Brody - Ellie Masters Page 0,4

gathers her strength. My tea grows cold and I set it aside to pull back the long drapes and open the windows. The fresh morning air blows into the room, bringing with it the fragrant aroma of her rose garden and the chirping of the birds playing in the birdbath outside.

Mom sits back and closes her eyes. The pain pills are kicking in. I get her to take the last five pills before she’s too drowsy to do so herself. Then I sit with her, holding her hand until she drifts off.

Only then do I let a tear fall.

Once she’s asleep, I take the tray to the kitchen and clean up. She didn’t eat any of the food. She’s wasting away before my eyes and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. The overhead bell gives a jingle and I glance up from cleaning the dishes.

“Hey, cupcake!” Uncle Mark waltzes in and gives me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “How is she today?”

“Sleeping.”

“Did she take her pills?”

“I made sure.”

“Did she eat?” He glances at the tray with the uneaten food.

Mom and Uncle Mark are stepbrother and sister but closer than most siblings. I never knew my grandparents. They died when Mom was twenty-one and Mark only sixteen. Mom inherited the land from her mother, got guardianship of her younger brother, and split the winery their parents built together 60/40 with Mark once he turned twenty-one. They’ve co-managed Atwood Estates ever since. Now, Mark and I co-manage the business. Mom sold me the land, keeping it in her family, for a dollar rather than risking it getting tied up in probate. I’d rather see her well, but it is what it is.

“No, but you’re welcome to it, although the eggs are cold and the fruit is warm.”

“You should eat.” He prods at me. “You’re skin and bones.”

“I’m good. If you want it, please take it. I’m just going to throw it away.”

“If you insist.” He heads to the fridge to grab the ketchup bottle. I hold back a groan as he buries the lukewarm eggs in ketchup.

“That’s so disgusting.” My nose wrinkles.

“It’s the only way to eat eggs.” He digs in while I finish the dishes. “What’s on the agenda today?”

“You tell me?”

My uncle manages the vineyard. He knows everything about the wine business and is slowly teaching me what I need to know. Since Mom got sick, he stepped up to let me focus on Mom’s medical appointments and hospitalizations as her cancer progressed.

“You look tired.” He pauses with his fork lifted halfway to his mouth. “Not sleeping again?”

“I was going over the books.”

“Ah, and that frown is concerning.”

“I don’t get how we’re losing money.”

“This is always a lean time of the year. We’ll get through. We always do. Once the harvest is done, the grapes pressed, and next year’s product is set up, you’ll see. Fall brings in the bulk of our orders, not to mention the tourists pick up.”

“Our production is down. Sales are down. Our advance orders are down, and I’m afraid we won’t make payroll. I know sales will pick up, but I don’t know how we’ll manage the gap.”

“It’s been rough with your mom’s illness, but I’m sure we can figure something out. Want me to look at the books with you? We can see where we can cut expenses.”

“That would be great.”

I can’t do this without him.

“Don’t worry, cupcake.” He scoops up the last of the eggs and winks at me. “We’ll find a way to make it through.”

“Other than laying off half our workers, I don’t see how. I’ve got an appointment with the bank on Saturday to see if we can get an extension. If they call in our debts…”

“They won’t. I’ll take a look at the books after I check in on your mother.”

“I appreciate that.” Maybe he’ll see something I don’t.

Failure weighs me down. In one year, I’ll have run the family business into the ground. It survived fire, pestilence, and drought, but I’m the one who will lose it all.

I’m missing something. Production has been steadily decreasing over the past several years. Not that I know anything about production, but something feels off. Mark finishes what’s probably his second breakfast and places the dirty dishes in the sink.

“I’m going to check in on Lucy then we’ll take a look at those books.”

“Okay, but she’s resting.”

“I won’t wake her. I just…” He hangs his head. “It’s hard seeing her like this.”

I get it. They’re close,