The Vineyard

by Barbara Delinsky

  No, siree, there was nothing boring about what he did. It just didn’t lend itself to opening lines.

  So what to do instead? He could hang around the patio. But he wasn’t the hanging-around type.

  He could join them all for breakfast or lunch, or go out with them for dinner. But he hadn’t done that in four years. Doing it now would be as good as waving a red flag in front of Natalie, because he didn’t care what Olivia said, Natalie wanted the two of them together, and Carl was just as bad. He tried to be subtle. But he had made one Olivia comment too many to Simon.

  Simon’s only other thought was to ask her out. But that would be a date.

  He wasn’t going on a date. He just wanted to look at her. She was entertaining.

  IN THE END, the solution that presented itself had nothing to do with any racking of brains on his part. It was all Buck’s doing, and it came in the middle of the night. Simon had dozed off on the sofa with his glasses dangling from a hand and a book open on his chest when a strange noise brought him awake. Dropping his feet to the floor, he sat up, rubbed his eyes, and put on his glasses.

  He heard the noise again. It was a plaintive meow the likes of which he had never heard from Buck before, and it was coming from the direction of the bedroom, but he didn’t even have to go that far. Three wicker baskets were lined up in the short hall leading there. The first was filled with books waiting to be read. The third was filled with clothes waiting to be washed. Between them, the second held clean clothes waiting to be worn. Buck had wisely chosen this basket to do … what he was … doing.

  Simon watched in disbelief for a minute. There was more plaintive meowing, and several positively heartrending looks from Buck that might have held bewilderment, pain, or pure panic. Then again, the poor cat might have been begging for help, but there wasn’t a thing Simon could do.

  Smiling in amazement now, he went to the phone—only to realize that the phone wouldn’t help. It would disturb everyone he didn’t want to disturb. Talk about raising a red flag.

  Flashlight in hand, he jogged through the woods along the shortcut to the Great House. Letting himself in the patio door, he took the stairs to Olivia’s wing two at a time, and went down the hall.

  Her door was shut. There was no sliver of light underneath. She was sleeping.

  But this event was worth waking her for. It was a once in a lifetime thing.

  He knocked softly and waited with a shoulder to the door frame and the flashlight trained on the floor. After several seconds, Olivia appeared. He redirected the flashlight so that she could see that it was him, but the beam lit her, too. He saw a nightshirt, hair that stuck up at odd angles, a wrinkle mark on her cheek, and sleepy eyes that registered surprise.

  “There’s something you have to see,” he whispered, gesturing at the next room. “Get Tess.”

  Olivia looked like she thought he was daft. “It’s after one.”

  “I know. But this is incredible. Buck is giving birth.”

  She didn’t say anything for a minute, just stared up at him. Then, cautiously, she asked, “Giving birth to what?”

  “Kittens.”

  Another silence was followed by a confounded, “Buck?”

  Simon shot a look at the wall. “Yeah, well, I guess we made a mistake.”

  “We?”

  “Me. Come on. Do you want to see this, or not?”

  “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

  “Only when my contacts are out. Listen, I watched him—her—have one of them, and she looked like she was ready to have another. I don’t know how many there’ll be, or whether you even want Tess to watch. But it’s pretty remarkable, and she does love cats. But I don’t think Buck’s going to hold the show off too long. If you want Tess to see this, you’d better hurry.”

  “If I want her to see—Buck having kittens? Of course I do.”

  Without further comment, or promises to be fast, she shut the door in his face. But he heard sounds inside—the pad of running feet, muted voices, the click of the bathroom door—so he knew they were coming.

  Buck, you devil, he thought, and wondered if he should have stayed with the cat in its time of need. Not that he would know what to do if he—if she ran into problems. But they were pals. His presence was a show of support.

  Anxious to be back, he glanced at his watch. Ten minutes had passed since he had left his place. Leaning against the wall, he folded his arms and tried to be only as excited as having a cat that was having kittens warranted.

  Eighteen

  SIMON HAD TO GIVE OLIVIA points for speed. He couldn’t have been waiting for her in the hall more than a minute or two. Not that it took long to pull on a T-shirt and shorts. She was safely dressed when she opened the door. One look at Tess, though, and it was all he could do not to laugh. If the mother’s hair stuck up, the child’s was worse. Her sleepy little face was nearly lost in the mess of it.

  But maybe that was good. She actually looked sweet.

  Unfortunately, she grew less sleepy and more wary when she saw him there. But it couldn’t be helped—he wasn’t letting them traipse through the woods alone in the dark.

  Gesturing that they should follow, he focused the flashlight behind him and went down the stairs and out the door. He crossed the patio and led them along the forest path, glancing back from time to time to make sure they were all right.

  There was no moon. Other than the beam of his flashlight, the forest was pitch black, at its most dense this time of year. They were nearly into the clearing before the light from the cabin appeared.

  He opened the door and let them in, then moved ahead again to show them where Buck was. The hallway was dim, lit only by the spill of living room light, but it was appropriate for birthing and there was more than enough light to be able to see.

  Tess gasped, gave a small cry of delight, and tiptoed closer to the basket. Olivia was right beside her, quickly crouching down, enthralled.

  And Simon? All he saw was the pile of dirty clothes in the basket beside Buck. As unobtrusively as possible, he nudged it into the bedroom with his foot and shut the door. Then he took a closer look at the cat. Three kittens lay in the basket now, and judging from Buck’s sudden resumption of meowing and another beseechful look, a fourth was on the way.

  “Omigod, Mom,” Tess cried softly, “they’re so little!” She inched closer. “They don’t even look like kittens.” She put out a small hand, finger pointing in the general vicinity of one of the babies. “See those bumps? I think they’re ears. And their eyes are still shut. How long before they’ll be able to see?”

  “Three days maybe,” Olivia said and raised questioning eyes to Simon. “Right?”

  He was less than an arm’s length away, leaning forward as he watched. “Don’t ask me,” he replied. “I’m the one who thought she was a he.”

  “Look, Mom.”

  “She’s licking them. Cleaning them up.”

  “No. There.” She pointed to the other end. “She’s having another one, I think.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  “It’s slimy.”

  “The whole process is actually pretty clean,” Simon offered. “Buck eats everything.”

  “G-ross,” Tess said and sat back on her heels. “How many more do you think she’ll have?”

  “Don’t know that,” Olivia replied. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

  Tess looked at Simon. He thought he saw a bit less distrust. “How did you know she was having babies?”

  “I heard meowing and followed the sound.”

  “Did you put her in here?”

  “No. But it’s a great place. Lots of cotton. Warm and comfortable and clean. Sides that’ll keep the babies in until she’s ready to take them out.”

  “When’s that?”

  He shrugged. “A week or two? Maybe three. Maybe four.”

  Olivia chuckled. “Good answer.”

  “Do you know?” he asked.

  “Not me. He’s not
my cat.”

  “Who’s the father?” Tess asked Simon.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll bet it’s Bernard. No—Maxwell. He’s more Buck’s size. Why didn’t you know he was a girl?”

  “I never needed to know. It’s not like he’s been here—not like she’s been here that long, not even a year. And it wasn’t just me,” he said, needing to share the blame so that he wouldn’t feel so foolish. “Natalie was the one who named him Buck.”

  “This explains why he was so fat,” Tess said.

  Simon nodded. “I’d say so.”

  The child settled down on the floor and folded her legs. “Can I hold one?”

  Simon was thinking that it was too soon for that but that he didn’t want to be the one to tell Tess when Olivia said, “Not for a few days, sweetie. They’re very fragile.”

  Tess was pensive. “Remember we saw a thing on TV about four little kittens that someone put in a plastic bag and tried to drown?” Her voice rose. “How could anyone do that? These are babies. They’re Buck’s babies. It’d be awful if someone did that to them.”

  Simon got the message. “I won’t hurt them.”

  “What’ll you do when they get big?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.”

  “Would you just let them loose in the woods?”

  “No. They need a home.” He stood. “I’m thirsty. Does anyone want anything?”

  Tess must have found his last answer acceptable because she asked, “What do you have?”

  He pictured the inside of his refrigerator. It wasn’t exactly stocked for kids. “O.J. T.J. Water.”

  “No Coke?”

  “No Coke.”

  “No Little Bunches?”

  “Sorry.”

  “How can you do what you do and not have Little Bunches?”

  “Tess,” Olivia chided. “That’s rude.”

  But Simon said, “She has a point. It’s just that I’m not used to having kids in here. You’re the first one.”

  Tess’s brows went higher than her glasses. “Ever?”

  “Ever.”

  “Where did your daughter live?”

  “Tess,” Olivia whispered.

  “We all lived in another house,” he said, wondering what the chances were of Tess leaving it at that. When it came to curiosity, she had the same overabundance as her mother, which was probably why Olivia was quiet now. Two of them couldn’t chatter at once. Unless it was something else, like Olivia being tired. Or feeling awkward. Maybe she wasn’t a night person.

  She was good in the morning. He knew that.

  “Don’t you even have wine?” the child asked.

  Relieved that she hadn’t homed in on Liana, he smiled. “Not for you.” He looked at Olivia. In the dim light, he could have sworn she was startled. “What?”

  She stared at him for a minute, then shook her head and looked at the basket again.

  “Would you like wine?”

  “Water, please.”

  “I want O.J.,” Tess said. “But not if it has pulp. I hate pulp.”

  “Hates pulp,” he murmured, going to the galley kitchen at the end of the living room. He poured a glass of water and was in the process of pouring orange juice through a strainer when Olivia came up beside him.

  “You don’t need to do that,” she said. Her voice was gentle.

  He shook the strainer to let the juice through. “She hates pulp.”

  “She could have done without. Seeing Buck having kittens is treat enough. She’s not budging from that basket.”

  He put the strainer into the sink and turned to Olivia. Her head just reached his shoulders. Her hair was a dozen different shades of dirty blonde. It actually looked natural.

  “Something startled you before,” he said.

  She shot him the briefest glance and shrugged.

  “What was it?”

  She shrugged again. “You smiled. It changed your face.”

  He could have sworn she was suddenly shy, then decided it was just that she seemed mellow. The night would cause that.

  “Thank you for coming to get us,” she said, and turned so that she was leaning against the counter, looking out. “This is a nice place.”

  He leaned against the counter beside her. “It’s small. I couldn’t see building a place that echoed.”

  “No chance of that with all these books. I’ve never seen so many. I’ll bet there are none on raising kittens.”

  “Give me three days.” He handed her the water and said quietly enough so that Tess wouldn’t hear, “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  She took a drink. “I’ve been sleeping later.”

  “Deliberately?”

  “I work at night. Sometimes pretty late.” She studied the rim of her glass. Finally, she raised her eyes to meet his. Her face was bare in every sense. “I don’t know how to deal with this. It’s not why I’m in Asquonset.”

  Her honesty did something to his insides. “It was just a kiss.”

  She arched a brow and shot a look at his pants. “Sure felt like it could’ve been more.”

  And it did again. Just like that. One look caused a telltale rush of blood. Embarrassed, he bent his knee and put the sole of his foot against the cabinet door. So much for mellowness.

  “The thing is,” she whispered, looking out at the room again, “I meant what I said. I’m here for the summer, then I’m gone. This place … this vineyard … it’s just an oasis for me.”

  “Bad analogy. With all this rain, it’s more like a mud hole.”

  She looked up at him in concern. “Is there a chance the crop will be ruined?”

  “There’s always a chance. But it doesn’t happen often. More likely, the wine is just better or worse.”

  Tess ran in, eyes wide. “She’s having another one. That’s five. Can you imagine having five babies?”

  “Not me,” Simon said.

  Olivia sputtered out a laugh, but Tess was suddenly staring at him. “Why are you wearing glasses?”

  “I’ve been wearing them all night.”

  “What do you do during the day? Do you wear contacts?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m getting contacts, but I have to wait until my eyes stop changing. When did you get yours?”

  “When I was fourteen,” he said and handed her the juice.

  “I can’t wait that long.” She peered into the glass.

  “No pulp,” he assured her before she could ask. “The pulp went down the drain.”

  “Oh. Good.” Holding the glass in her left hand, she did something with her right that might have been a wave, and set off.

  Olivia’s voice followed her. “Tess?”

  “I signed it,” Tess called.

  “Ah,” Olivia said and told Simon, “Sandy’s grandson is deaf. I’m not sure she’s doing that sign right, but the thought is there. Thank you for the juice.”

  Simon wandered into the living room and looked at Tess in the hall. He tried to picture Liana in her place, watching Buck have kittens, getting a drink, remembering a thank-you. “We were just beginning to get into that. You know, manners and all.” He started to gesture Olivia into a chair, then realized she might want to watch Buck. Shifting the gesture, he pointed a thumb in that direction and raised his brows.

  She shook her head and slipped into a deep, overstuffed easy chair. Moving herself all the way back, she pushed off her sneakers and folded up her legs. She looked about sixteen.

  “Does it bother you having Tess here?” she asked.

  He looked at Tess and the baskets in the hall, then looked behind him. Pushing the book aside, he sat on the edge of the sofa and considered the question. Did it bother him having Tess in his house? It hadn’t been a premeditated thing. He hadn’t anticipated bringing either of them here. But Buck had given him a golden opportunity, so here they were.

  Did it bother him? He would have thought that it would. He had deliberately not invited Olivia in l
ast time. This was his private place. There was no room here for women and children.

  Funny, though. Olivia and Tess weren’t just women and children. They weren’t … generic. They were … Olivia and Tess, each with her own personality and looks. They were totally different from his wife and daughter.

  “Or shouldn’t I have asked?” Olivia said.

  “No, it doesn’t bother me having her here. I could try to imagine Liana at Tess’s age, but the fact is that when I see her in my mind, she’s the six-year-old she was when she died. She’ll always be that. Tess is a different species—and I don’t mean that in a negative way. I mean it timewise. She’s older. She’s more verbal. She’s street-smart.”

  “Is that a euphemism for ‘mouthy’?” Olivia asked with a half smile.

  “She’s that sometimes, but from what you say, there’s good reason. Is she doing any better?”

  Olivia nodded, but she didn’t look convinced. “Sandy is great. Tess is starting to get the knack of the method she’s teaching. It’d be neat if I could get her into a private school that specializes in it. We applied to one in Cambridge”—she dropped her voice to a whisper—“but they just sent me a letter saying that they don’t have room, and I haven’t had the courage to tell her.”

  “Does she have her heart set on the place?” he whispered back.

  “She has her heart set on not going back to the school she was at. I’ve applied to several more, but we may not know until the last minute. It’s nerve-racking.”

  “Has she made any friends here?”

  “None who call on the phone. That’s the big indicator, in case you didn’t know.”

  Oh, he knew. “Some things never change. Who’s calling you?”

  “Me?”

  He hadn’t planned on asking, but there it was. “I was at the office the other day when a guy called. Anne Marie was having trouble convincing him you weren’t here.”

  Olivia grunted. “That would’ve been Ted. He swears he isn’t calling, but there’s no one else it could be. We dated in Cambridge. He’s still interested. I’m not.”