A Mother's Wedding Day

by Rebecca Winters; Dominique Burton

  “Thank you.” While he drank, he moved back and forth. She could tell he was drawn to the Old Spain tile motifs. His hand hovered over one and he finally picked it up. “This tile you’ve called Alhambra is stunning and the design isn’t too big. Every color is there.”

  “It’s one of my favorites, but it’s very delicate and would need a small room like a bathroom to bring it out. If we’re talking a whole restaurant interior, I’d go to a deeper terracotta shade and a more intense green to balance the blue against the red and orange. It would be more dramatic. Let me put some pigment on paper so you can see the difference in colors.”

  She only took a minute to demonstrate. “What’s your opinion?”

  He studied it for a while before he smiled at her. “Never argue with the artist. Already I can visualize your tiles as a trim around the arches of the walls we’ll erect. I’m thinking an indoor patio and loft area with a wrought—”

  Andrea never heard the rest of his sentence because there was a knock at the front door, interrupting them. “Excuse me for a minute. It’s probably another client.” She put her half-full drink on the table and walked over to the entry.

  When she opened it, her pulse started to race at the sight of Max standing there. “Hi.” His gaze centered on her mouth. The memory of what they’d shared last night was still with her.

  “Hi, Max.”

  “I can see you’re with a client, but I wanted you to know I need to talk to you as soon as you’re free.”

  This was probably about his mother. Andrea didn’t have to think. “You’re welcome to come in and wait. This appointment shouldn’t take too long.”

  “Thank you.”

  Max stepped inside. He was taller than Brad, more powerfully built. She introduced them. After a nod to the designer, he picked up half a dozen of her painted fruit tiles. While he planted himself on the couch to look at them, she tried to focus on Brad, but it was almost impossible.

  They discussed other tiles, but he kept coming back to the Alhambra. “Tell you what, Andrea. If I could take this tile with me, I’ll return it after I’ve worked up a full color layout for Valerie.”

  “Keep it as long as you need to.”

  “I’m excited about working with you.” He smiled, sending out vibes that he meant what he said. “We’re going to transform Casa Bonita.”

  “I used to work there when I was a teenager. Valerie’s right. It needs a lot of help.” She packed the tile in a small carton and handed it to him.

  “Thanks. I’ll let myself out. When I’ve drafted some designs, we’ll get together and go over them. I’ll give you a call.”

  “Good. See you soon.”

  Chapter Seven

  Alone at last…

  Max rose to his full height and put the tiles back on the table. “You’re a very gifted artist, Andrea.”

  “Thank you.”

  Their eyes met. She’d been aching to see him, but he didn’t pull her into his arms. Andrea could tell he had other things on his mind. “I’ve just come from talking to Dr. Shand. He told me he intends to keep Dad at the treatment center for the rest of the month. In that time he’s hoping for a breakthrough to help end his cycle of alcohol abuse.”

  “If that could happen, it’ll save his life,” she cried softly.

  “That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” Lines darkened his arresting features. “But Papa’s concerned about being gone from the vineyard so long. To alleviate any worry, I promised him I’d be here to take charge.”

  “Your promise had to have taken away his anxieties. Steve worships you,” she whispered.

  “Even if I’m the prodigal son?”

  She heard a surprising note of self-criticism in his tone. “You’re here now when he needs you most. That’s what counts.”

  “We’ll see,” he murmured, sounding faraway. “First things first. Jim needs to be advised of the change in situation. A little while ago I saw him pull up to the shed. You were right—2:45 in the afternoon is a little late to show up for a job that starts at 8:00 a.m. Come with me and the three of us will have a summit meeting to discuss procedures from here on out.”

  Andrea blinked. “Procedures?”

  “That’s right. When you told your client that the Casa Bonita needed a lot of help, you could have been talking about the de Roussillac estate. This place needs a complete makeover. I want to get started on it this week.”

  His words charged her with exhilaration. “Give me a minute to change shoes.” Her sandals slipped too much on the gravel drive.

  “I’ll meet you outside.”

  Andrea flew through the house to her bedroom and put on her sneakers. After running a brush through her hair and putting on a fresh coat of lipstick, she hurried out the front door. When she joined Max, he appeared deep in thought.

  They walked the two blocks to the shed in silence. The private road ran alongside the vineyard. She could see his troubled gaze taking in the acres of vines that hadn’t been pruned and tied last fall. It pained her to see so much of the grape crop lost for this year’s harvest.

  Farther on she spotted Jim’s crew, working in the north end. Several cars and pickup trucks were parked outside the building. Neither Sammi nor Andrea ever went near the shed unless they were with Steve. Andrea disliked the stocky vintner, whose coarse language and wandering eye had repulsed her from the beginning. Of course, Max didn’t know that.

  Jim’s office was at the front of the shed. Max opened the door and they walked into the empty reception room. “I think he’s in the back. Wait for me.”

  She nodded, then rubbed her arms. The furniture needed refurbishing. Everything looked messy. Long before his drinking started, Steve had been in a depression. The problems in his marriage had taken their toll on him and the whole estate.

  Andrea shuddered to realize how bad things had become. It seemed as if her whole life was about things she should have done. She should have waited to marry Chris before sleeping with him. She should have demanded he tell his parents they had a baby. She should have contacted Chris’s parents after he died. She should have told Sammi she had grandpar—

  “Andrea?” Until she heard Max call to her, she hadn’t realized she’d buried her face in her hands. After dashing the tears off her cheeks, she turned around. “Jim will be right here. What’s wrong?” He sounded alarmed.

  She sniffed. “Ghosts. Do you ever have them?”

  He took a fortifying breath. “You don’t even want to know.”

  While his haunting admission resonated deep inside her, Jim walked in, wearing his usual T-shirt and overalls. He looked surprised to see her standing there.

  Max nodded to him. “If you’ll both be seated, we’ll get this meeting started.” The CEO from Chandler Banking was in charge.

  Andrea took the chair next to the couch. Jim sat behind his desk.

  “My father’s enjoying a much-needed holiday. In his absence I’ve taken over the running of the estate and intend to make a lot of changes.” She noticed Jim shift nervously in his chair. “But before anything is done, the emotional climate around here has to change, so we’ll clear the air now.”

  Max was definitely working up to something.

  “Jim? I want you to think back to a conversation you had with my mother five months ago. When she drove up from San Francisco and couldn’t find my father, she came to the shed to ask you if you knew where he was.

  “This was a very important day for her because she’d decided to tell my father she wanted to live on the vineyard with him for good. It was going to be a new start for both of them. According to her, you told her she only had to look as far as my father’s bed or Ms. Danbury’s, and she’d find him. You added that everyone who worked on the estate knew they’d been sleeping together for years.”

  Andrea moaned. Though she’d lived with the knowledge that there’d been gossip, the blood froze in her veins to realize it was Jim who’d done the damage.

  “I don’t know what yo
u’re talking about. I never said anything like that to her,” the man muttered. “If she said I did, then it was her own jealousy talking.”

  “In other words, it’s her word against yours,” Max said flatly.

  “Look—I’ve been working here twenty-five years without a single complaint.”

  “I’m wearing a mini recorder, Jim. It has been picking up our conversation,” Max informed him. “If what you’ve just told us is the truth, then you won’t have anything to worry about when it’s turned over to the county prosecutor. If it’s a lie, then you’re going to be brought up on charges of slander and defamation of character of Andrea and my father.”

  Jim’s cheeks went a dull red.

  “I brought Andrea with me because she denies your accusations. Rather than a ‘he said, she said’ scenario, I thought it best for the two of you to confront each other so we finally get at the truth, before it winds up in court before a judge.”

  Silence filled the room.

  “Name one time when you caught us together and found our behavior questionable,” Andrea finally demanded in a quiet voice.

  He shot out of his chair.

  “Sit down, Jim. You’re not going anywhere yet.”

  Max’s command forced him to comply, but Andrea was on her feet now. “How could you have made up such a lie?”

  Jim’s head was bowed. Enraged, she moved over to the desk. “Look at me, damn you!”

  He couldn’t.

  “For the love of heaven, what possessed you to be so cruel to a family that has retained you all these years? There’s no one finer than Helen or more sweet and wonderful than Steve. He took me in after I’d just lost Sammi’s father, and before that my parents.

  “Chris was killed over the ocean. They never found his body! The Coast Guard told me he’d probably been eaten by sharks! I was out of my mind with grief and desperate for a job where I could keep my baby and my aunt with me. For months I suffered nightmares, imagining the hell Chris must have gone through. Sammi was all I had left of him. Steve helped me through that desolate time. He was like a father to me, and we got through our deepest sorrows together. The friendship we forged transcended anything your filthy, disgusting mind thought up.

  “And how could you lie to Helen, when you knew she and Steve loved each other desperately? How dare you tamper with people’s lives like that! A long time ago I sensed there was something wrong with you. So did Sammi.”

  Andrea clenched her hands into fists. “I don’t know how you live with yourself. Steve was a dream employer, the best you’ll ever see in your lifetime. How can you look your wife and children in the eye and not feel guilt that you’ve been responsible for the destruction of another family?”

  Jim still didn’t say anything.

  “Your silence has convicted you, Jim. You’re fired,” Max declared in a chilling voice. “Gather up your things and leave the estate now. Your severance pay will be in the mail by the end of the week. If you so much as show your face around here again, you’ll be arrested. Is that clear?”

  Andrea headed for the door. “I’m going to be sick.” She threw it open and started running down the road toward the cottage. Max didn’t try to stop her.

  A few minutes later she lost the breakfast she’d eaten earlier that morning. As she emerged from the bathroom on rubbery legs, she heard her phone ringing. Please, God. Let it be Sammi. Andrea had never needed her daughter so much in her life.

  She pulled the cell from her purse and clicked on. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Andrea. It’s Judy. I’m calling to tell you your aunt woke up with pneumonia today. It’s not severe, but she has a rattle. I knew you’d want to know.”

  “T-thank you, Judy. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

  After taking another shower, she changed into sage-colored pants with a white, short-sleeved top. Her most comfortable outfit. She would need it because she planned to stay with her aunt until she was out of danger. Andrea needed her own family right now, even if the older woman didn’t know her own great-niece anymore.

  As she drove away, Andrea could see Max in the vineyard. He always stood out from everyone else. At the moment he was talking with workers in the north section. No doubt they’d already been told Jim had been fired.

  With Max de Roussillac in charge, there were going to be many changes. She felt it in her bones. Most important of all, Steve had gotten his son back for good. Though her heart was breaking for the damage done, there was hope for Steve and Helen. As she drove toward Rutherford, Andrea marveled at the day’s events. Max had uncovered the lie that would transform not only his parents’ world, but his own.

  So where does that leave you, Andrea?

  Ah—that was a horse of a different color. Sammi still wanted nothing to do with her. The fear that they might stay estranged frightened Andrea, but she had to accept the fact that her daughter would never come home to live with her again.

  It was time to leave the cottage. Today’s showdown with Jim had marked a turning point. Nancy was a part-time Realtor. She’d help her find a new place. With the economy in a downswing, there ought to an apartment in Napa for rent at a good price.

  Andrea also needed to find a studio with a workroom, probably at a downtown strip mall. She needed a gallery to show her paintings and tiles. The drive to see her aunt in Rutherford might take a little longer from Napa, but it was a larger city than the others in the area. Her business would benefit from the increase in traffic.

  Most importantly, it would put her at a distance from Max. She’d loved him for too long. The pain had to end. What they’d done the other night was give in to their passion. It had been building for years, but now that they’d been able to work it out of their systems, this chapter of their lives could finally be over. For everyone’s sake, it was better that she walk away.

  MAX STOOD ON THE newly constructed deck off the renovated tasting room, where Andrea’s mural formed the centerpiece. His gaze took in the profusion of newly planted flowers filling the beds. The brick pathways forming a geometric design around them had been repaired. With the weeding done and the vineyard beyond the gardens in flower, the sight would be glorious to his parents, who were coming home from the treatment center today.

  They were back together.

  It was hard to believe four weeks had passed since Max had followed Andrea into the cottage and discovered his father passed out on the couch. During the time the two of them had been in therapy with Dr. Shand, Max had worked nonstop to get the estate ready for them.

  Not everything was done yet, but it didn’t matter. They would see that the main house had not only been painted inside and out, the entire front had been remodeled according to the plans his father had envisioned years ago—before the strife in their marriage had torn their lives apart.

  The vaulted ceiling with heavy beams set off tall glass windows and doors opening out to the garden via the extensive slate deck. Max had brought in stonemasons to build a half wall around the trellis-covered amphitheater where people could sit, connecting it to the deck at the far end of the house.

  While one team of gardeners had espaliered the wisteria and bougainvillea vines over the latticework, another had cleaned up the grounds around the side of the house reserved for guest parking. Max had done a massive amount of weeding, and now the new flower plantings brought the winery to life.

  All this was good. So far the multitasking had saved his life. Since the day Andrea had bolted out of the shed in pain, he’d seen next to nothing of her except from the roof, where he was repairing shingles, or from an upstairs window he was washing.

  Before Max told his father why he’d fired Jim, he’d had a talk with Dr. Shand about the scene in the shed. The psychiatrist had advised Max to leave Andrea alone for a while. She needed to get in touch with her feelings and gain a different perspective. That would take some time. Later he could go to her, when she’d had an opportunity to heal. Maybe she would come to him. But Max should be patient. He h
ad never needed her more, but he’d decided to follow the doctor’s counsel.

  This morning he locked the back door and started down the steps. Andrea’s car was gone. She must have already left for a business appointment. In a few days, when the painters were ready to start on the cottage, he would take her to his penthouse in San Francisco and they’d talk until she came willingly into his arms.

  Before he reached his car he heard the phone signal that he had voice mail. The construction foreman often called him with a question before he even arrived for work. It must have come in while he was showering. Max pulled it out of his pocket to retrieve the message.

  “Hi, Max. It’s Andrea. I’m impressed with all the work you’ve done so far. The place looks fabulous. Your father will be so thrilled. I talked to Dr. Shand last night. He told me your parents are coming home today. That’s the best news in the world.

  “Just so you know, I’ve rented a place in Napa, where I’ve opened a small studio and gallery. I also rented an apartment. Last week the moving van loaded all my things from the cottage. You weren’t here or I would have said goodbye in person.

  “As of yesterday it’s all cleaned up, so you can do what you want with it. The door’s locked. I left the keys on the kitchen counter. Steve will have extras. I would have brought them to you yesterday, but I assumed you were at the treatment center.

  “Please don’t think I’ve left your parents in the lurch. I’ve arranged for a housekeeper from St. Helena to come in whenever Steve wants. I’ve left her phone number on the counter with the keys. She comes highly recommended by friends of mine and will be great in the wine tasting room because she has worked in several before.

  “Tell your parents that when I have my grand opening, I’ll invite all of you. As you know, I wouldn’t be where I am today without your father. Tell him that for me. Thanks and happy reunion!”

  Like the heavy stone slab that had fallen off one of the trucks last week, Max’s heart plummeted to his feet, sending the grist flying.