Page 63 of Let It Breathe
“Did we lose any more members?”
Reese looked at the spreadsheet on her laptop and tried not to feel grim. “Three more today. They were all really pissed about the Pinot.”
“Well, these things happen.”
Her voice was upbeat, but Reese could hear the tension. They were all worried—about money, about the vineyard’s reputation, about the event coming up next week. She sighed and forced herself to adopt a business-as-usual tone. “Do you want to see the newsletter and the direct-mail piece before they go out?”
“You know I trust you, sweetie.”
“I know you do,” Reese said. “You still want to see it, though, right?”
“If it’s not too much trouble. Could you print it? You know how I prefer?—”
“Already done.”
“Thanks, honey. We’re down at your grandfather’s old house right now doing some cleaning. Could you bring it over here?”
“I’ll be there in five.”
Reese hung up the phone and shoved the papers in a file. She closed her office door and passed Eric as she made her way past the stacks of barrels in the winery. “I’m heading out,” she called. “Can you lock up when you leave?”
“No sweat. So you’ve got a hot date?”
Reese rolled her eyes. “Are there families where relatives don’t inform ex-husbands about every detail of the ex-wife’s love life? Because if there are, I’d like to join one.”
“I think it’s great,” he said as he clapped her on the shoulder. “It’s about time you got out of your rut and got serious about dating again.”
“Have you always sounded like a self-help book or is this a new thing?”
“You know you love me.”
“Not especially, but that didn’t stop me from marrying you.” She grinned to show she was teasing but stopped grinning when Eric regarded her with a serious expression.
“It’s not just about love, you know.”
Reese stopped walking. “What isn’t?”
“Marriage.”
She snorted. “Since I don’t ever plan to do that again, I don’t see why it matters.”
“I’m just saying. Relationships are a lot of work. Look at me and Sheila. Not a day goes by that we don’t work at it.”
“Please don’t feel you need to share the details of how you work at it.”
Eric laughed. “Have a good date, Riesling.”
“Piss off,” she replied without venom. She headed out the door and down the hill toward Axl’s old place.
The front door stood wide open, and Reese could hear voices near the back of the house. The smell of popcorn drifted from the kitchen, and Reese hesitated in the doorway.
“Mom? Dad?”
“We’re back here, honey! You’ll never guess what we found in a box in Grandpa’s old linen closet.”
“I’m afraid to ask,” she muttered, moving through the entryway past a long row of photographs. There were several shots of Axl as a young man working at a vineyard in Italy, followed by one of her grandparents on their honeymoon in Mexico sporting matching tattoos. She kept walking, her gaze drifting past images of Larissa’s parents in Bali and some shots of June as a young girl.
Toward the end of the hall her mom had grouped another set of images, these more recent—one of her parents on a beach in Maui, arms wrapped around each other as the sun set over the ocean; another of her mom perched on her dad’s shoulders plucking apples from the orchard; another shot showed June and Jed beaming at each other as they twirled jump ropes in double-Dutch fashion while Larissa and Reese spun in giddy circles between them.
