The 45th Parallel

by Maureen Hands

“He lives north of town, on Cathead Bay. It’s only about a ten or fifteen minute drive,” Patrick said.

  When they reached their destination Patrick turned down a long gravel drive lined with juniper, pine, and birch trees. The woods beyond the drive were dark and dense. They passed a guesthouse nestled in the forest and then drove into a clearing. The yard was full of cars. The house looked like it was at least 7,000 square feet. The cedar shake siding was painted a soft gray that matched the exposed fieldstone trim. It had a large front porch that gave the home a cottage feel despite its size. Patrick parked at the end of the clearing and they got out of the car and walked toward the house. There were about twenty people standing on the front porch drinking wine and talking. A young man called Anna’s name and waved. He jogged down the steps to meet them and gave Anna a hug and kiss.

  “Kat, this is Chris,” Anna said. Chris had dark hair and a warm smile. Kat couldn’t figure out if he looked Italian or Slavic.

  “Hi Chris,” Kat said.

  “Nice to meet you, Anna has talked a lot about you. I know she is excited you’re here this summer.” Chris shook Patrick’s hand and gave Helene a hug. “Let’s go in. The view is much better from the back deck.”

  When Chris’s back was turned, Helene leaned over to Kat and whispered, “That’s Anna’s summer fling.”

  They followed Chris and Anna into an entryway which opened into a large two-story great room. The entire back wall was floor to ceiling windows with glass doors that led out to an expansive deck. A tall stone fireplace was the focal point of the adjacent wall, and opposite was a long ornate wood bar. The room was crowded with people. Patrick lifted his hand and waved to a strikingly handsome man standing behind the bar. He had thick, dark hair, pale skin, and deep blue eyes that caught Kat’s attention from across the room. The man looked up, smiled, and waved back. His eyes focused on Kat and he stared curiously until she looked away.

  “Come over and meet John,” Patrick said as he grabbed Kat’s hand and dragged her through the crowd. As they approached the bar, the man filled two glasses of wine and handed them to Patrick and Kat.

  “You’re a good man, John,” Patrick said. “This is my cousin, Katherine Collins. Kat, this is John Warren.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Kat said. He reached out to shake her hand. When their hands touched, Kat felt a jolt of adrenaline as excitement and fear surged through her. Every instinct was telling her to pull away, but she could not let go of his hand. She noticed John’s eyes dilate slightly as his lips parted to take in a quick short breath.

  “What are we drinking?” Patrick asked. Kat reluctantly pulled her hand out of John’s grip.

  John closed his eyes, exhaled, then looked over at Patrick and calmly said, “You are drinking my house white. It’s a blend of Chardonnay, Riesling, Pinot Gris and Pinot Blanc.” John turned to Kat again, his eyes intense, “What do you think?”

  Kat was staring at John, wondering what had just happened. “Oh…it’s very good,” she answered.

  “Patrick didn’t tell me he had such a beautiful cousin.” Before Kat could respond, John was pushed back as an attractive brunette threw herself into his arms.

  “My glash is empshy.” The brunette giggled. This must be his girlfriend. He looks like the kind of man who could have a lot of women.

  “I think I will show you where the coffee is, Ruby. You’ve had enough wine tonight,” John said.

  The woman stuck out her bottom lip in a pout, and John helped her around the bar, through the crowd to the kitchen.

  “How do you know John?” Kat asked Patrick.

  “His parents started the North Light Winery here when we were teenagers. John was in college in Chicago at the time, but used to come up here in the summer. When his folks died, he took over the business and started splitting his time between Northport and Chicago.”

  “This is his house?” Kat asked.

  “Yes, and you should see his place in Chicago,” Patrick said. “John had just finished law school and started working for a Chicago firm when he got the news about the sailing accident.”

  “Sailing accident?”

  “John’s parents were avid sailors. They took a long weekend in September to sail from Northport to Beaver Island. This coming September will be the third anniversary of their disappearance. They got to Beaver Island, stayed a couple days, set sail to come back to Northport, and were never seen again. The boat was found drifting out in Lake Michigan. There was no distress signal or evidence of foul play. It’s as if they just vanished into thin air.”

  “They never found the bodies?” Kat asked.

  “No, they never found any trace of them.”

  John appeared behind the bar again. “Are you here for the summer, Kat?” he asked.

  “I am here as long as it takes me to make enough money to finish my last semester of school.”

  “You two will have to excuse me. I see someone I have to say hello to,” Patrick said as he turned and pushed his way through the crowd over to a group of women standing by the glass doors.

  “Where are you going to school?” John asked.

  “Michigan State, I’m majoring in Accounting.”

  John stared into Kat’s eyes. She was starting to feel a little woozy. She looked down and noticed her wine glass was full again. Funny, I didn’t notice him filling my glass.

  “You don’t look like an accountant,” he said as he gave her a crooked smile. Someone turned the music up louder, so Kat leaned closer to hear him.

  “I don’t particularly like it, but it seemed like there would be good job opportunities in that field.” Kat had never seen anyone with eyes that color. They were a deep indigo blue.

  “Why would you want to spend your life doing something you don’t like?” he asked. Kat was leaning so close she could feel his warm breath on her face as he spoke.

  “I never thought of it that way,” Kat responded. John took her hand and flipped it around to see Kat’s palm, his touch sent another jolt of adrenaline through her and awakened every nerve in her hand. He gently ran his finger along the lines on Kat’s palm.

  “It looks like you should be a painter,” he said.

  “John, please don’t use the palm reader bit on our cousin!” Kat pulled her eyes away from John to see Helene standing there with a big grin on her face. John let go of Kat’s hand and leaned over to kiss Helene’s cheek.

  “You look beautiful,” he said. The music suddenly stopped and Kat heard someone playing piano. Kat looked over toward the sound of the music. She had not noticed the baby grand when they first came in, probably because the room was so crowded. Patrick was playing, and Anna started to sing.

  “There they go again,” Helene rolled her eyes.

  “Helene! Let’s dance.” A handsome man came by, grabbed Helene’s hand, and pulled her out onto the deck.

  “John, we could use some more wine down here,” someone yelled from the other end of the bar.

  “You’ll have to excuse me for a minute,” John said. There was a bartender working but John obviously liked to pour the wine himself. Kat watched him move gracefully down to the other end of the bar and pop open another bottle. A pretty blonde in a skimpy blue dress leaned over and whispered seductively in his ear. He laughed and filled her glass.

  Kat decided to take a walk out on the deck to clear her head. She wondered why her cousins had neglected to mention how gorgeous their friend was. Anna and Patrick finished their piano performance and the music came back on.

  The upper deck was very large with several separate seating areas. There was a built in stone fire pit ablaze with warmth and surrounded by party guests. The upper deck was connected to a lower deck by a set of steps. From the lower deck one could walk down a boardwalk that meandered past the dunes to the beach. The lower deck also had a large built-in hot tub that, judging by the number of people in it, was at maximum capacity. The moon and the stars shone brightly in the black sky. The air was still and crisp. Kat walked
over to the rail and looked out at the surf rolling in from the lake. Lake Michigan was so immense Kat may as well have been looking at the ocean.

  “You have to taste our semi-dry Riesling.” Kat turned to see John standing behind her holding a large glass of white wine.

  “That doesn’t look like a tasting glass. No wonder your friend, Ruby, is so smashed.” Kat reached out, accepted the glass, and smiled.

  John swirled the wine around in his glass and smelled the bouquet before taking a sip. “The soft sweetness of peach blossom, apple and pear perfectly balances the crisp acidity.” He looked sideways at Kat and winked. Then he leaned over the rail next to her.

  “I guess you have to speak the lingo if you own a winery,” Kat said. “How did this area become so popular with wine makers?”

  “The first winery opened in the Traverse City area in the mid-1970s. It has an ideal climate for growing grapes. The snow insulates the plants in the winter, and the lakes keep the summer temperatures moderate. The grapevines also love the sandy, well-drained soil. Combined with the beautiful scenery, lakes and tourists and you have a great location for a winery.”

  “I do love the summer here, warm days and cool nights. I’m not sure I’m ready for the winter and all the snow, though.”

  “You will have to take up skiing and ice fishing,” John said. He looked over at Kat and noticed she was shivering in Helene’s skimpy shirt. “Here,” he said as he took off his shirt and put it over Kat’s shoulders. He had been wearing a blue and black striped oxford shirt over a black T-shirt. His shirt was warm from his body, and had a slight musky, woodsy smell of cologne. The black T-shirt hugged his chiseled arms and chest. John looked shorter behind the bar, but now that he was standing next to her, Kat guessed he was about six feet tall. Kat turned to face the back of the house. There are so many beautiful women here tonight. Why is he out here with me?

  “Check that out,” John said touching Kat’s arm. He motioned down toward the beach, and they saw Patrick with three young women stripping down to their underwear and running into the lake.

  “I see Patrick has not changed a bit.” Kat laughed. “I think they will be sorry when they find out how cold that water is.”

  “I think they have had enough anti-freeze to keep them warm.” John leaned closer to Kat to say something else when they were interrupted by loud voices.

  “John, are you going to introduce us to your friend? You’ve been hogging this young lady since she came in the door.” A well-built man, a little shorter than John, with wavy brown hair down to his shoulders, approached and stuck out his hand. Kat recognized him as the man who pulled Helene out on the deck to dance earlier. She guessed he was in his late twenties or early thirties. Kat reached out to shake the man’s hand, but he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it instead.

  “Kat, this is Greg Tilmas, my vintner,” John said.

  “And how do you know John?” Greg asked.

  “I just met him tonight, actually. My cousins brought me here, Patrick, Anna, and Helene Cauley.”

  “I see the family resemblance. I hope you brought an overnight bag. They probably won’t be driving you home tonight.” Greg smirked.

  “I’m Jason,” a tall thin man introduced himself. “Just don’t let John take you down to his wine cellar alone. Ladies go down there and never seem to return to the party!” Jason had a long thin nose, large eyes, and a wide mouth. Any one of his features by themselves would not be considered handsome, yet somehow, together, they seemed to work.

  “You know I am a perfect gentleman,” John protested.

  “Are you in the wine business too?” Kat asked.

  “I just drink the stuff. I am a broker. I work in Traverse City,” Jason answered.

  The pretty blonde who had been whispering in John’s ear at the bar appeared at his side and wrapped her arm through his.

  “John, come inside. I want to introduce you to my friend,” she cooed sweetly.

  “Trish, have you met Kat? Kat Collins, this is Trish Griffin,” John said as he unwound his arm from hers.

  “I don’t think so. Are you summering here?” she asked. Trish raised her eyebrows and looked Kat up and down. The expression on her face was one of disapproval.

  “I’m here to work,” Kat answered.

  “Oh,” she said smugly. “Where are you working?”

  “I’m working at Muldoon’s,” Kat said and waited for the response.

  “Whatever for?” Trish’s nose crinkled up as though she smelled something disgusting. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in there. You must be desperate for money.” She smiled triumphantly. “Come on John,” she continued, tugging on his arm.

  John’s face tightened. “Please excuse me, Kat. I’ll be right back,” he said and then followed Trish into the house.

  “Don’t pay any attention to her,” Greg said. “She hasn’t worked a day in her life. Her parents own a big compound on Lake Leelanau.”

  “North Lake Leelanau,” Jason said in a snooty voice. “They would not be caught dead on the south lake.” Both Greg and Jason chuckled at that.

  “Come on Kat,” Greg said. “Let’s check out the food in the kitchen.” Kat immediately liked Greg. He made her feel accepted.

  She followed the two men through the great room into the kitchen. It was a large room with two islands full of appetizers. Jason grabbed a plate and started filling it up with food. As Kat looked around the kitchen, her eyes were immediately drawn to a statuesque black woman leaning against the counter by the sink. Her hair was dark, except for a strip of white running along the right side of her head, and pulled back in a bun. She was tall and thin and wearing a straight black dress that went down to her ankles. The only jewelry she wore was a black crystal which hung from a silver chain around her neck. Her skin was dark, smooth, and ageless. She turned suddenly, looked into Kat’s face, and smiled.

  “Have you met Martine yet?” Greg asked following Kat’s gaze.

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Follow me then.” Greg took Kat’s arm and led her through the crowd. Martine did not move from her spot, but watched as they approached.

  “Martine, you look gorgeous! How old are you…thirty?” Greg said.

  “I am old enough to turn you over my knee,” she answered.

  “Be careful, I might take you up on that,” Greg said. “Kat, this is Martine Labeau. Kat is Patrick, Anna, and Helene’s cousin.” Martine reached out and took Kat’s hand.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said looking directly into Kat’s eyes.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

  “Martine is John’s right hand man, so to speak,” Greg said. “Without Martine, he wouldn’t know what time of day it was.”

  Martine smiled. “I am his executive assistant…or his nanny, I’m not sure which. Are you vacationing here?”

  “No, I am staying with my aunt and working in Northport for the summer.”

  “Is Mary Tanner your aunt?” Martine asked.

  “Yes, everyone seems to know Mary.”

  “She is a lovely woman,” Martine said as she looked past Greg and raised her eyebrow. “Well, what brings you into the kitchen?”

  Kat turned to see John walking over to them.

  “I guess Trish’s friend wasn’t very interesting?” Greg teased. John gave him a dirty look and turned toward Kat.

  “I see you have met Martine. Did you know she was my nanny when I was seven?”

  “I understand she still is,” Kat answered. Martine and Greg started to laugh.

  “I think you have met your match,” Martine said to John.

  “I think I have,” John said softly. A man walked behind John and patted him on the shoulder to say good night.

  As John’s back was turned, Greg leaned over to Martine and whispered. “I just saw Trish…let’s escape to the back deck.”

  Kat was more than happy to avoid any further insults from Trish, especially in front of John. Martine,
Greg, and Kat slipped out the back door just as Trish reached John’s side. As she wrapped her arm through his, he turned to see if Greg, Martine, and Kat were there.

  “That boy needs protection,” Martine said shaking her head.

  “He is very capable of protecting himself,” Greg grumbled. “Martine, where is your man tonight?”

  “He is in Chicago. I am going back tomorrow, which means I can’t babysit y’all tonight.”

  That was the first hint of any southern accent Kat heard in Martine’s speech.

  “Where are you originally from, Martine?” Kat asked.

  “New Orleans,” she answered.

  “She was a voodoo priestess back in the day,” Greg said.

  “You better be careful, I may put a hex on you,” she quipped.

  “There you are,” Anna called out. She was walking over with Chris. “We have been looking for you.” Anna looked at Martine, said hello, and gave her a hug. “Martine, you remember Chris?”

  “Oh yes, how are you Chris?”

  “Great,” Chris said, “now that Anna is here.”

  “On that note, I think I am going to call it a night,” Martine said. “I can’t take all the hormones raging around here. It was nice meeting you, Kat. Please…take care of yourself.” Kat watched Martine elegantly make her way through the kitchen, whisper something in John’s ear, and disappear into the crowd.

  Kat noticed Jason standing close to John and waved. Jason waved back, made his way out of the kitchen onto the deck, and over to where they were standing.

  “Are you still working on that old farm house, Greg?” Chris asked.

  “That house is a never ending project, but you can’t beat the location,” Greg answered.

  “Greg lives in an old farm house right next to the vineyards,” Anna said turning to Kat.

  “If you are ever looking for Greg, you can usually find him among the vines,” Jason threw in.

  “Any winemaker worth their salt spends most of their time in the vineyard,” Greg said. “The quality of the wine starts with the grapes.”

  “How old is your house?” Kat asked

  “It was built in the 1930s. I have replaced the roof and windows and remodeled the kitchen, but it still needs a lot of work.”