow. And it’s going to keep raining for you through Wednesday.” Gram easily switched between her favorite topics: dogs, weather, soon to be followed by the health and babies update.

             
“You missed your calling as a reporter, Gram.”

             
“I don’t know how you do it with all those earthquakes and mudslides and fires.”

             
“I wear a Hazmat suit most days.” 

             
“It is beautiful out there, though.” Gram continued straight on, as usual, through Lila’s teasing. “And I am so glad your nice young man friend had the opportunity to apologize last week. I’m sure this has been quite difficult for him.”

             
“Do you mean…” Lila tried to recall their conversation, wondering what part of
the
infamous auction night’s events with which guy had struck Gram as an apology.

             
“It can’t be easy with an overbearing father like that.” Jake, Lila realized. “My Henry was always so easygoing, but that isn’t the way with a lot of them.”

             
“I’m not sure he was apologizing.” Lila remembered anger, frustration. A sharp coldness in Jake’s eyes as he spotted her with Phillip. The deep growl in his voice in the parking lot.

             
“It doesn’t sound to me as if things have been working out as he’d hoped. But what fun, riding off with your friends! Just like a movie!”
             
“It was,” Lila agreed, sitt
ing down on her bed
. Tucking up her feet, clad in big, wool socks, she leaned back against the wall and remembered flying through the darkness making their getaway. She could still feel the night air on her cheeks.

             
“I’m glad you’re having some fun, Lila. And the backless dress sounds divine. You said Zoe lent it to you?”

             
“I know, isn’t that funny?” Lila knew Gram was trying to piece together the image of a sexy little stretchy black number with Yoga Zoe. “She told me women don’t have to make sense.”

             
“Isn’t that the truth.” Gram’s laughter came through the phone clear and warm. Lila smiled herself, cozy in her apartment with the rain coming down. “But tell me. Have you considered Phillip’s offer to go work for him? Even for a minute?”

             
“Nope,” Lila answered honestly. “All I could keep thinking was if this guy calls me Lil
l
ian one more time I’m going to clock him.”

             
“You do have a lovely name, dear. So refined. Your mother has always wanted the best for you, you know.”

             
“Thank you, Gram.” Lila stemmed the tide of what she could sense was Gram’s revisiting of the Your Mother Loves You She Just Shows It Differently speech. “I just mean he sounded like such a salesman, trying to sweet talk me into going to work for him. And he was so insulting about my life here, like I could just pick up and leave no problem.”
             
“And you don’t feel you can?”

             
“No! There’s my job at the bookstore. Business is starting to pick up now that it’s the holiday seas
on. Zoe’s teaching a new level two
yoga class Tuesday nights
and I want to go
check
it
out
. And now that it’s winter I’m making soups again. If I didn’t bring food in for Godfrey I swear he’d disappear.”

             
“
So you didn’t consider
Phillip’s
offer?
Even though you didn’t get the store?”

             
“Even though.”

As Gram moved on into recounting Neighbor News, Lila relaxed into the familiar rhythms of her storytelling and reflected on what she’d just said: she didn’t want to leave Redwood Cove.
True, m
uch had g
one crashingly wrong
as of late
, what with the loss of the store, her closest friendship and a budding romance all in one fell swoop.
And, true, she
felt scooped-out and decimated over it all.

But
Redwood Cove
still
felt like home.
I
t was something of a revelation. She’s spent over fiv
e years in San Francisco and then
left it in a heartbeat without a moment
of regret. The thought of doing the same now, with less than a year under her belt, seemed an anathema. She truly hadn’t considered Phillip’s offer. And it hadn’t just been his pompousness, or his overt salesmanship. She didn’t want anything associated with it, the old life, the hectic pace, the city, advertising. Certainly not Phillip, himself.

             
“Heard from Annie yet?”

             
“Hmm? No.” Snapped from her reverie, Lila made her way into the kitchen to put on some tea. “I’m thinking I might give her a call.”

             
“Do, Lila. Whatever was said, it’s not important. She’s your closest friend. Bring her some banana bread and move on.”

             
“Yup, you’re right.” Lila agreed, wondering if she had some black bananas in the freezer. Peering in, she found a bag of frozen strawberries and some toaster waffles but the banana bread would have to wait. “Maybe some soup?” she considered, opening the pantry to see if she had any more of that barley/rice/spelt mix she picked up the last time she’d hit the gourmet market. Bingo; about half a cup, just enough.

             
“Perfect,” Gram agreed. “Don’t delay. Life’s too short.”

             
Sending each other their love, they ended their call, both tending to their kitchens on opposite coasts. Looking at the clock, Lila wondered if she even had time to stop by Annie’s tonight. If she got right down to business with the mirepoix—just using the French term for carrots, celery and onions always seemed to give soups an extra kick—she might be able to get things simmering by 6:30, which meant she could hop in her car around eight and arrive just after Charlotte had gone to bed. Seemed like a good plan, especially if Annie had a bit more yelling she needed to get out of her system. No need to expose the young.

             
Barely had she put a kettle on the stove for some tea and begun peeling and chopping when she was startled by a knock at the door. Lila wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and headed over to the entryway. Opening her door, she saw Annie standing in the hallway holding a plate of cookies covered in red, orange and yellow sprinkles.

             
“They’re turkeys,” Annie explained, holding the plate up for Lila’s inspection. “Charlotte and I made them this afternoon. She wanted to come with me to give them to her Auntie but I told her she could see you tomorrow. Just in case you needed to do some yelling at me tonight.”

             
Annie’s puffy coat felt about a foot thick as Lila reached her arm around for a hug.

             
Catching sight of a glisten in Lila’s eye—so pleased was she at seeing her long-lost friend—Annie cautioned, “Now don’t you cry, because then I will and you know I hate that.”

             
Lila shoed her inside, taking the cookies and wondering how long it would have taken her to guess that the misshapen lumps were turkeys if she hadn’t been told. “Letting Charlotte take charge?” she asked, holding up the plate.

             
“Pretty hard not to these days. She’s two with a vengeance. Plus she has a lot of her mother in her. Stubborn. Opinionated.”

             
“I was just putting together some chicken barley vegetable soup.” Lila gestured at her counter
top. “I was going to bring it
over to your place later tonight.”

             
“Yeah?” Annie smiled.

             
“It’s been a long couple of weeks.”

             
“Two and a half weeks,” Annie corrected. “Pete’s been after me to suck it up and apologize.”

             
“Gram’s been after me.” The bright red tea kettle began its whistle. Lila removed it from the burner while Annie took down two mugs.

             
“Are we feeling green?” Annie asked, examining a couple of varieties of green teas.

             
Selecting one with jasmine—an overall immune booster, Zoe had told her—Lila started “I’ve been wanting—”

             
“Wait,” Annie interrupted. “I want to go first.” Standing at Lila’s kitchen counter, she said, “I’m sorry—”

“I’m sorry—” Lila interjected.

“I went way too far that day we found out.”

“No, I should have just called you.”

“I was so mad. I mean,” Annie paused, running a hand through her ponytail and exhaling. “Pete stayed away from me for about a week. I wanted to burn Endicott Vineyards to the ground.”

“Arson’s never a good plan.”

“And then I heard that Jake said it was his father who bought the place.”

“You did?” 

“From Zoe who heard it from you.” Right, Lila realized, of course Zoe would have been relaying the information. “And Martin made the mistake of stopping by, trying to pitch me again on that place on Walker. I bit his head off and he told me to take it up with Big Bob.”

“Jake said the same thing at the auction.” Lila recounted what he’d said—and her outrage at it. “So it really was my fault. I mentioned it to Jake. And then what happened happened.”

“We don’t know exactly what happened. Maybe you acted like an idiot, maybe you didn’t. But even if you did,” Annie put her tea down on the counter and put a hand on each of Lila’s shoulders. “You’re my idiot friend.”

Lila smiled
. “You know, that would be a good name for a band. ‘My idiot friend.’” They used to play the game in college, stopping each other when they came across a phrase with the ironic wit favored by indie, slacker bands. My Idiot Friend would surely be heavy on the depressing, mumbly lyrics.
“But, honestly, I am sick ove
r
all
of this
.”

“I am without direction and purpose.” Annie tried
some deadpan humor but it came out simply sounding honest
.

“I feel decimated, too.”

Annie shrugged. “At least I hadn’t given notice at the chocolate shop yet.” She
took a sip of her tea. “So, you’re not leaving Redwood Cove? Even though I accused you of ruthless betrayal?”

             
“Why would you think I was moving?”

             
“I heard Phillip offered you a job.”

             
“I’m not taking it. Who would feed Godfrey?”

             
“All right, so we’ve got that covered.” Annie’s eyes caught a gleam as she nibbled her cookie. She sat down at Lila’s kitchen table. “Now I need to hear all about this auction. From you. It’s been killing me. Sounds like such a scene.”

             
“Did Zoe tell you about it?”

             
“And about four other people.” At Lila’s raised eyebrows, Annie reminded her, “This is a small town, kiddo. We don’t get these kinds of scenes that often. At least not involving one of us. A local. My favorite was Vanessa. She came into my store all, ‘Is that girl around? The one with the mousy curls? Your helper.’” Annie’s lips pursed, back arched, she did a fair impression of Vanessa—or sitting on a pin cushion and sucking a lemon. 

“Mousy curls?” Lila asked, reaching out to feel her hair, currently piled high into a ponytail.

“She said you’d caused a big scene the other night and wondered what you had to say for yourself.”

             
“Oh my God! Did you tell her to kiss off?”