Cabernet Zin (The Southern California Wine Country Series)

by J Gordon Smith

  “What do you mean?” Lydia’s nostrils flared.

  “You’ve got Grace running in fear and Noah is hiding in his room drawing. I don’t really want to be out here either. I felt good after getting the car maintenance done and I considered making tacos with scratch made tortillas for dinner but as soon as you rolled in you started yelling and demanding. So we’re having spaghetti and cold green beans out of the can.”

  “What kind of dinner is that? I work all day and no one says thank you.”

  “Well, thank you.”

  “Did you get the mail?”

  “Screw the mail. Yes. And the updated financial summary didn’t arrive.”

  Lydia flopped on the couch, “Why can’t you keep track of our daughter’s glasses?”

  “The kids need some responsibility and we have today and tomorrow to find them.”

  “They could be anywhere. I spent all my time getting those glasses.”

  “I know – you remind us frequently.”

  “I can’t understand how, when you are home all day, nothing gets done.”

  “Did you see me working on the car in the garage when you got home?”

  “Is that what you were doing?”

  “Yes. Changing the oil. Checking the engine over to make sure it’s still running reliably.”

  “If you want to make such a big deal about it, that it’s such a hardship, why don’t you take it in to get serviced?”

  “Maybe. Maybe I need something to take my mind off this constant snippy bickering you want to do.”

  “I’m not doing that.”

  “Every time we are together you want to fight.”

  “I’m exhausted with all of this.” Lydia flipped a blanket over herself.

  “I have to check the noodles,” Zack left for the kitchen.

  Lydia picked up her tablet computer and plugged in the ear buds.

  “Kids, dinner is ready!” Zack poured the sauce from the jar over the kid’s noodles.

  Lydia strolled out to the kitchen as the children sat in their chairs giggling about having spaghetti, “Why don’t you ever heat up that sauce?”

  “You can microwave yours if you like. Do you think I have much enthusiasm when you dampen everything with arguments and yelling?”

  Zack’s phone rang, “Hello?” He nodded, “Yes. How about in ten minutes?” He looked at the kids eating their dinner and joking with each other, “Yeah. That will work.”

  “Who was that?”

  “My client in Mexico wants to conference call.”

  “On Saturday?”

  “You had to work earlier today. It should be less than half an hour call.”

  “When you have time to be with your family, you let me know,” Lydia slid her plate off the counter, went out to the living room, and ate in front of the television.

  Zack wanted to remind her that the month before she sat with earphones on and the tablet. She resented that he didn’t have a regular job. She resented that when he worked he used his basement office for his video conference calls. An old desktop computer that anchored itself to his desk and the wall plug. Even if it was not an eight year old desktop computer, something modern like a laptop or tablet, he still needed to be in a separate room because of the conference call. They could see through the camera and he needed to block all the sounds of his kids. Lydia seemed to have forgotten about chasing Grace for her glasses. Grace played in her room building with her plastic mini-dolls and Noah spilled out his box of blocks and built a multi-winged fighter plane. Zack smiled at the kids who didn’t see him checking on them. He descended the stairs to his basement office.

  -:-:-:-O-:-:-:-

  The mass of children hurtled out of the school. Noah ran from the building, his hair bent back from his forehead. Grace trudged along at a slower pace carrying papers and dragging her backpack.

  “Noah, why are you crying?”

  “I’m ok, Dad.”

  “No, you better tell me.”

  “Well … these older boys picked on me during extra recess today.”

  “What happened?”

  “I want to talk with Mom,” he wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands. “Is she home from work yet?”

  “Not yet. You can tell me you know.”

  Noah nodded.

  “Daddy, here’s my homework,” Grace thrust the paper at him. He took it and pulled them along to his car.

  -:-:-:-O-:-:-:-

  “What happened today, Noah?” Lydia asked as she helped him into his pajamas.

  His words rolled out of his mouth in a stream.

  “Slow down, Noah.”

  “An older boy was picking on me and shoving me.”

  Lydia asked, “What are you doing to incite the bully? It has to be your fault somehow.”

  “I don’t know.” he moaned.

  Zack said, “Bullies attack kids they see are weak.” Zack held up his open palm to Noah, “Show me how you throw a punch. Right here at my hand.”

  Noah brought his fist back.

  “Don’t put your thumb in your fist.”

  Lydia said, “– We don’t want the kids fighting.”

  “They need to learn to fight their whole lives – whether with their fists, their voices, or their minds.” Zack patted his palm, “Put one right there.”

  Noah struck his fist at Zack’s palm.

  “Again. Keep your wrist straight. One continuous line from your elbow to your knuckles.”

  “I asked you not to do that Zack.”

  “He needs to know this.” Zack said. “Try the other fist. Good. One Two. Great. Now, Noah,” he held Noah’s arms and looked him straight in his eyes. “I want you not to take it. You fight if you have to, not first, but don’t take it.”

  “But the teacher will send us to the principal’s office.”

  “Yes, the teacher will. But the bully will never pick on you again.”

  “I can’t do that Dad.”

  “Yes you can. You have to stand up for yourself. I know it’s hard. Now go to bed.”

  Lydia said, “That’s irresponsible – to teach fighting.”

  “I’m not listening to you. You’re verbally bullying the kids and me all the time.”

  “I am not.”

  “You do! That's why we have this kind of relationship. You bully and I mostly ignore it so we get along. But as soon as I stop ignoring because I’m tired of taking it, then you start throwing punches again.”

  “That’s not what I do.”

  “Think about it – I’m done talking about it.”

  “We’re not done.”

  “Goodnight,” Zack went into the bedroom, flopped down on the bed, and went to sleep.

  Lydia crossed her arms around one of the couch pillows and screamed into it, not to keep it quiet, but avoid letting Zack see how he hurt her. Then she shut the light off, yanked the blanket off the back of the couch and tried going to sleep. She could not find a comfortable spot. Her back hurt. Then she remembered why. Nick had bent her backward as he touched and licked and penetrated her. He had teased her and bent her almost to breaking. Her mind drifted.

  -:-:-:-O-:-:-:-

  Lydia stalked around the corner of Nick’s bed. The hem of her blouse floated up in her movement as she knelt by Nick’s thigh. She put the flat of her fingers along his knee and rubbed her hand back and forth feeling the warmth of his leg. She studied Nick’s expectant eyes, which emboldened her. She pushed Nick’s chest back so he lay on the bed. Her tongue compressed her lips, moistening them in a generous arc. Her hand stroked against his inner thigh and she slid her fingers along his smooth skin to his briefs in discovery. She reached over the intensity of the elastic and stroked her finger along his manhood. It yearned for her finger tips. It lifted and solidified. She touched him carefully and nudged back the elastic. She kissed and licked him. His pulse throbbed in her mouth with each pump of his heart. She massaged him again, glistening between her fingers while she climbed up on the bed and straddled his
hips. She guided him into her so she faced his knees and focused on her pleasure. Nick moved his hands up to hold the sides of her hips as she moved rhythmically up and down. Her nipples puckered and her body washed in pleasure. She moved. He moved. She took. He gave. She took again and again as waves of orgasms splashed through her body. Her back arched. Rough and slow. Hot and wet. She paused allowing Nick’s throbbing inside her to back away from his own cliff. She touched herself sustaining her plateau while she waited. Fast and slow, the passion escalated. She grappled the intensity and rolled her hips deepening the motions and their effects. His body bucked against her as they climaxed in pleasure together. Lydia lay back against the pillows pulling the worn sheet across her legs and hip. The spasms between her legs and pelvis subsided like the undulations of a pond’s surface. Satisfying and wrapped in this half memory, half dream, she fell asleep.

  -:-:-:-O-:-:-:-

  “It’s for you,” Lydia jabbed the house phone at Zack. She whispered, her hand over the receiver, “You have to stop these late calls.”

  “Hi Zack. This is Jacob Winters. I’m hoping you have a minute?”

  “Yes.” Zack remembered the silver gray haired retiree with a face that butted like an arrow point, an executive that had worked on Wall Street and still lived in Manhattan.

  “I have been searching for a buyer for the winery.”

  “Any reason?”

  “I need to get my investment back. The other investors are sitting pat. I don’t have the cash for the capital call.”

  “Yours is a pretty big share, so your capital call would be huge, at least for me.”

  “Yes, for me too, at the moment – too many illiquid investments so I’m pinched. That’s why I’m searching for buyers. I wanted to call and see how many of the current group might be interested in pledging their shares. I’d be happy to get out at flat to a small loss for what I got in when this started three years ago, but quite a few said they would only sell if they get a return on their investment.”

  “I’d be looking for a return if getting cashed out.”

  “Understandable. But you are not opposed to selling?”

  “If it’s really attractive I’d say yes, but the winery is good entertainment.”

  “I’m underwater as deep as any with my top floor condo, but with the stock market down I’m getting strapped for cash. I need to sell the winery shares to have money to keep the house and the wife – second wives are less forgiving of financial stumbles.”

  Zack laughed to himself, maybe just the model cliché, then he said, “I’d recommend holding off. The big blending fest is the March Mixer and we don’t know how good the other wines are. I did have some success when I was out there –”

  “That’s what I heard. Some members suggested doing an early release because the tests were great.”

  “I think we have a few other successes in there but I won’t know until this next visit. And any competent outside investor will want to see not only the finances, which you know are bad, but taste all the wine – current and future products.”

  “Yes. I guess I’d want to see the wine too if I was coming in as a new investor.”

  “That wine is a way to see the future. We’re close. If we can get a little headwind at the San Diego or Los Angeles wine competitions with a bronze or silver award we could get more market visibility. Then the winery will accumulate earnings. Are you going to be able to get by for a little while?”

  “I can juggle another project. That’s a good idea to taste the wine – and measure our future.”

  Zack said, “So I might see you? I’ll be there in March.”

  “I think I’m signed up for April. I cannot afford to stay away, at least at this point. It’s not as if I have to be in the office every day. My kids are all out of the house with families of their own. My wife goes to lunches with her friends and shopping. I’ll have a taste of the wines and evaluate my situation.”

  Lydia flushed the toilet and came into the bedroom. “Who was that? You talked as if you’re a big shot investor. Look at all you’ve failed at – to be dispensing that kind of advice.”

  “One of the investors can’t put in the capital call because he’s short everywhere else. Many factors go into investing. You never had training; I’ve been through the business school.”

  “I’ve measured the results. We could use that couple thousand you’re paying for the capital call.”

  “He has a much bigger investment. Probably fifteen percent of the whole project. So his capital call is huge – really huge.” Zack waved his arms in the air. “While ours is not insignificant, we didn’t invest so much that we are over extended.”

  “So you’re planning another trip out there.”

  “Yes.”

  Lydia said, “I talked to that girl Amanda to watch the kids. We’ll have to figure out how to pay her. But I have to work while you’re off playing wine mogul.”

  “I’m trimming vines and moving barrels,” Zack said. “It’s still work out there all day.” He didn’t add that it was better than a gym membership.

  “Not stressful work like my job.”

  “Your jobs have always been more difficult, more exhausting, more hours, and more boring than anyone else’s jobs. You’re a bit self centered.”

  “I come home and do all this work around here that never seems to get done. Then the stuff that is done isn’t done right. Look at those clothes in the laundry basket. A mess. The kids can’t wear those wrinkled clothes to school – you have to fold them as soon as they come out of the dryer.”

  “Like you did a load of your work clothes then had to leave for a meeting and asked me to hang them up so they didn’t mold before you thought of them again?” Zack lay back on the bed, “I’m going back to sleep.”

  Chapter 6

  March

  Claire drove her car on the long entrance of the winery. “You wanted to stop here again?”

  Leiko said, “The wine I got was a big hit at the party. I want a few bottles for home and have them ready for gifts. Maybe a mixed case.”

  Claire grinned, “Are you sure it’s not the hot guy at the tasting bar?”

  “No, Claire. He was nice – yes – more than nice, but even if a toad handed out the wine, the wine stands on its own.”

  “And you’re a big wine aficionado.”

  “I’m becoming one. I can’t drink that stuff from the supermarket anymore. Alfanjo bought a bottle of that the other night and my tastes have really upgraded. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “I’d say my tastes have changed too since we started doing these wine tours.” Claire turned her car following the curve around the building to the parking lot on the far side. She put the gear shift in park and the engine started loping and rattling.

  “What’s going on with your car?”

  “I’m not sure. I just hope it lasts for another year. I keep babying it.” She petted the dash and the motor calmed down.

  “You’re magical.” Leiko opened her door, “I’ll be right back, just stay here.”

  Claire let the car idle since it seemed to be feeling better. She turned on the radio and looked across the rows of vines surrounding the parking lot and stretching down the hill away from the winery. The sun shone brightly and lit the uplifted arms of the trimmed dormant vines, lumpy with buds growing just under the bark.

  Leiko exited the winery gift shop lugging a case of mixed wine and hurrying as fast as she could manage with the heavy box. Claire reached across and unlatched the passenger door.

  “You look like you robbed the place and have me for your getaway car. What happened?”

  Leiko shoved the case behind the front seat, sat down, and looked at Claire, “You have to go into the tasting room. That guy you met at the investor meeting – he is having a snack in there for lunch. A couple of them are there. I heard they are planting new vines in one of the vineyards today. They won’t be there much longer. You should go say hi.”

  “I c
an’t stroll in there and say that.”

  “What have you got to lose?”

  “Yeah, I’m going to walk in there, the only people in there are him and the other workers –”

  “There are other customers too.”

  “– And say, hi, you probably don’t remember me?”

  “Are you chicken or are you brave? I’ll even go with you. You do a Carol-ear-tug –”

  “What’s a Carol-ear-tug?”

  “You know, Carol Burnett used to tug on her earlobe during a show to say hi to her mother without anyone or the audience knowing she did anything to disrupt the show.”

  “Oh, yeah. I hadn’t heard it called that before.”

  “I don’t know what it’s called. But I see that and I make a quick run to the restroom.”

  “Do you think guys worry about this kind of stuff?”

  “Pfft. They just saunter over and ask the question. Most of them get shot down so much they know it’s a numbers game.”

  “I’m not sure about that. But fine.” Claire shut the car off, it chugged and gasped to silence. She walked with Leiko back to the winery, “What am I doing?”

  “You’re taking life by the horns. This might be the point you change your future … or not –”

  “But I won’t know if I don’t try.”

  “Exactly,” Leiko swung open the gift shop door and the two of them breezed into the building.

  Leiko led the way across the tasting floor, “You should see the reflecting pools on the patio,” she said in a voice louder than Claire thought useful, but a raw excuse for their movement.

  Claire’s eyes scanned the tasting room tables but she didn’t see Zack at any of them. Leiko pointed to a table and whispered, “He was at that one.”

  Claire saw a few people outside on the patio and went through the door leaving Leiko inside. The reflecting pools shimmered on her left, full of the blue sky. The great mountain with its golden top lay at the far edge of the valley and a few figures stood by the railing at the side of the patio. One wearing farmer overalls and sipping a cola, gazing across the vineyards sweeping away from the patio. He turned at the sound of woman’s heels.