Page 52 of Kiss My Glass
“He’d give it to me if she had.”
Shelby rests both hands lightly on her baby bump, caressing it. As I watch, I see the bump shift, as if a tiny internal earthquake has caused the surface to ripple like a wave. It shouldn’t be a surprise, but it is. There’s a real, live baby in there! My niece-slash-nephew! The first Armstrong-Durant grandchild!
Mom’s first grandchild…
Damn it.
“You know which route she’s taking, though, don’t you?” I ask.
“I think so. She said she was starting in France, and that the whole walk is about three hundred miles. She’s spreading it out over two months, so she can get to know the towns along the way. There are set places people stop at, apparently, and she wants to spend a few days in each one.”
“There you go,” I say. “If we look online, we can figure out how far she might have come, and where the next stop is. We might even be able to find out where people doing the walk usually stay. If not, we’ll just call every hotel. We’ll track her down.”
Shelby’s smiling and frowning at me. “Are you okay with this?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I say. “It’s the right thing to do.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” says my sister. “I couldn’t have managed all this without you.”
That’s definitely not true, but I appreciate the vote of confidence. I want to tell her about taking on the crush, but Danny and I agreed that he should tell Ava first. He said he’d call her this evening, and that he hoped Chiara hadn’t beaten him to it, otherwise he’d be getting a snake bite burn first opportunity. I said I thought Chiara knew the score on that front, but he shouldn’t wait too long.
I check my phone but there’s no text from Danny yet, and I’m not sure if I want to text him first. It’s ironic. I can come up with a plan to track down my mother like I’m Carmen Sandiego, but I still can’t figure out how to navigate my own feelings.
Shelby’s cueing up episode five. I usually loveGilmore Girls,but tonight, it makes me feel like I’m gently drowning in a giant tub of molasses. Could be worse, I guess. Could be in a tub of lima bean puree.
My phone buzzes. Text from Danny.
Told Ava. She seems OK. Going 2 watch my back tho.
I text back.
Sleep with 1 eye open. C u tmrow. If u survive the night.
He texts back the scream-face emoji and two love hearts. Funny guy.
“Ready?” Shelby’s poised to hit play on the remote.
Good question. Not sure what my answer would be if she was asking me about my life. But seeing it’s about the goings on in Stars Hollow, I feel reasonably safe making a commitment.
“Sure,” I say. “Let’s do it.”
ChapterTwenty-Eight
DANNY
Ava took the news better than expected. I suspect Cam has been quietly but firmly advising her against taking on too much. And from what Nate’s told me, organizing the crush party is a lot of work. I’ve never been to it but it sounds like it’s going to be huge. Up to three hundred locals of all ages setting up picnic blankets in and around the vines, the grapes having been harvested a couple of weeks before. People can bring their own food or buy what’s on offer. Iris from the Cracker Café grills Cuban sandwiches on site. Chiara’s dad owns a business that supplies Italian pastries to restaurants, and he brings along enough cannoli to feed the entire population of Sicily. Local growers bring baskets of watermelons and peaches, cherry tomatoes, and sugar snap peas. Ted’s team at Bartons serve up non-alcoholic drinks because this is a family-friendly event. The actual crush itself is done in a line of big plastic bins, set up so everyone can watch, and anyone who’s brave enough can leap in bare-foot and help the main Flora Valley Wines crew stomp the grapes.
Nate told me that for ages, the crush party was super small, just winery workers and their families, and it was Shelby’s mom who did all the catering. Gradually, it got bigger and bigger, but it’s only possible because the community makes it so. The local businesses that provide food and drink either do it for free (Ted) or only charge enough to cover their costs. There’ve also been the odd donations from anonymous benefactors. Likely suspects are Ted (again) and more recently J. P. McRae, majority Flora Valley investor. It’s alsopossible that our dad’s now a donor as well. He and J. P. are old friends and therefore intensely competitive. Dad wouldn’t consider for a second investing in anything as flaky as a family winery, even one run by his own son, but he’ll match every cent J. P. donates to charity. And let’s face it, Flora Valley Wines is as close to a charity as you can get without actually standing on the street corner rattling a donation box.
All the more reason for the crush party to be a success. Having strong connections to its community is how most small businesses survive. Because that’s how they become the businesses locals recommend to visitors. This might sound strange coming from a car salesman, but my business depends on a community, too, of car enthusiasts and mechanics and parts suppliers and restorers. I’m a competent mechanic myself but I’m always coming up against stuff I don’t know or can’t figure out. For every favor I ask, I make a point to give back whenever I can. And I don’t expect every favor I do to be returned. Generosity isn’t weakness. It’s the oil that keeps relationships running sweetly.
And generosity doesn’t have to be a big sweeping gesture, either. Sometimes it’s as simple as bringing a super stressed person coffee. Especially when that person is me.
I’ve run out of ground coffee for the machine. Should have picked some up in Verity yesterday but I did not. I got a pickleball paddle and four yellow plastic balls, and they are caffeine-free. It’s only six in the morning, too early to walk to Nate and Shelby’s.
Okay, so I’m pacing up and down. Is there a word like hangry for being coffee deprived?Stresspresso? Ragey-au-lait?
That’s it. I’m walking to Nate and Shelby’s. Coffee brewing is quiet. I won’t wake anyone. Unless Shelby’s ancient coffee pot finally explodes.
