by Judith Keim
“Yes, he and I make a good team,” said Lettie, flattered to think Rafe had followed Chandler Hill Winery so closely.
“Here comes Dad,” said Rafe.
“I’ll leave you two to your work. I understand your father is working with you on your land. What are you going to call it now that the Tauntons have moved on?”
“I’m going to stick with the name Taunton Estates Winery but breathe fresh life into it. They never took the time to know the grape, the land, the process. I can’t wait to prove to everyone that I can change the reputation of the name by producing a wonderful, upscale wine.”
Joe Lopez joined them. “Hello, Lettie. Looks like it’s going to be a nice day.”
“I think so.” Though Joe hadn’t wanted Rafe to have anything to do with her, Rafe’s marriage and time had changed things. Now, they’d be working together to keep Chandler Hill productive and to help Rafe with his own wines.
“I’ve got to go. We’ve got a big party arriving today.” As she started to walk away, she realized she’d never mentioned Rafe’s wife. She turned back. “Welcome Maria to the area. I hope she’ll enjoy being back home.”
A sad expression crossed his face, turning down his mouth. “You haven’t heard? Maria is fighting cancer. That’s why we’re here.”
Lettie felt the blood leave her head. “Oh, Rafe! I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I or any of my staff can do for either of you, just let me know.”
“Thanks.”
Joe placed a comforting hand on Rafe’s shoulder. “We’re all very sad about it.”
“Of course,” said Lettie. “We’re still trying to get over Terri’s death. Someday, we’ll be able to eliminate cancer, but I’m afraid it won’t happen for a long time. Please give my best to Maria.”
As Lettie walked away from the two men, she felt their eyes on her.
###
Later, as she sat talking to Paloma, Lettie told her about the conversation Rafe had with Rod Mitchell. “If he thinks he’s still got a chance of taking over Chandler Hill, he’s crazy. I’m never going to sell this place. And if Rafe and I are friends, it’s nobody’s business. He’s married, for heaven’s sake!”
“Being married doesn’t stop some people.” Paloma shook her head. “Look at poor Elisa. She’s forced to put up with a lot.”
“I don’t understand why she doesn’t divorce Ricardo.”
“She can’t afford to live on her own. We pay her a decent salary, but it’s not enough to take care of her and their five children. He has a good job. She needs the money he brings in.”
“Do you ever miss being married?” Lettie asked Paloma. “I know you’ve dated.”
“I love going out with a man, having dinner, even making love with him. But after seeing Manny through his return from Vietnam, his recovery, and finally his suicide, I don’t want to marry again. I like my freedom. Somebody else can cook and clean and take care of a guy, but that’s not for me.”
“I understand,” Lettie said. Though she was still shaken by her reaction to Rafe, she’d do nothing about it. Look what had happened with Rod. For the short time she’d been married to Kenton, their marriage had been so perfect no other could compare. Plus, in so many ways she was already married—to the land and the inn.
Lettie turned to Paloma. “Let’s do something really nice for Maria. Think of how we can help, and we’ll do it. The few times I met her, I liked her.”
###
Chandler Hill had a bountiful harvest that summer. They were, Lettie decided, some of the sweetest, most perfect grapes they’d ever grown.
Heralded as the vintage of the century, 1992 was different in that there were long, hot days, warm nights, and very little rain during the growing season. Local winemakers described the vintage as a California one. Lettie found it necessary to harvest early, and by mid-September, picking was in full swing.
They’d just put the wine in barrels when Lettie got a letter from Autumn telling her that she wouldn’t make it home for the holidays.
Disappointed, Lettie kept busy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Another two years went by before Lettie finally heard the news she’d been waiting for. Autumn was coming home for the holidays.
Inside the Portland International Airport, Lettie paced back and forth, unable to keep still. It had been over four years since Autumn had gone to Africa, and though Lettie had missed her terribly, she had persisted in building a relationship between them through letters. But any mother knows letters are not enough, and Lettie couldn’t wait to wrap her arms around her daughter.
As passengers deplaned and made their way through the terminal, Lettie’s eyes remained glued on the arrivals. She noticed a tall, auburn-haired woman walking toward her holding onto a baby in a carrier. She took another look. Was that Autumn? But in all their communications she’d never mentioned a baby of her own.
“Mom?” Autumn smiled and shifted the baby carrier in her arms.
“Autumn, is it really you? And who is this?” Lettie’s gaze settled on the little girl whose red hair and brown eyes were part of a cherub-like, chubby-cheeked face.
“This is Camilla,” Autumn said. “But I call her Cami. Cami Chandler.”
Lettie clasped a hand to her chest. “I’m a grandmother? How fabulous! Where is her father?”
“Off to India. I’m here for just a short visit. We’ll talk later. Right now, I know a little girl who needs her diaper changed. Want to help?”
She handed Lettie the baby carrier and searched through the diaper bag she was carrying. Lifting out a diaper, she grinned. “Success.”
As they walked through the terminal to a rest room, Lettie gazed at the baby. “How old is she?”
“Six months,” said Autumn.
“Is her father Richard?” Lettie asked, thinking with dismay of Autumn’s old boyfriend.
“No, no. Richard and I broke up some time ago. It’s someone I knew briefly. He doesn’t even know about the baby, and I don’t plan to tell him.”
“Oh, but ...” Thinking of her own situation, Lettie stopped. How could she even dare to counsel her daughter about such a thing?
They changed the baby’s diaper and then went to baggage claim to pick up the two suitcases Autumn had brought with her.
“Why don’t you hold the baby? I’ll get the luggage,” Autumn suggested.
The baby looked at Lettie and smiled, exposing two little teeth. The awkwardness Lettie had felt disappeared in a rush of love. This precious, beautiful child was her granddaughter.
Cami reached up and tweaked Lettie’s nose.
Lettie laughed and poked Cami in the stomach, eliciting a giggle from her. Then, they laughed together.
Once the luggage was stowed in the Volvo station wagon Lettie had bought several years earlier to replace the VW Squareback Kenton had given her, Lettie got behind the wheel and took off.
“It’s going to be so different being home,” said Autumn. “I’ve grown to love Africa—its people, its beauty.”
“You’re continuing to help in Zaire?”
Autumn’s expression became serious. “Yes. There’s still so much to be done there. Their leader is corrupt, leaving most of the people in such poverty it’s unimaginable. And now Hutu refugees are being hunted down. Drinking water for everyone, medical care, education—all the things we take for granted are not available to most. My work has become an important part of a village, and I need to go back. I’m sorry, but it’s going to be a shorter visit than I’d imagined.”
“What about the baby? Is it safe for her there?”
“Not as much as I’d like.” Autumn gazed out the window, ending their conversation.
Lettie continued driving, casting glances at her and the baby buckled in her car seat in the back.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Lettie asked tentatively. At the mention of the plight of the people, sadness had crossed her daughter’s face and lingered.
“Not yet,” she said.
By the time Lettie drove the car up the driveway to the inn and on to her house, both Autumn and Cami had fallen asleep. Lettie pulled into the driveway, turned off the engine, and sat a moment, hating to disturb them.
Gently, she shook Autumn’s shoulder.
Alarmed, Autumn came wide awake, sat up, and studied the area around her. “Ah, we’re home.”
Tears came to Lettie’s eyes unexpectedly. She’d waited a long time to hear those words. “I’ll take the baby, if you wish, and then you and I can get the luggage inside.”
“Okay. I suppose we can get a crib from the inn,” Autumn quickly agreed.
“Oh, yes. Good idea,” Lettie said, thinking of other things they might need. “I’ll call and ask one of the staff to bring one here, along with sheets and blankets. Tomorrow, we can go to town for anything we don’t have.”
“I brought what I could with me. Cami has a couple favorite toys and a favorite blanket, though I suspect she’ll need warmer clothes.”
Still shocked by all the changes, Lettie stared at her daughter. “I can’t believe you’re a mother, but you seem to be a natural, doing such a good job of it.”
“Thanks,” said Autumn giving her a misty-eyed smile that reminded Lettie of the little girl Autumn used to be.
Cami began to cry, shattering the tender moment.
“Hush, baby,” crooned Lettie, picking Cami up and rocking her as she carried her inside.
In the kitchen, Autumn opened the diaper bag and brought out an empty baby bottle and a container of Similac. “I think she’s hungry. I’ll get a bottle heated up, and you can give it to her.”
Lettie watched Autumn quickly put together a bottle of milk for the baby and then hand it to her.
Once settled in a rocking chair in the guest room, Lettie held Cami close as the baby gobbled down the milk.
Autumn handed her a dishtowel. “Before burping her, you might want to put this over your shoulder. Cami can be a spitter.”
Lettie lifted the baby to her shoulder and rubbed her back.
“A little harder,” Autumn coached.
Lettie patted Cami’s back, and this time, Cami burped and then spit up on a part of her sweater Lettie hadn’t covered with the towel.
Autumn gave her a sympathetic look. “Sorry. I tried to tell you. Here, I’ll take Cami while you clean up.”
“Thanks. It’ll take me just a minute, and then I’ll pour us some wine. The last few years have been good for grapes in the valley.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“I’ve ordered dinner to be delivered here around eight o’clock. Is that okay? Our new cook at the inn is fabulous. She’s an older woman from California, and though she isn’t as much fun as Terri was, the staff likes her.”
“Sure, that will be fine. My time table is so messed up, I guess it doesn’t really matter.”
“In the meantime,” said Lettie. “I’ll call for the crib.”
As she changed her sweater, Lettie wondered at all the changes in Autumn. She was a different person—a mother no less! She’d thought communication between them had improved but, obviously, there was a whole lot that hadn’t been shared.
Lettie glanced at herself in the mirror and a slow smile of satisfaction crossed her face. If she wasn’t mistaken, Cami looked a lot like her.
After leaving her room, Lettie answered the doorbell and then helped one of the housekeepers set up the crib in one of the two guest rooms. After feeling alone for so long, she was pleased to see the house with guests.
In the living room, Cami lay on a blanket kicking her feet happily.
Lettie walked the housekeeper to the door and thanked him. After he left, she turned to Autumn. “How about that wine now?”
“Yes, that would be nice,” said Autumn, letting out a long sigh.
Lettie returned to the living room with an open bottle of pinot noir and two red-wine glasses. “I’m really proud of this one. It has such a smooth finish I think you’ll like it.”
Autumn accepted the glass of wine Lettie offered her and waited for her to pour some wine into her own glass.
Lettie sat down beside Autumn and lifted her glass. “Here’s to the Chandler women—all three generations!”
“I’ll drink to that.” Autumn took a sip of wine and gave her a warm look. “Nice. Very nice.”
“Thanks. Now let’s hear what’s going on with you.” Lettie set her glass down on the coffee table and leaned forward.
“I was going to wait before telling you, but I want to put it out there now,” said Autumn. “I’d like to leave Cami with you while I return to Africa. The political situation can be iffy, and I think Cami will be much safer, much happier here.”
Lettie felt her jaw drop. “You want me to raise Cami?”
“No, no, it’s not like that. She’s my daughter, and I love her, but I can’t keep her safe with me.” Tears filled Autumn’s eyes. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but of course, I’ll come for her as soon as I feel it’s safe.”
Wonder entered Lettie’s voice. “You’d trust me to do this? But you always thought ...”
Autumn took hold of Lettie’s hands and looked into her eyes. “Mom, that was a long time ago, and I’ve grown up. Will you take care of Cami for me? Keep her safe and happy?”
Lettie glanced at the baby and swallowed hard. “Of course, I will. She’s my granddaughter.”
The frown that had lined Autumn’s brow was replaced by a bright smile. “Thank you! That means so much to me. I see how comfortable she is with you already.”
Lettie clasped her hands. It seemed like such an insane idea because it was obvious that Autumn loved her daughter. But a nagging question kept popping up in her mind. Then, why hadn’t Autumn told her about the baby?
Cami started to fuss.
Lettie and Autumn looked at each other.
“Why don’t you take care of her.” Autumn’s voice filled with quiet anxiety. “It will be hard enough for me to leave her, and I want to be sure she’s accustomed to you.”
Lettie picked up the baby, checked her diaper, and carried her to the rocking chair in the guest room next to the crib.
She held the baby close, rocking her until she fell asleep. Carefully, Lettie placed her in the crib on her back as Autumn had instructed and covered her with a blanket.
Autumn looked on. “Tomorrow, I’ll purchase some more suitable things for her.”
When they returned to the living room, Lettie once again took a seat on the couch with Autumn. “When are you going back to Africa?”
“The day after tomorrow. Like I said, I can’t be gone long, I’m working with people in government to get permission to dig a well. I’ve received some threats, which is why I want Cami here with you.”
“What about staying here until things calm down?” Lettie’s voice was hopeful, hiding the deep worry inside her.
Autumn shook her head firmly. “I can’t do that to the people of my village.”
“I admire what you’re doing, but I’m concerned you won’t be happy with my having Cami here.”
“Who better to ask? And Abby and Paloma are around. They can help you.” Autumn’s face flushed with emotion. “I wish the situation were different, but I can’t take a chance on anything happening to Cami.” Her voice wobbled. “I love her so much.”
Lettie sat back against the cushions of the couch feeling as if a hundred-pound weight had been dropped into her lap. If she was totally honest with herself, she’d admit she hadn’t enjoyed raising Autumn. In her forties now, would she be better at mothering? She’d always felt she’d become a mother too soon. Would she feel the same way about being a grandmother?
Autumn reached over and patted her hand. “It’s a lot to request of you, but I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it weren’t necessary.”
“I know,” Lettie said, feeling more at ease about this predicament. She’d do as her daughter wanted and become the best grandmother around.
&nb
sp; ###
The next afternoon Lettie joined Autumn on the swing on the back deck. Several times she’d attempted to have a conversation with her about the baby’s father and birth. But each time, she’d been shut down. Now, she decided to give it one more try. “As your mother, I want to know why you didn’t even let me know you were going to have a baby. I wish you’d talk to me now about Cami’s birth and her father.”
Autumn let out a long sigh. “I can’t say anything about him. I wish I could, but people would only get hurt. I thought long and hard about not going through with the pregnancy, and then it was too late. I didn’t want to make that choice anyway.” Her dark eyes shone with unshed tears. “My friends in Africa stayed with me for the delivery. They said it was an easy one. Once Cami was born, I was going to tell you about her, but I kept thinking I was coming home and I’d show you instead. When I got those death threats, I knew I had to bring her to you right away.”
“I wish I had known about your pregnancy. I would have helped,” Lettie said with regret.
Autumn looked away and then turned back to her with a sad smile. “At first I thought you’d just criticize me. But then I realized I couldn’t ask you to come and be part of the bad scene going on around me. Rebel soldiers would have loved to get their hands on you and that strawberry-blond hair. Besides, I knew with your fear of flying, you could never make the trip.”
Lettie’s breath left her in a rush. She felt sick to her stomach. What kind of mother wouldn’t help her child when she needed it?
Autumn rose and clasped her hand. “Mom? I understand. I really do. Let’s leave things as they are. It’s all behind us now.”
Tears blurred Lettie’s vision as she hugged her daughter. “I’m so sorry. I know you haven’t always felt that I loved you, but I do, and I always will.”
Autumn patted her back. “I know. I know.”
###
Watching Autumn say goodbye to Cami, Lettie held back tears. As unsure, as without patience as she’d been as a mother, she would never have wanted to send Autumn away. Except maybe as a teenager.
