Blush - Jamie Brenner Page 0,35

books, Sadie detected a hint of rebellion. Where was that spirit now that the winery was on the line? Her grandmother had loved stories of outrageous women, but she had played it safe in her own life. Sadie didn’t want to see her grandmother’s story end like this.

She didn’t want to see her own story end like this, either—back on campus for the summer, with a failed thesis and a breakup and no job.

What, exactly, was she rushing back to?

* * *

Leah walked to the driveway where Steven was packing up the car.

“You weren’t even going to say goodbye?” she said.

He slammed the trunk closed. “Don’t start, Leah,” he said.

“I’ll probably be home as early as next weekend,” she said.

“What’s going to change with your mother between now and next weekend?”

“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Don’t lawyer me, Steven.”

“I’m not ‘lawyering’ you—that’s a legitimate question. I just get the feeling you’re looking for an excuse to spend time apart.”

“I’m not.” But was she? Alone at the vineyard, she wouldn’t have to make decisions about the cheese shop. She wouldn’t have to deal with her flagging sex life. At the vineyard, she actually felt younger: spending most of the day outdoors, surrounded by the sights and sounds of her childhood. Nature changed with the seasons, but it always rejuvenated. Some plants even got better with age; an older grapevine produced less fruit, but what it did produce was higher quality than the fruit of young vines.

Her love and attachment to the vineyard, something she had tried to forget about for so long, had boomeranged back to her. That was the oddest thing about middle age: the past could sometimes feel more potent, more relevant, than the present. Life was like tossing a ball into the ocean. She thought the past was the past, but then it came riding back on a wave and lying at her feet.

The truth was that she wasn’t just staying for her mother. She was staying because she wasn’t ready to say goodbye for good. Why did she think this would be so difficult to admit to her husband? Sometimes in marriage you didn’t have to have total understanding, just acceptance. Still, something held her back.

“You know, it’s not the worst thing in the world for you to drive back with Sadie,” she said. “Have some father-daughter time.”

Steven’s expression brightened. “That’s true.” He checked his phone. “Where is she? I told her to be out here by now.”

The front door opened, and Sadie walked out, sunglasses on but without her travel bag.

“Hey,” she said, jogging over to the car. “Sorry I’m late. I was trying to say goodbye to Gran.”

Trying?

“All right, let’s get on the road,” Steven said, opening the passenger-side door.

Sadie made no move toward the car. “Actually, Dad, I’ve decided to stay.”

Part Two

Bloom

I have known more than one woman living in an imaginary dream world, rather than face the reality of her own life.

—Shirley Conran

Eighteen

The photograph was the last thing Vivian looked at before she went to sleep every night, and the first thing she saw when her eyes opened in the morning.

The image on her nightstand, framed in sterling silver, was of her children in the 1970s, sitting on the steps of the veranda, the lush green of the vineyard in the background. Asher wore a lightweight summer blazer, and Leah wore a madras plaid dress, her long dark hair in a braid. She’d had more than one photographer tell her that her family looked as perfect as a Ralph Lauren ad. From the outside, her entire life looked as perfect as a Ralph Lauren ad. But things were never truly as they appeared.

She sat up with a sudden realization: the photo by her bedside was just one of hundreds like it in albums shelved in the library. With the potential buyers coming to poke around the property today, who knew what they would get their grubby hands on? She would have to start taking inventory of the house and hiding anything personal. She might not be able to protect her winery, but she could still guard her privacy.

The bedroom door opened.

“Mom? It’s Leah.”

“I’m sleeping.”

“No, you’re not.”

Leah walked to the windows and slid the curtains over half an inch. Vivian, having seen so little natural light over the past few days, saw spots.

“It’s a beautiful morning,” Leah said. “Come on. I know you’re upset. But I’m here and Sadie decided to stay and we want to spend time with you.”

She could barely experience the