Blush - Jamie Brenner Page 0,67

Where was her daughter going at that hour? She stopped walking, and Leah waved her over.

“Hey,” Sadie said.

“What’s up?”

“Just . . . going for a drive.”

Leah’s maternal antennae went up. “Everything okay?”

“Yes—all good,” Sadie said, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek. “See you in the morning.”

Leah’s phone rang—Steven.

“It’s your father,” Leah said. But Sadie was already walking away. “Hey,” she said into the phone.

“Hey,” he said. “A customer has a special order and I think it’s from that farm that doesn’t have email?”

Okay. All business.

“I can take care of it tomorrow. Just text me what she wants. How’s it going otherwise?”

“Fine. How about you?”

“Oh, the drama continues. Did you get my text earlier? The buyer backed out. I think my mother sees it as a reprieve. But in reality, the longer this stretches out—”

“Leah, it’s going to be a long haul. I know you have good intentions, but you can’t see this through to the end. Come home. I miss you.”

She looked up at the quarter moon, thinking that he was under the same moon. They weren’t that far apart. A firefly alighted in the distance. Could she leave, knowing she could maybe do something to help? She was torn. All she knew was that she wanted both—to stay at the winery and to make Steven happy. But she couldn’t have both. She couldn’t have it all. Life, especially midlife, was all about understanding that.

“I’ll come home soon,” she said.

“How about this weekend? I’ll come out and pick you up.”

This weekend? That was so soon. But Steven was probably at his limit. Past his limit.

She nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see her. “Okay. Great. Sounds like a plan.”

When she hung up, she felt a rush of anxiety.

The truth was, it didn’t matter what kind of ideas she had. Her father would never change. He’d never once asked about Bailey’s Blue beyond a cursory “How’s that little store of yours?” As if she were selling trinkets. Never mind that cheese was arguably as complex as wine. That maintaining a business in New York City was one of the biggest retail challenges imaginable. That she was as knowledgeable in her field as he was in his own. Okay, she didn’t create cheese. But she knew it, she knew it in a way that let her find the perfect variety for each customer. She had inspired more happy pairings than Match.com! And more, she understood the symbiotic relationship between cheese and wine. She doubted her father knew Kunik from Cottage.

Leah stood and began to pace. She thought about the English Wensleydale from the shop in town and wondered why her parents didn’t offer cheese boards at the winery.

In Chances, Lucky had waited for an opening, for a moment of her father’s weakness. Then she stepped in and made it her business to learn everything about his business. She made decisions. In some cases she completed his vision; in other areas she had her own. She didn’t wait for permission. She didn’t apologize.

Leah grabbed her phone and scheduled a reminder to herself to make a run back to Village Cheese the next day. She still had a few more days before Steven arrived.

She wasn’t done yet.

* * *

Walking over to Field House at that hour of the night was a crazy thing to do. Sadie knew this, but still she went.

There was no guarantee that if she knocked on the door of the Arguetas’ home, Mateo would be the one to answer. Even if he did, what was she going to say? But if she didn’t do something, she would be up all night. She couldn’t stop thinking about the jolt when they’d looked at each other in the field. Mateo had felt it, too. That was why he’d said, This can’t happen.

That was it, that was what she would say: “Why can’t this happen?”

Did he have a girlfriend? Was it the age difference? She needed to know. She had to understand the stumbling block before she could get it out of their way.

The winery was linked to Field House by a slate path framed by a white wooden pergola filled with winding greenery and purple wisteria. She’d walked by it her whole life, but she’d never walked through; she didn’t have reason to visit Field House. So what she didn’t know was that at the end of the path, just before the house, was a locked gate.

“So annoying,” she said, reaching over the door to see if she could unlatch it.