Page 18 of Finding Yesterday

“Claire, darlin’…” She points to the gift in my hands. “If you’re even thinkin’ about handing that back to me, I’ll tan your hide.”

I chuckle, setting the present down on the counter as she comes in for a hug. “If you need anything, you let me know, okay?”

“I will.” I pat her back as I pull away. I know people always offer to help when someone’s down on their luck. But Shirley means it, and I know she’d do whatever she could to help me out. “Thank you.”

“Mr. Jack sure is cute.” She winks.

Fantastic. That’s the rumor, and Shirley’s part of the mill. I need to shut that down right quick. “Is he?” I put a finger on my chin. “I guess I could see that, but he’s not really my type.”

“Okay.” She smacks her gum. “Well, in case hebecomesyour type, you let me know, now. We need somethin’ to keep that boy back in Blue Vine. His grandpapa needs him.”

“I don’t think that will be me, but if it is, I’ll keep you posted.”

Before I know it, I’m leaving Boon’s with Shirley’s gift, a chocolate milkshake, and another to-go container, this time filled with fries.

After a few more stops with no one letting me give them back anything, I head to Daddy’s. Emma wants me to taste his new wine, then I’ll take her a few cases if it makes the cut.

Parked in Daddy’s driveway, I sit and look at my backseat stuffed with presents, and I can’t help but to choke up. When your heart’s been shattered and your life is in pieces, Blue Vine is the place where folks will help you put it back together again.

* * *

WHEN I GOinside Daddy’s house, he’s not here. I’m sure he’s working in the vineyard. I continue outside, making my way past the apple trees, which have buds that’ll ripen in the fall. Their sweet fruity smell fills the air as I scan each row of vines, calling for Daddy. He doesn’t answer, so I look farther down the fields, seeing Nate in the distance with Uncle Ozzie, Daddy’s brother.

Uncle Oz lives down the road and runs the vineyard with Daddy and Nate. Without Uncle Oz, Blue Vine would practically grind to a hault. He helps out at the town bar, the vineyards, and donated money to make sure Blue Vine had a medical center.

There’s more salt than pepper in my uncle’s hair since I’ve seen him last, and I realize I need to visit him more often. I didn’t get to see him at my non-wedding. I call out his name and wave, and he waves back but doesn’t stop working. He must be in a rush to finish his work before sunset.

I continue along, peering down more rows, but still no Daddy. That’s odd since his car’s in the garage.

I decide to go to the tasting room where I’ll find Emma’s wines for myself. Fumbling with my keys, I approach the old barn Daddy converted into a tasting room, which now has the upgraded heavy oak barn doors.

I hear Daddy’s voice inside, which is strange because the tasting room should be closed right now. I slide the barn doors open before walking in. Daddy’s standing behind the counter pouring a wine sample to Jack Brady, who’s sitting on a barstool.

“Hey, guys,” I say, surprised. Approaching them, I inhale the scent of cherries, oak, and citrus, my favorite smell. I love Daddy’s tasting room for just that reason. Well, that and the indoor balcony where you can walk the barn’s perimeter, enjoying the bird’s-eye view of the barrels, the selections of wine, and the signage from old Blue Vine that Mama collected. “What trouble are you guys up to?”

“Claire, guess what?” Daddy asks. “Jack’s here because he’s thinking about carrying our wine at The Fine Bone!”

“That’s great.” Did I actually make a sale bringing that bottle to Jack’s grandfather? I step next to Jack at the counter, noticing his dark hair is a bit ruffled and he’s in a plaid jacket and jeans. He looks nice when he’s casual, although he also looked pretty dang good in a vest and suit pants too. But dressed like this, he looks like he’s always lived in Blue Vine.

I peer over Jack’s shoulder to see the bottle Daddy’s holding. The barn smells of fruit and earth, but the hints of sandalwood and fresh soap are definitely coming from Jack. It pulls me closer. “Which one are you selecting, Jack?”

“Our red zinfandel!” Daddy yells. He always talks too loudly, and it only gets worse when he’s excited.

“Good choice.” Yes, that was what I took Max to sample. I slide into the iron-back barstool next to Jack. “It pairs well with T-bones or rib eyes.”

“That’s what I thought.” Jack taps a finger on the wine menu before he flashes me a smile that lights up his entire face, including the flecks of gold in his eyes that I’d never noticed before today.

“That’s my girl.” Daddy chuckles, wiping off the counter. Looking at Jack, he says, “Even though Claire doesn’t eat meat, she knows good and well how to prep and serve it.”

“Really?” Jack puts his nose just above the glass as he swirls.

“Yes, sir.” Daddy leans on his elbows. “Claire’s a mighty good cook.” A sad smile washes over Daddy’s face. “She got it from her mama, one of the best.”

When Jack looks at me, his eyes darken. Then his gaze wavers, and he shifts away from me. His voice is low when he says, “I didn’t know Millie was a good cook.”

“Yeah, she was.” I meet his gaze, and there’s something about the way he’s looking at me that tells me this is much more than a conversation about cooking. “She taught me a few things. I mean, I was little, but some of it stuck with me.”

My mother, Millie, and his grandmother, Hannah, were very close. After Mama married Daddy, she fell out of touch with her parents, who’ve both passed now. They were deeply religious and disapproved of Mama marrying outside their faith. So, Hannah took Mama in, and they became inseparable.

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