A Vineyard Lullaby

by Katie Winters

The words were hurtful, yet they reeked of truth. Immediately after she said them, Audrey dropped her chin to her chest, heaved a sigh, and said, “Oh my, God. I’m so sorry for saying that.” After a pause, she added, “I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m running on fumes.”

  “It’s okay, Audrey.”

  “No. It’s not. What Zach did to you is so, so wrong. I just — I can’t help but feel like you should at least hear him out.”

  Christine’s heart felt tugged in a lot of different directions. On the one hand, Zach didn’t deserve a second chance. On the other, didn’t everyone?

  “I’ll do it,” she said softly. “But only because it’s your birthday.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  A few minutes later, Christine stood in front of Zach at the side of Audrey’s birthday party. When she looked into those big blue eyes, she forgot to breathe. She could sense everyone’s gaze upon her; she could already guess the kind of gossip that would surround them if she did, indeed, follow Zach out of the house. But she’d promised Audrey she’d do this. She had to be brave.

  “Hi,” she finally said, just loud enough for only him to hear.

  “Hi,” he returned.

  It was laughable how much there was to say between them. The word “hi” was the tip of the iceberg. But it was a start.

  Zach gestured with his head back toward the door. Reticent, Christine followed behind him. Although he’d maybe lost a bit of weight in the previous month, the muscles in his back remained powerful, and she loved to watch them shift beneath the fabric of his shirt. At the door, they both retrieved their coats from the closet, just as they’d done together countless times. Still wordless, they appeared outside.

  “It’s spring,” Christine said. It was the stupidest thing she could have said. She cursed herself.

  “It is. I can’t believe it,” Zach returned. This, also, was stupid, Christine thought.

  And with that, they continued to walk in silence. The driveway was packed with vehicles from their family and friends, and they weaved through them, at-times parting ways and then finding their way toward the road. Once out there, they stood by the mailbox. Each time Christine’s eyes met his, her heart jumped.

  “I don’t know what to say to you,” Christine finally said. She decided it was better to live in honesty. There wasn’t time for anything else.

  “I know,” Zach returned. “And I don’t even know how to start.”

  He led her toward his car. There, he opened the back door and removed a big bouquet of lilies. Christine’s knees knocked together as he passed them over to her. She was so weak that she felt she could hardly carry the bouquet. She shifted against the side of the car for support and gazed at them. They were beautiful, these big, pink, tender petals.

  “You always told me that none of your ex-boyfriends ever got you flowers,” Zach said softly.

  A lump formed in Christine’s throat and she still couldn’t speak.

  “Christine, I know I can’t fix what I did. I freaked out. I remembered all my past trauma, and it came back like a monster—all that pain. I knew I couldn’t be the backbone you needed, or for Audrey, or for the baby. And I dropped into the worst depression of my life, at least since the accident.

  “When I came to and started to go to therapy and took medication, things started to clear up. I can see clearly; I can think clearly. But I still have trouble sleeping because I know what I did put a rift between us. And maybe I can never have you back. I wouldn’t blame you.

  “It’s just that, Christine, I want to build a life with you. I’ve wanted everything we’ve ever talked about. Raising Max and adopting more babies and having a big, funny, wonderful family. I still want that. And if there’s anything, anything at all I can do to get you back so we can do that, please, let me know.”

  Christine swallowed the lump in her throat. Again, her heart threatened to jump out of her ribcage. The silence stretched between them.

  Until finally, she found the strength to speak.

  “I just don’t know.”

  Zach’s eyes glistened with tears. “I understand.”

  “You hurt me so, so badly,” Christine said.

  Zach nodded. “I know that. But I hurt myself much, much more.”

  Christine believed him. She had to.

  From the doorway, Susan called Christine’s name. “Hey! Christine! We’re about to do the cake!”

  Zach’s smile was terribly sad. “I guess you’re needed.”

  “We can continue to talk about this,” Christine finally said.

  “An ongoing discussion?” Zach asked.

  Christine shrugged. “If there’s anything this year has taught me, it’s that nothing is black and white.”

  “Shades of grey.”

  “Plenty of nuances,” Christine agreed.

  They held one another’s gaze, until then, Lola’s voice rang out across the driveway and through the trees.

  “Christine! Are you out there somewhere?”

  “I swear, those Sheridan girls. They’re impatient, aren’t they?” Zach said with a laugh.

  “To be fair to them, I’m the only one allowed to cut the cake. And when they’re hungry for something, they want it as soon as possible,” Christine said.

  She and Zach shared another tender laugh as she stepped back. “Thank you for the flowers,” she added. “There are way too many of them.”

  “Never enough,” Zach insisted. “Give Audrey my best on her birthday.”

  “I will,” Christine said.

  “And baby Max, of course,” Zach said. “That kid has it lucky, doesn’t he?”

  “He sure does,” Christine agreed.

  Back inside, Christine, Susan, Lola, Amanda, and Audrey wrapped themselves together, arm over shoulder over arm, and led the entire family in “Happy Birthday.” Throughout, Audrey’s eyes glittered with tears. She then closed her eyes and blew out the twenty candles, which Christine had positioned across two of the center tiers of the massive cake. (Of course, before this, she’d already photographed the cake elaborately, as she planned to send it into a few contests. It was really some of her finest work.)

  As she portioned out the cake onto little paper plates, Audrey sidled up next to her.

  “How did it go?” she asked under her breath.

  Christine arched her brow. “I guess you want me to say that it went beautifully and we’re back together and I’m all happy and in love again?”

  Audrey nodded. “Yep,” she said sarcastically.

  “Well, it won’t be easy,” Christine offered, even as a smile spread between her cheeks. “But I think I do want to try again. I think there’s a lot of love there. And maybe it’s not good to abandon it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Six weeks old, Max. How did you get so big, huh?” Audrey stood above the crib as Christine hustled in and out of the bedroom, in a flurry of panic. “Your Auntie Christine is acting like a teenager, isn’t she?” Audrey continued to say to Max. “She’s totally in love, and she doesn’t want to admit it. Look at her? She’s changed her outfit four times!”

  Max cooed playfully. His blue eyes flashed as Christine walked back into the room, splayed her arms out on either side and said, “Okay. What about this dress?”

  Audrey chuckled and fell back on the bed. “I told you. You look beautiful in everything you’ve tried on.”

  “But what about this one in particular? The longer length of the skirt? Is it too much?”

  “It makes you look tall and regal, like a princess,” Audrey told her. “He’ll be scared of you.”

  Christine rolled her eyes, turned around, and assessed herself in the mirror. Her long hair flowed almost perfectly down her shoulders, and the dark green dress cut in a cool square over her breasts. It hugged her hips beautifully, then dropped all the way to her toes. She imagined herself walking toward him, tripping on the skirt, and falling flat on her face.

  “Need I remind you that this is Zach we’re
talking about?” Audrey asked as she stepped up behind her. She placed her chin on Christine’s shoulder and made eye contact in the mirror. “Zach Walters is a man who already loves you. Even if you arrived in a trash bag, he would tell you how beautiful you looked.”

  “Ha.”

  Christine waited like an anxious teenager before prom downstairs on the couch. Hilariously, her father sat across from her and flipped through the channels as though he needed to approve her date before she ran off. Audrey came in and out with the baby until Wes reached out and took Max from her and cradled him against his chest and shoulder. The baby fell asleep almost immediately.

  Amanda bustled in and out, also, from her bedroom. She explained she was in the middle of a brutal online test for one of her classes and that she required numerous snacks to get through it. Audrey and Christine watched her as she gathered up pretzels, chips, and chocolates, all things the Type-A Amanda tried to avoid on a daily basis.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Amanda said as she disappeared back into her bedroom.

  Zach rang the doorbell a few minutes later. Audrey squeezed her elbow and whispered, “Good luck,” as Max’s eyes flipped open and he let out a whimper.

  “Goodbye, little Max,” Christine said. She waved at him, and the motion made his whimper stop abruptly. He watched her as she headed back toward the mudroom.

  She donned her trench coat and stepped out into the evening light, where Zach awaited her. He was dressed in a suit jacket and a pair of slacks; his hair was styled; he was clean-shaven and his cheeks weren’t as hollow as they’d been even a few days before. Christine inhaled sharply. Every muscle in her body screamed: this man is terribly handsome. Don’t mess this up.

  “Good evening,” Zach said.

  “Hello,” she murmured shyly.

  Zach opened the car door for her, like a proper gentleman. She sat in a place she’d once been so accustomed to, her hands folded on her lap. He had cleaned the car recently. None of the familiar coffee cups were in the drink holders and there was no sign of trash.

  Zach got in and started the engine.

  “Where are we off to?” Christine asked him.

  “That’s a surprise,” he replied. He flashed her a sly smile, then eased back down the driveway. They drove in silence. Christine couldn’t, for the life of her, think of a single thing to say. Everything felt too heavy. Maybe she could bring up the weather? The approaching summer season? The fact that Max now smiled genuinely — at only six weeks?

  A few minutes later, Zach pulled the car into the parking lot along the Sunrise Cove Inn. Christine arched an eyebrow at him, incredulous. He’d even parked in the same spot they’d always parked in when they had worked there, side-by-side.

  “Why are we parking here?” she finally asked.

  “You’ll see, okay?” he said.

  Christine and Zach walked wordlessly through the double-wide doors and into the bistro. Upon their entrance, Ronnie, the busboy-turned-server, greeted them. He wore black and white, like a proper server at a fancy restaurant. It didn’t look very comfortable on him, although he really tried not to show it.

  “Good evening,” he said, making his voice much deeper than it normally was.

  Christine wanted to laugh, but she held it back. She knew this was all a part of the ruse.

  “Do you have a reservation?” Ronnie asked.

  “We do. It’s under Walters. Table for two,” Zach said.

  “Right. Just this way, please.”

  Ronnie led them through the empty restaurant, toward the back table, with a perfect view out the bay window, overlooking the Vineyard Sound. The table had been decorated immaculately, with a white table cloth, beautiful china plates, several different forks, knives, and spoons, along with flowers, in an ornate vase.

  “I think that vase belonged to my mother,” Christine said softly. The memory of it curled through the back of her mind.

  “It very well could have,” Zach said. “We found it here at the inn.”

  They sat across from one another as Ronnie lit the candle between them. He then explained the set menu for the night.

  “Tonight, we start with an amuse-bouche of lotus root and tenderloin,” Ronnie explained, his hands behind his back. “After that, we have potato gnocchi in gorgonzola sauce, followed by a roasted carrot and avocado salad.”

  Christine’s eyes grew wide. She mouthed to Zach, “What the heck did you do?”

  “After that, we’ll have a main dish of pistachio-crusted halibut,” Ronnie said. “Followed by a dessert of crème brulee. The chef would like to state that he’s simply not as good as some at crème brulee production, but that he did his best.”

  When Ronnie disappeared to collect the first plates, Christine brought her hands out to wrap around Zach’s at the center of the table.

  “You made all this food for us?”

  “Of course. I slaved away the past few hours,” Zach said. “But it was some of the first cooking I’d done in six weeks. It felt great to do it again. Hopefully, I haven’t lost my touch.”

  “How could the great Zach Walters forget how to cook?”

  “You should have seen me. Making sandwiches the past few weeks,” he said as he grimaced. “It was a sad time.”

  “Never again,” Christine said with assurance in her voice.

  “No. Never.”

  Ronnie arrived with the amuse-bouche. They began to eat quickly, as they were just as addicted to good food as ever before. They poured red wine from one of the Italian bottles as their smiles grew wider. The conversation began to flow naturally along with the wine, and soon, Christine felt as though they hadn’t missed a single day.

  “Tell me about Max,” Zach said, as they dove into the potato gnocchi.

  Christine pondered this for a moment. “It seems a little unfair to label any parts of his personality at six weeks old.”

  Zach laughed. “I guess that’s true. He’s still trying to figure himself out.”

  “But if I can say it simply, he’s just so inquisitive and wonderful, just the happiest little baby you’ll ever meet,” Christine said. “I haven’t been around babies very much, so it’s been kind of an adjustment for me. But I really have welcomed it. Even when Audrey and I are awake at three in the morning and we can’t get him to stop crying. Even then, I feel only love.”

  Zach nodded. In his eyes, Christine could see flashes of memory from his long-ago days of fatherhood. He toyed with the gnocchi on his plate with a fork and then said, “I really hope I can get to know him. Max, I mean.”

  “I think that’s up to Max,” Christine replied.

  At that, Zach actually burst into laughter. “I guess you’re right about that. We’ll have to talk to him.”

  “Schedule a meeting maybe,” Christine shrugged her shoulders, then let out a laugh.

  “I’ll have my people call his people,” Zach chimed in.

  Ah, here it was—the banter they’d always had, which Christine had missed more than anything.

  They continued to eat and drink and laugh into the night. Multiple times, Christine’s heart screamed with how much she still loved him. Other times, her mind demanded the answer to one question: can you really trust this guy? But as the night continued, she free-fell back into his arms, her love. How could she resist this? How could she not find forgiveness when they had so much love for one another?

  When they finished their crème brulee and the last of the wine, the conversation filtered off for a moment. Christine was a little tipsy, and the candlelight’s soft glow across his face made him all the more handsome.

  “Are you ready to go home?” he asked her quietly. “It’s almost midnight.”

  “Which home?” she asked.

  He tilted his head. The question hung between them. “Well, which home do you want to go to?”

  Christine swallowed and leaned forward. All she wanted in this world was to kiss him. “Let’s decide when we get to the car.”

  Chr
istine and Zach thanked Ronnie profusely. Ronnie looked terribly tired, and a bit frightened, as apparently, when he’d fired up the crème brulee he’d almost lost a finger. As Christine and Zach headed back to the car, she slipped her fingers through his and said, “How much did you pay Ronnie to do all that tonight?”

  Zach laughed. “A lot more than he’s ever earned in one night.”

  “Good,” Christine returned.

  Outside, Christine pressed her hand against Zach’s chest. She had him pinned against the car and his blue eyes caught the light of the moon.

  “You have me trapped,” he said.

  “I know. I have you just where I want you,” Christine said.

  She kissed him tenderly. The rush of it fell over her chest and made her stomach flip. Her ears buzzed and rang.

  When the kiss broke, Zach whispered, “So. Have you decided which home you want to go back to?”

  Christine nodded her teeth over her lower lip. “I think you know exactly where I want to go.”

  It was strange and beautiful to be back at the house with Zach. He’d cleaned it immaculately, as though he had hoped beyond anything she would return with him. He opened another bottle of wine as Christine settled in on her favorite seat on the counter. How many nights had they spent just like this, talking endlessly and kissing till it was far too late?

  “I’m so glad you’re back,” Zach whispered as he lifted his lips toward hers again. “This house wasn’t the same without you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Audrey splayed her diary across her lap and realized, with a funny jump in her gut, that she hadn’t written much since before giving birth. Her mind had been completely in the here-and-now and she’d known no other action except:

  1. Try to sleep (and fail)

  2. See Max in the NICU

  3. Try not to cry

  4. Cry anyway

  5. Eat something (preferably not something sugary, although let’s be honest — that’s normally what happened)

  6. Repeat

  Now that Max had been around for nearly two months, in good health and growing like a bean, Audrey had the strength to return her pen to the pages of her diary. She sat out on the porch swing, a blanket wrapped around her, with Max, all bundled up, in his carrier on the porch. Audrey had just checked on Grandpa Wes; he’d gone down for a nap and hadn’t stirred in a few hours. There was something so peaceful about this sunny day. She imagined him lying on his bed and watching the sun play out through the lacey drapes.