Blush - Jamie Brenner Page 0,84
run almost dry and you just have to keep going on faith . . .
Who? Maybe her mother. She waited until the teakettle whistled, until her mother filled their mugs with boiling water, to say, “Can I ask you something?”
Her mother walked over, sliding the mug across the surface of the island. “Be careful—I let it get a little too hot. And yes, of course you can ask me something.”
Typically, her mother tended to avoid difficult conversations. Aside from the recent crisis with the winery, Vivian preferred to keep conversation on the surface of things. Vivian liked things to look a certain way, to be a certain way. And if they weren’t, well, better to just pretend than to bring any conflict or ugliness in the light where it could shine. But after hours of talking about the book, she felt things had loosened up.
“I was wondering,” Leah said slowly, “if there was ever a time in your marriage when it felt like things had just . . . I don’t know. Run out of gas.”
Vivian stirred a small spoon in her teacup. When she finally spoke, it was looking down at her tea.
“You and Steven are having problems,” her mother said.
“I don’t know if ‘problems’ is the right word. It’s more of a . . . disconnection.”
Her mother moved her spoon with unnecessary vigor, making a loud clanking noise.
“Mom—please. You’re going to break that thing,” Leah said. Vivian stopped, startled, as if she hadn’t realized what she’d been doing.
“There’s a time in every relationship when one or the other person is dissatisfied,” Vivian said. “The key to a lasting marriage is that the desire to end it never occurs to both parties at the same time.”
“Wait—you thought about leaving Dad?” She tried to keep her tone even so Vivian didn’t clam up, but she couldn’t hide her surprise.
“That’s not what I’m saying. And this is about you,” she said. “I certainly hope your decision to stay here for so long isn’t causing problems. As much as I love having you here, I wouldn’t want it to be at the expense of your marriage.”
“No, no. I mean, in all honesty, it’s not helping. But the problems started before the summer. Steven and I . . . it’s like we’re roommates. Roommates who love each other, but . . .”
“I see.” Vivian got up from the island and moved to the counter, looking out the window at the pool. When she turned around to face her, her expression was troubled. “You should return to the city. This week.”
“Mom, it’s okay. Now I’m sorry I said anything. Everything’s fine. We’re just going through a phase, I guess.”
Vivian shook her head, her brow furrowed in consternation.
Leah reached out and touched her hand. “Really—it’s fine. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“It’s not that. I need to tell you something, but please don’t say a word to your father.”
“Okay. I won’t.”
“There’s another offer on the winery. I think this time it’s for real.”
She looked more distraught than the first time she told Leah they were selling.
“Mom, you can’t roller coaster like this. It’s not good for you. At some point, you might just have to accept that Dad’s selling.”
Vivian sipped her tea, her hands shaking. “It’s not just that he’s selling. It’s who he’s selling to. It’s someone who partnered with him briefly in the eighties. Delphine’s uncle.”
“Didn’t that business relationship end badly?”
“Yes. It did.” Vivian pressed her hand to her forehead.
“Mom, it’s going to be okay.”
“I don’t know about that, Leah,” Vivian said, her expression pained.
Leah didn’t know what to say. There was nothing to say. But maybe, just maybe, there was something she could do.
Thirty-nine
The past was the past. It was very important that Vivian hold on to that fact. On the day the baron was scheduled to arrive for an extended visit, the winery closed to the public so he could explore the property in private. His arrival was set for noon, and lunch was being prepared on the veranda.
Leonard took her hand as they descended the stairs. Midway down, the grand entrance hall in view, she nearly swooned from anxiety. She leaned into Leonard for support, and he squeezed her hand, thinking she was being affectionate.
Outside, she broke into a sweat even though it wasn’t especially hot, her dress clinging to her back. Vivian had been uncharacteristically uncertain about what to wear. She decided on a navy shift dress, Chanel flats, and a vintage gold and mother-of-pearl necklace from Van Cleef.
They