The Vineyard

by Barbara Delinsky

  “One of us can always drive you back early,” Olivia told Jill. The buffet was called for five o’clock. “How long do these things last?”

  Tess leaned forward between the seats. She wore a pair of white shorts with a blue Asquonset T-shirt. Her glasses were clean. Her hair was in a neat French braid. “There’s a fireworks show. It won’t start till dark.”

  “Have you met any of the local kids?” Jill asked her.

  “Some are in my sailing class.”

  “Well, that’ll be fun, then.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t really know them.”

  “It’ll be fun,” Jill insisted, and Olivia liked her for her confidence, too.

  “Where do you live?” Tess asked Jill.

  “Washington.”

  “How come your husband isn’t here?”

  Olivia was thinking that she should have told Tess something of the situation when Jill said a perfectly logical, “He’s busy working. I always spend more time here than he does.”

  “Do you work?” Olivia asked. Everything about the woman was professional, from the sleek blonde hair tucked easily behind an ear to the simplicity of another pair of chunky earrings to the absence of a watch or anything else that might mess up her wrists and get in the way of papers or other work materials.

  “Not officially.”

  “What does that mean?” Tess asked.

  Jill smiled. “It means I don’t get paid.” To Olivia, she said, “I do PR for charity fund-raisers. I help with the planning and the publicity.”

  “Why don’t they pay you?” Tess asked.

  “They don’t have the money.”

  “Do you have any kids?”

  “Not yet,” Jill said.

  They pulled into the yacht club parking lot beside Carl’s car. A third Asquonset car pulled up moments later.

  Olivia didn’t see Simon among the occupants—which meant that either he hadn’t felt anything at all that morning or he had and he refused to admit it. She had thought he might come. After all, eating in the dining room at the Great House was one thing—Olivia could understand that he might find that too cozy—but this was a larger group, with a hundred or more at the buffet. There was nothing personal about it.

  He could be coming in his truck.

  Not that she was asking Natalie and Carl about him. She didn’t want to give encouragement to something that wasn’t going to happen.

  So she asked other people, starting with Donna Gomez, Simon’s first in command and, as such, the one who might have been expected to drive over with the man. Donna was strong and slim, dark haired, olive skinned, very much Olivia’s age, though she had two children in their late teens. Her husband and the kids had come with her, which Donna claimed was an Asquonset tradition.

  “If it’s a tradition,” Olivia said, “where’s your boss?”

  “Simon?” Donna asked. “Most likely back home. He doesn’t come out much.”

  “Since his wife died?”

  “Even before. He’s very private. She was a socializing force.”

  The wine maker, David Sperling, echoed that thought when Olivia talked with him a short time later. They were admiring the boats secured in slips. The sun was starting to lower. “See that one there?” he asked, pointing to a handsome cruiser with a cabin underneath. “That belongs to the vineyard. We used to have a sailboat, but, well, you heard about the accident.”

  “That was four years ago. I’m surprised they haven’t bought another.”

  “Alexander wanted to, but he wanted something large.” David pointed to another boat. It was a sailboat that was longer and wider than the cruiser. “There you have a mainsail and a jib. Alexander wanted even more than that.”

  “I can see why,” Olivia said, recalling Carl’s description of the accident. “A large boat wouldn’t be as vulnerable.”

  “That wasn’t why Alexander wanted it,” David said with a fond smile. “He wanted an eye-catcher.”

  “Was he a good sailor?”

  “Not particularly. Fortunately, he knew it. When he was taking people out, he put Simon at the helm. Simon was the best. He hasn’t been in a boat since the accident, though. In fact, he hasn’t been here to the club since the accident.”

  “So what does he do with himself? You know, in his free time?”

  The answer to that came from Anne Marie Friar, the receptionist in the business office. Olivia talked with her daily. She was personable and chatty, perhaps more so than she should have been in this instance, but Olivia was, after all, Natalie’s confidante.

  “He reads,” Anne Marie said. “He’s constantly buying books, mostly on-line now. He must love that. He doesn’t even have to show up in a bookstore. The packages are delivered to us. We give him a buzz, and he picks them up. His place must be stuffed.”

  “Where is his place?” Olivia asked. She knew that he lived on Asquonset land within walking distance of the grapes, but nothing designated as Simon’s house was marked on any map she had seen. She had explored. During late afternoon runs, she had taken every well-trod path on the property and still didn’t have a clue.

  “It’s on the southeast side.”

  “There’s nothing there.”

  “There is, only you can’t see it unless you’re on top of it. There’s a narrow road marked by a reflector on a tree. The house is half a mile up. It’s on the same acre that Natalie’s father gave to Carl’s father when the Seebrings first came here to live.”

  Olivia knew that Carl had a place in town. She had assumed that the house where he’d grown up had been torn down and the land cultivated. “Simon lives in his parents’ house?”

  “Not quite,” Anne Marie said, seeming delighted to be able to impart some inside information. “It’s been razed and rebuilt. Twice now, I believe.”

  Olivia was about to ask more when she spotted Tess. She was with a group from her class. Well, not with them. More like trailing after them, and she didn’t look pleased.

  Want friends? Simon had said. Try a smile.

  He was right. Nothing about the girl that Olivia saw just then would appeal to other children.

  Smile, Olivia mentally commanded, concentrating with all her strength, counting on brainwaves to convey the message, and incredibly, Tess looked her way. But her scowl only deepened. She made a hard motion with her hand, telling her mother not to look at her. Then she turned her back and followed the other children off the deck and into the club.

  By then, Anne Marie was talking with someone else, and Natalie was waving at Olivia to join her. There were friends to meet, several of whom had lived in Asquonset longer than Natalie and might have been the mystery woman in those early pictures. All were in their seventies and eighties now, which made resemblances harder to spot. Olivia searched, but in vain. She was about to ask Natalie, when the buffet was served.

  Olivia had never seen a spread like it. There were fish chowder and clam chowder, both creamy with beads of butter floating on top. There were lobster salad, lobster Newburg, and lobster tails. There was skewered shrimp. There were grilled steaks and steaming corn on the cob. There were hamburgers and hot dogs, cole slaw and potato salad. There were molasses-heavy Boston baked beans.

  Olivia filled her plate and went to check on Tess. The child was eating a hamburger on the dock, at the very edge of the circle of children. She had her back to Olivia, which was probably good. Olivia’s heart would have broken in two if she had seen turned-down lips or a woebegone expression.

  In that instant, Olivia would have gladly turned back the clock to the time when Tess was a toddler. She might have rescued her then. She couldn’t do it now. Tess was too old.

  Struggling with the helplessness of that thought, Olivia found a seat on the deck with the Asquonset group, and it was everything she had hoped it would be. She liked these people. She fit right in. Natalie kept her close, making her feel wanted and needed.

  But she kept feeling little bits of sadness, like a nagging ache in th
e back of her mind that she had to actively concentrate on to identify.

  The first was the most obvious. It had to do with Tess.

  The second was more surprising. It had to do with what Natalie had told her that day. Something about this most recent part of the story had been more real than other parts. It was the fact that death had entered the picture, she supposed. There was nothing at all romantic about death.

  She barely knew Brad. He hadn’t played a major part in Natalie’s teenage years. Olivia had certainly heard more about Carl than she had about Brad. Still, his death stuck with her.

  Actually, what stuck with her was Natalie’s stricken look. That was what nagged.

  The third little bit of sadness was more dismaying. It had to do with Simon, who had lost a good part of his family to the sea and was off somewhere, sitting alone.

  Well, that’s his choice, she reminded herself, but it didn’t make her feel better.

  Nor did Tess’s appearance right about the time when people were heading to the buffet for seconds. She leaned against Olivia’s chair, appearing to settle in.

  “How’s it going, honey?” Olivia asked.

  Tess shrugged.

  “Did you eat?”

  The child nodded.

  “Where are the kids?”

  She moved her head in a way that could have indicated any direction at all, but her eyes settled somewhere else. Following them, Olivia saw Sandy Adelson heading their way. She wore a long flowing dress and had a flower in her hair. She was holding the hand of a boy Olivia hadn’t seen before. He was an inch or two taller than Tess, and had straight dark hair and serious eyes.

  Tess murmured out of the side of her mouth, “If she’s bringing him over here as a consolation prize, I’ll never forgive her.”

  “Smile,” Olivia whispered and rose from her seat. It was the most natural thing in the world for her to give Sandy a hug. Then she stood back and studied the boy. “This is the most gorgeous guy in this room.” When his cheeks reddened, she held out a hand. “I’m Olivia.”

  “This is my grandson Seth,” Sandy said proudly. “We thank you for the compliment.” She tapped the boy’s cheek and, when he looked at her, said, “Olivia works at Asquonset, and this is her daughter, Tess. They live in Cambridge. They’re here for the summer.”

  Nodding his understanding, the boy gave them each a short wave.

  “Seth and his parents live in Concord,” Sandy said. “That’s not far from Cambridge. They’re down for the weekend. I’m hoping Seth will stay on for a while.”

  Seth was looking at Tess like he wanted to say something but didn’t dare. It was only when he tapped Sandy’s arm and signed something that Olivia realized he was deaf.

  She didn’t dare look at Tess, lest they make something of it.

  “Seth wonders if you know the Border Café.”

  “I know it,” Tess said.

  Seth signed something.

  Sandy interpreted. “It’s his favorite restaurant.” When the boy looked up at her and signed something else, she signed quickly back. “He’s waiting for dessert,” she explained. “I swear, that’s the only reason for coming here, as far as Seth is concerned. They do make-your-own sundaes, with a dozen different ice creams and every topping imaginable. Want to make one with us?” she asked Tess.

  Tess touched her stomach. “I don’t think I can. I’m stuffed.”

  “How about later, then? My dad—Seth’s great-grandpop—has a beautiful old Chris-Craft. He’s taking it out so that we can watch the fireworks from the water.”

  Olivia was about to accept the invitation when a ruckus arose from the far side of the deck. A mime was there, balanced on a single foot on the top plank of the deck, looking for all the world as though he was on a thin wire suspended dozens of feet off the ground.

  Sandy shot Olivia an excited smile and drew Seth in that direction.

  Olivia was about to follow when Tess held her back.

  “I’m not going with them,” she said.

  “Why not?” Olivia asked. “It sounds like great fun.”

  “Yeah? Well, he’s deaf.”

  Olivia blinked. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I can’t talk with him. He’s deaf.”

  “Watching fireworks doesn’t require talking. This isn’t a fix-up, Tess. It’s just a boat ride.”

  “Yeah, but the only reason she’s inviting me is because the other kids didn’t ask me to go with them.”

  “I don’t think that’s true. She’s simply inviting us to do something that sounds like a lot of fun.”

  “It doesn’t sound like it to me. It sounds like she’s putting the dyslexic one with the deaf one. I’m not that desperate.”

  Olivia stared at her daughter. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  Tess didn’t take it back.

  Olivia put a hand to her chest. “I can’t believe you said that.” Suddenly, she was rip-roaring mad. She had the good sense to take Tess by the hand and pull her outside to the parking lot, but that was where her consideration ended. Rounding on her, she said, “I am appalled at you, Tess. Appalled. What’s wrong with that boy?”

  Tess pushed up her glasses. “He’s deaf.”

  “And you’re dyslexic. And I’m a slow writer. And Sandy is free spirited. And Natalie is seventy-six. There’s nothing wrong with that boy that lip-reading and signing don’t fix. He’s not inferior any more than you are. Isn’t that what I’ve been trying to teach you all these months, all these years? You’re not inferior. You learn in a different way from most kids, but there’s nothing inferior about it. The end result will be the same. You’ll grow up just like they will and go to college and have a career. So that boy speaks in a different way from most kids. He’ll grow up doing the same things as you. My God, Tess. You, of all people, should know better than to look down your nose at someone who isn’t quite like you.”

  Tess didn’t seem quite so cocky. Her arms were pressed to her sides. Her chin was lower.

  “And what about compassion?” Olivia cried. “That little boy can’t hear. He can’t hear songs. He can’t hear words. He can’t hear the chirps of those baby birds in the vineyard. He can’t hear Henri purring. He wakes up in the dark of night and has to rely on his eyes to tell him if there’s someone in his room. He has to work twice as hard to get the same thing out of life that you do.”

  Tess’s chin sank even lower. Her eyes were woeful through her glasses. “I wanted to be with the other kids.”

  “Because they’re popular? That’s not a good reason. Popularity is skin deep, Tess. It’s substance that counts.”

  “Not at my age,” Tess muttered.

  “At any age!” Olivia argued. She pushed a hand through her hair, started to turn away, then came back and leaned into the argument. “Compared to that child, you’re pretty lucky. Can’t you see that? No, you can’t, because you’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself.” She straightened. “Well, listen up, Tess. You have a choice. You can sit around feeling sorry for yourself and blaming every little problem you have on being a slow reader, or you can move on. It isn’t the dyslexia that’s causing you the trouble with these kids. They don’t know you’re dyslexic. What they do know is that you have a chip on your shoulder a mile wide.”

  She was suddenly exhausted. Taking a tired breath, she let her hands fall to her sides. “I love you, Tess. I love you with all my heart. If you were to tell me you don’t like Seth because he’s snobby or self-centered or … or even geeky, I could accept it. But to tell me you don’t like him because he’s deaf?” She shook her head slowly and definitively.

  Then she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. When she looked at Tess again, the child seemed contrite. “Does what I’ve said make any sense?”

  She waited, staring, until Tess said a quiet “yes.”

  The victory was empty. Olivia felt drained. She inhaled again. Quietly, she said, “I think I’ve about had it. How about we go back?” She ges
tured for Tess to come. “Let’s thank Natalie.”

  They had barely reached the clubhouse door when Jill appeared. She looked relieved to see them. “I was worried you’d left.”

  “We’re about to. I was just going to let Natalie know. You look beat.”

  “Slightly,” she said, easing down onto a wood bench. “I’ll wait here.”

  “We won’t be long.”

  Olivia went searching for Natalie. She was still upset enough with Tess not even to look at the child when they passed the lines of people waiting to make their own sundaes. Tess would have loved that. She deserved to miss it.

  Natalie and Carl were sitting with friends on the outside deck. The sun spilled lower over the water now, but it would be another hour yet before dusk.

  Olivia squatted beside Natalie’s chair. “We’re heading back,” she said softly. “I just wanted to thank you. This has been lovely.”

  “Aren’t you staying for the fireworks?”

  Smiling, Olivia shook her head. “I’m tired. I’m taking Jill back with me. I guess it’s been a long day for her.”

  “Want to drop her off and come back?” Natalie asked hopefully.

  Olivia loved her for the genuine enthusiasm. It was so nice to feel wanted—so nice that she was tempted to change her mind. But Natalie was with her friends, and the others from the vineyard were with their friends, and maybe, just maybe, Olivia was still feeling a little like the outsider.

  “Thanks, but no,” she said gently and was rising when Sandy Adelson materialized.

  “There you are,” Sandy said. “Tess says you’re heading home. Do you mind if she comes with us? I’ll be glad to drop her home afterward.”

  Sure enough, there was Tess, standing on one side of Sandy. Seth was on the other.

  Olivia’s first instinct was to decline the invitation on behalf of her daughter. Tess didn’t deserve to see the fireworks, much less from the deck of a boat belonging to these good people, not after what she had said.

  But she did look contrite—a little shamefaced as she looked up at Olivia—not to mention unsure. And Seth had a hopeful look on his handsome face.