Strawberry Wine

by Darly Jamison

  “Yeah, if you like garbage. You can tell a movie is going to be bad when it starts out with that cheesy 1940s narration. The plot is slow, the acting is mediocre. It’s really not worth the trouble.”

  “So, you don’t think it’s romantic . . . giving up the person you love for the good of your country?”

  “Are you kidding me? There are so many plot holes you can hardly take it seriously. Hey—I thought you never saw it before? You seem to know an awful lot about it.” He set down the shirt he was folding and turned toward me.

  I shrugged my shoulders and wrapped my towel closer. “A friend told me about it once, but he thought it was one of the most iconic movies ever made.”

  “It might be iconic, but that doesn’t mean it’s good.” Christopher placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me until we were face-to-face. Out of nowhere he asked, “You’re happy, right?” He pushed a damp lock of hair behind my ear.

  “Of course I’m happy. I’m about to marry my best friend.”

  Christopher chuckled. “Well then, Ruby’s a very lucky lady.”

  I laughed. “Stop it! I wasn’t talking about her. I was talking about you, silly.”

  Christopher cupped my cheeks in both hands. “I love you. You know that, right?” he asked, a serious expression covering his handsome features.

  I searched his brown eyes and knew he meant every word. Christopher did love me, I knew that was true. He might be busy with his work, but he always took the time to make me feel important.

  “I know. And I love you, too.”

  “Have I ever told you how cute you look in a towel?” he asked, changing the subject. His eyes took their time as they swept over my towel-clad body.

  A pleasant sensation swirled in the pit of my stomach and I closed my eyes as Christopher planted a kiss on top of my nose. “I don’t think so.”

  Wrapping his arms around my waist, he pulled me closer. “Well, you look very cute. Scrumptious, in fact.”

  I let out a giggle as he bent his head and kissed my neck, his lips leaving a trail of moisture as he made his way toward my ear. “Scrumptious?”

  “Absolutely delicious.” His mouth met mine and he kissed me slowly, releasing the towel I had tightly fastened around my chest and letting it drop to the floor. “Do you promise to walk around like this for the rest of my life?”

  “I do.”

  I felt Christopher smile against my lips before we made our way to the bed.

  * * *

  “Oh my God, I can’t wait to get home,” I said the next day as we were packing our suitcases into Christopher’s black Audi. “It’s been so long!”

  “It hasn’t been that long. You just went for a visit a couple of months ago.”

  I loaded my accessory tote into the trunk and closed the door. “Two months is a long time to go without seeing my mama,” I said, gathering my hair into my hands and twisting it up into a messy bun. “I hate to be away for too long. We need to think about going to Pittsburgh. If we want to start planning the wedding we can’t keep putting it off. It’ll only take us about eleven hours to get to your parents, and I think it’d be nice to spend a few days, don’t you? I’d love to meet your whole family and take a tour of the town where you grew up.”

  Christopher came around and opened the passenger door, and I settled into the front seat and fastened my seat belt. “That would be nice. I haven’t been home in a while.” He bent down and gave me a quick kiss before shutting the door and walking around to the driver’s side.

  “Then it’s settled. Maybe we can go within the next couple of weeks?” I said, once he was seated in the car.

  He put the key in the ignition and brought the engine to life. “I’m not so sure that’s gonna work, Addy. I have patients to see. I’m already going to be away from the office for the next few days. I can’t keep taking time off.”

  I scrunched my eyebrows. “But I’d like to meet your family and tell them in person we’re getting married.”

  “I’d like that, too. And we will, I promise. I’m just not sure when I can get away next.” He pulled the car onto the street and turned to me and smiled. “But we’ll invite everyone we know to the wedding. We’ll do it up right, okay? I want to show you off to the world.”

  Nodding, I rolled down the window and leaned back into the seat, enjoying the breeze as the city of Atlanta passed by. How different Atlanta was from Lakeside, with its urban design and grand architecture. Atlanta was a town rich in history and spilling over with residents. It was a far cry from the fifteen hundred acres of corn, hay, and cattle where I had grown up.

  I watched Christopher out of the corner of my eye as he maneuvered the car in and out of traffic. As if he felt me staring, he turned his head and gave me a smile. “Whatcha doin’?” he asked softly.

  Taking a deep breath, I gave him a shrug. “Just wondering what it’ll be like to be married.”

  “I imagine it’ll be a lot like it is now. We already live together, so I don’t think we’ll be too surprised by each other’s idiosyncrasies—unless you’re hiding something from me?” he teased, glancing over with an amused grin.

  I shook my head. “Nope. My life’s an open book. I have nothing to hide.” And I didn’t. Levelheaded and logical, right down to my sensible shoes. That summed me up in a nutshell.

  “So, tell me,” he began as he rolled up my window and adjusted the thermostat in the car, “what’s the farm like?”

  Though I’d been home often, Christopher had never visited. A sudden prick of homesickness poked at my heart as I envisioned the area where I grew up. As a teenager, I’d always figured I would leave Lakeside as I searched for bigger and better things in the city, but the reality of a more populated area quickly lost its appeal. As much as I adored my life in Atlanta and taking advantage of the active nightlife, residents had to keep in mind that there was crime—a side effect of overpopulation I was not accustomed to. Crime in Atlanta was above the national average, a sobering statistic to a country-raised girl like myself. The most dangerous thing that ever happened in downtown Lakeside was the occasional pothole marking the street.

  “The farm’s great. It’s been in my family going on three generations now. My grandpa Henry inherited it from his parents, and my dad is slowly taking over more responsibilities these days. I imagine someday the torch will be passed on to me.”

  “Be passed to you?” he asked, a look of shock covering his face. “No offense, Addy, but what would you want with a farm?”

  I gave him a funny look. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you’re not a farmer. What’re you going to do with it?”

  I opened my mouth and then closed it. What did he mean by that? “I don’t know. I’ve always loved it. I hate the thought of it going to total strangers. I guess I’ll decide what to do when the time comes.” I turned toward him in my seat and tucked one leg under me. “I get the feeling you don’t like the thought of owning a farm.”

  Christopher shook his head. “The idea of becoming a farmer doesn’t sound very appealing—to me anyway,” he added. “Some people are just not cut out for that type of thing, and some people are. I’m not so sure I’m one of them.”

  I considered that for a moment, supposing he must be right. Not everyone was meant to live in a small town, and I was not about to make a big deal out of something that wasn’t even an issue yet. “So, where do you see us in ten years? Or twenty?” I asked, changing the subject.

  He shrugged. “Not too far off from where we are now, I guess. Maybe I’ll own my own practice one day. And maybe I’ll hire the best-looking physician assistant in all of Atlanta to come work for me,” he said, throwing me a lopsided grin. His soft hand reached over and rubbed my knee. “Tell me more about the farm.”

  Pursing my lips, my mind wandered over the details of the property. “I’ve always thought it was beautiful. The fields stretch on for miles and the Blue Ridge Mountains surround the whole area. And the smells,” I said, breathi
ng in deeply, “the scents in the air are amazing.”

  “The smells? What do you mean, like manure?”

  I let out a laugh. “No, not manure—I mean, you can smell that sometimes, too. But I was talking about the alfalfa hay that the horses eat. It smells so sweet, there’s nothing quite like it. Haven’t you ever been to a farm before?”

  “Not since I was a child. And all I remember about it was that a blood-hungry goat tried to eat my jacket. I never wanted to go back after that.”

  “Because a goat took a nibble at you?”

  “Hey, I was like three years old at the time. It was a traumatic experience!”

  “Well, you won’t have to worry about the goats at my family’s farm. They’re exceptionally well-behaved.”

  “Well-behaved goats?” He raised an eyebrow. “Is there even such a thing?”

  “Of course. Mags wouldn’t have it any other way. She’s got everyone and everything in tip-top shape. No one dares fall out of line—human and beast alike.”

  “She sounds like an amazing woman. I’m excited to finally meet the famous Mags.”

  “You should be,” I teased, throwing him a wink. “She’s really looking forward to it, too. I just spoke with her the other day. She wants to know why I haven’t brought you home sooner.”

  Christopher gave me a crooked smile. “Did you tell her I was in high demand?”

  “Of course. I told her the nurses couldn’t bear to part with you.” I looked down and saw my hands were trembling slightly. I guess I was more nervous about bringing Christopher home than I thought. It was strange; I wasn’t normally an anxious person, but then again I’d never taken a man home to introduce as my fiancé before. I had this gut feeling, an unnerving inkling in the back of my mind, that things were not going to go as smoothly as I would like. But that was crazy, Christopher was wonderful. There was no reason in the world why my family wouldn’t love him just as much as I did.

  A couple hours later, we entered the booming metropolis of Lakeside, Georgia, population 9,523. Everybody knew everybody here—the side effect of living in a small town—and if you weren’t up to date on all the local gossip, then you must be living under a rock. Teenage me hated that part of country life. I preferred to fly under the radar and couldn’t wait to get the hell out of Lakeside, just to enjoy some anonymity. Knowing that everyone knew your business was unnerving, and the world was so big. I couldn’t imagine staying in one tiny town for the rest of my life.

  Leaving behind the beautiful scenery and my close-knit family was the unfortunate technicality.

  As I took in the lush landscape and majestic beauty of the Blue Ridge Mountains, I felt a deep sense of appreciation and longing. The chaos of the city was far behind me now, and only peace and relaxation lay ahead. Suddenly, I ached to go horseback riding along one of the many local waterfalls or feel the thrill of a whitewater rafting adventure.

  Lakeside might be a small farming community, but it was overflowing with the splendors of tradition and culture. I felt a rush of pride as we drove through the downtown area, passing the great white gazebo in the park and the art gallery and specialty shops that lined Lake Lanier. Already I felt as if my spirit was renewed, and I hadn’t even made it to the farm yet.

  I saw Christopher’s eyes widen as we turned down the road my parents’ house was on. “This is the farm?” he asked, his voice full of surprise. “Your family takes care of all this?”

  “This is it.”

  My parents’ home was adjacent to my grandparents’ farmhouse, and the rolling fields spread out behind them as far as the eye could see. I couldn’t help but smile.

  Growing up, I had my share of responsibilities. When you’re born into family farm life, you have no choice but to get involved, so I really didn’t know any other way. Not every kid I knew lived on a farm; actually very few of my friends did, and I always felt as if they were missing out. I couldn’t imagine not waking up to the sound of the roosters every morning, or going horseback riding whenever the urge struck. It was safe to say that farm life was something I’d been missing since I moved to Atlanta, but judging from the look on Christopher’s face I knew he wouldn’t understand.

  “It’s so . . . big. How does your family do it?”

  “Well, they do have help. There are several farmhands that work here in the fields, taking care of the animals and the crops. It’s run just like any other business,” I said, rubbing the back of my fingers against his smooth cheek. He looked slightly unnerved, and I suppose I couldn’t blame him. He was about to meet my entire family for the first time, and he’d just learned that I—we—would be inheriting 1500 acres of profitable land someday. That was a lot to take in.

  I sat quietly in the passenger seat as Christopher maneuvered the car into a parking space, then sucked in an enormous breath after I realized my lungs were void of oxygen. Now’s not the time to quit breathing, I reminded myself. There hadn’t been many times in my life I could remember being that nervous. I bit the inside of my cheek, not knowing if I wanted to laugh or cry.

  The sound of my heartbeat crashed in my ears as we slid out of the car and walked to the stairs of the porch. I inhaled deeply, allowing the scents I had missed to fill me. Putting on my most reassuring smile, I reached for his hand and turned to him. “Here we go. Remember, my parents’ names are Carl and Renee. Now don’t be nervous, I know they’ll love you.”

  “I’m not nervous, Addy. And I am not going to call them by their first names. It would be rude. I’d like to make a good impression.”

  “Christopher, they’re easygoing people. They would probably feel weird if you called them anything but!”

  “I’m sticking with Mr. and Mrs. Monroe until they invite me to call them something otherwise.”

  Hiding my smile, I squeezed Christopher’s hand as we made our way up the front porch steps. It was funny; for as long as I had known him, I’d never seen him act out of place before. Even now. After getting over the initial shock of seeing the farm for the first time, he was the picture of calm confidence—it was as if he didn’t know any other way. Never once had he shown his vulnerable side, and I was starting to wonder if he had one. I suppose that’s what happened when you grew up in a family of doctors. Both of his parents were surgeons and his older sister was, as well.

  It was Christopher who didn’t go the surgical route. Life had always been simple for him, according to what he had shared with me about his childhood. Family vacations to Europe, private schools growing up. Things always seemed to come easy for him; he didn’t know any other way.

  We climbed the steps and before we even made it to the door, it opened wide and my parents stepped out.

  “Addy,” my mother said, pulling me in for a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you, honey!”

  I let her swallow me up, then stepped back and smiled. She was as pretty as she was when I was a child. There were just a few smile lines lingering around the corners of her eyes and mouth, but other than that she seemed untouched by the years. Her dark blond hair was still long, and she wore it up in a ponytail, giving her a youthful appearance.

  “It’s good to see you, too, Mom! And Dad,” I said, turning toward my father and falling into his embrace. I tucked my head into the crook of his neck and sighed, that gnawing, homesick feeling melting away.

  “You look happy, baby,” he whispered into my hair.

  “I am, Daddy.” I looked over my shoulder and stepped back. “I’d like you both to meet Christopher, my boyfriend.” Stepping aside, I smiled as my father reached for his hand.

  “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Monroe. Addy’s told me a lot about you.”

  “It’s good to meet you, too. And please, call me Carl.”

  The corner of Christopher’s lips turned up and he turned toward me with an expression that screamed, I told you so.

  I rolled my eyes just as my mother went in for the kill. “Christopher, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m Addy’s mom, and you can call me Renee
.” She threw her arms around his neck and brought him in for a healthy dose of Southern hospitality.

  “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am. You have a lovely home.”

  My mother was a big fan of the Colonial my father and she had built after they got married, and she loved nothing more than giving tours. “Well, come on in! I’ll show you around.” She smiled sweetly, looping her arm inside Christopher’s, guiding him inside. My dad shot me an amused look as we followed behind.

  It was good to be home.

  Chapter Twenty

  Dad checked the time on his wristwatch. “Okay, your grandparents are expecting us to be at their house for lunch. Let’s get a move on.” He grinned. “Have you shown Christopher to the guest bedroom?”

  “Mom’s showing him now. I think she likes him.” I smiled and rolled my eyes toward the heavens.

  Dad dropped his voice to a whisper. “I like him, too. You did good, baby girl.”

  I felt the smile on my face spread from ear to ear. There’s just something about having your daddy’s approval that makes a girl feel like a princess. I couldn’t stop the tears that filled my eyes. “I’m so glad,” I said, throwing myself into his arms.

  Dad stumbled backward and laughed. “Hey, is everything okay? Did you think we wouldn’t like him?”

  I shook my head against his chest. “No, it’s not that. I knew you’d like him. What’s not to like, right? He’s amazing. And he’s so good to me.”

  Dad pulled me in tighter and kissed the top of my head, just like he used to do when I was little. “I’m glad you found someone who loves you. You deserve every happiness this world has to offer.”

  Closing my eyes, I felt the tears slide down my cheeks, getting the front of my father’s flannel wet. “Thank you, Daddy. It’s good to be home. I’ve been missing Lakeside a lot lately. Atlanta’s great and all, but it’s not the same. I miss small-town life.”

  He ran his hand down the back of my head in one comforting gesture, and instantly my heart felt full in my chest. “I don’t know how you do it. Every time I’m away from the farm for too long, I feel as if I’m suffocating. You’re braver than I am, leaving home the way you did.”