Right All Along
Page 26
“Here you are,” said Frankie before running back outside to the goat pen.
“Anything interesting?” asked Jack from where he stood on a ladder, screwing a light bulb into the ceiling.
Harley ripped open an envelope made of heavy white card stock. “Your sister-in-law’s getting married in June in Portland,” she read, leaning against the counter. “We’re invited.”
“Cait.” Jack looked down from his ladder. “Good for her.”
“And . . .” She slit open the next envelope and pulled out the enclosed card. “We are cordially invited to the home of Mrs. Melinda Friestatt and Mr. Alfred Ricasoli for Thanksgiving dinner. Réspondez s’il vous plaît.”
“I think we should go,” said Harley.
“I still don’t know how you managed to just brush off everything Mother did to you.”
“Melinda has no power to hurt me anymore.”
“As long as she holds the reins of the company, she still controls me.”
“She’s your mother, Jack.”
* * *
When Jack and his family arrived at the estate on Thanksgiving Day, their coats were taken by a member of the catering staff.
The girls went immediately to Alfred, watching football on TV.
“I’d almost forgotten how stuffy this place is,” Jack said under his breath.
“Shh,” replied Harley. “It’s just one dinner.” Harley glanced across the room at where the twins were talking animatedly to Alfred and smiled contentedly.
“Jack. Harley. I’m so glad you came.” Melinda leaned into Harley and gave her an air kiss.
Then it was Jack’s turn.
Harley’s elbow poked him in the ribs.
“I brought you something.” He handed his mother the simple white box tied with twine.
“How lovely.” She passed it to a servant standing behind her. “I’ll open it later.”
“No—open it now.”
Melinda raised an eyebrow. “If you insist.” Taking the box back, she pulled on the twine and lifted the lid. In the light of the hall chandelier, the newly polished silver shone. She gasped as her hand flew to her pearls. She picked up a spoon and examined the monogram. “Jack! My spoons. Where did you ever—”
“Don’t ask. Just take them and be happy.”
“I’ve been searching for those spoons for years! Now I have a full set again.”
“Anyone up for throwing the pigskin around?” asked Alfred, tossing a football in his hands.
“Ew. Is that what footballs are made of—pigskin?” asked Frankie.
“Just an old turn of phrase,” said Tuck, setting his hand on Frankie’s shoulder and nudging her toward the door.
* * *
A half hour later, Harley stumbled away from the action, clutching her side. “You guys keep playing,” she puffed. “I need a break.”
“Side stitch,” yelled Jack, as confident of his diagnosis as if he had an MD behind his name.
“I’m out, too,” panted Mom, following Harley across the close-cropped lawn.
“You okay, honey?”
“Fine. Never could run.”
“You can thank your dad’s genes for that,” said Mom.
They fell into cushioned lawn chairs, trying to catch their breath.
Harley couldn’t help but notice Griffin galloping around the yard, pretending to be part of the game. He was going on two now.
Angelique would be almost one, thought Harley. She wondered where she was today . . . what she looked like. After all this time, she had begun to let go of the hope that she would ever have a baby of her own.
As always when that sinking feeling threatened to swamp her, Harley reminded herself of her many blessings. “I got another nice royalty check yesterday,” she said proudly.
She hadn’t gone back to the club after losing the baby. And as for the B and B, the twins had claimed two of her guest rooms after they had turned twelve and decided they wanted rooms of their own, and she’d converted the nursery into a place for them to study—though she couldn’t bring her self to repaint the blue walls.
“Good for you. That’s wonderful.”
“I was thinking. If you get tired of cleaning houses, maybe I could help you out a little, so you don’t have to.”
“That’s awful sweet of you. It’s not much, but as long as I still have the energy, I kinda like making my own money.” She sighed, and gazed around at the manicured grounds. “Feels weird not cooking on Thanksgiving. I asked Melinda if I could help, but the whole meal’s catered.”
“I’m just hoping Jack will be able to relax enough to eat without getting indigestion,” chuckled Harley.
“Hey. You got him to show up, didn’t you? Baby steps.”
* * *
“Is this real silver?” Cindy whispered to Harley as they scooted into their chairs.
“How are your dance lessons going?” Mother asked Frankie.
Under the table, Jack kicked Harley and grinned. She had been the one to scout them out.
“Good! We have a recital in the spring. Maybe you can come.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Please pass the turkey,” Frankie asked Jack.
He arched a brow as he handed her the platter.
“Don’t worry. Mimi promised me this turkey lived a happy life eating grass and bugs and crickets.”
“Mmm.” Jack looked around the table, daring anyone to disagree.
“Freddie tell you she was picked for the all-star team?” Tucker asked Alfred. Those two had hit it off like gangbusters.
“Don’t you miss playing piano?” Mother interjected.
“Hm-mm,” she said, shaking her head, her mouth full of mashed potatoes.
The entire meal was like that—the adults making forced conversation over the kids’ heads. Somehow they made it through the main course.
Melinda tapped her water glass with her spoon. “Could I have everyone’s attention? Before dessert is served, there’s something I’d like to say.”
Jack sighed and shifted his weight. All that was left was coffee and pie, and then they could hightail it out of there until the next holiday rolled around.
“Thirty years ago, I married Don Friestatt believing we would both live forever. Isn’t that what we all think, starting out? But only thirteen years later, I found myself faced with parenting a teenage son and running a burgeoning wine business, alone.”
Freddie yawned.
“I’ve made my share of mistakes throughout the years. If I took the time to list them all, we would be eating our pumpkin pie at midnight.”
Cindy gazed around at the well-appointed dining room, Tuck coughed behind his hand, and Alfred twiddled his dessert spoon.
“Suffice it to say that there are two people—” She nodded at Jack. “Two men—who never left my side.
“Alfred. Your loyalty has been obvious in everything you do. Your commitment to excellence has propelled our company forward by leaps and bounds. Without you, I don’t know where we’d—where I’d be today.”
Alfred bowed his head humbly.
“And my dear son, Jack.”
What was this? Jack braced himself for more empty platitudes.
“We’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we—”
To Jack’s surprise, he saw tears spring to his mother’s eyes.
“—the good, the bad and everything in between? It’s taken me a while, but I’ve come to recognize and value your unique perspective in business and in life. This was your first year in deciding when to harvest, and your timing couldn’t have been better. All signs point to this vintage being our best ever.
“And so, I’d like to announce that starting today, I am promoting you to CEO of Arabella Cellars. Not that I’m going anywhere.” She held up a finger. “No such luck. But you’ve proved that it’s time for me to step aside and let you take the lead.” She raised her wineglass. “I wish you every success.”
Murmurs of “hear, hear,
” were heard around the table as glasses clinked. Harley started the applause, the others joining in.
* * *
When they got back to Honeymoon Haven, the girls ran ahead of them.
Jack slung his arm around Harley and gave her a companionable squeeze. He tilted his head, and into her ear, he said, “I give ye fair warning . . . Captain Jack is bound to plunder ye tonight.”
She was in a sentimental mood. She laid her head on his shoulder as they walked. “It hasn’t been easy for us, has it?”
“Aye, lass, but it’s been worth it. You know how ’tis with us. The rougher the seas, the smoother we sail. Ye make me feel like I’m seventeen again. Ahoy!” With a grunt, he swept her off her feet to a squeal. Then he carried her over the threshold where he set her on her feet, tossed his coat across the back of the couch, and headed toward his favorite chair.
“I think I’ll go upstairs and rest for a little while,” she said.
He frowned. “You look a little pale. Are you okay?”
She smiled softly. “Just tired.”
Sometime later, he was startled awake from his post-feast nap by the soft pad of footsteps. He blinked to see Harley come into the room. Frankie was still curled up on the couch, and Freddie lay on the floor, reading a comic.
“Must have dozed off for a minute.” He stretched and yawned. “Feeling any better?”
Silver glinted in her palm. Suddenly he was wide-awake. “What’s that?” he asked, fingers of dread creeping over him. Had the holidays triggered a bout of grief? They’d already had enough heartache to last a lifetime.
Frankie glanced up from her book. “That’s the rattle we got her for Christmas.”
Her hand on her flat stomach, Harley flashed a Mona Lisa smile. “There’s a chance it might come in handy after all.”
Jack sprang to his feet. He took her by the arms, every fiber of his being on alert. “Cramps,” he said, chills shooting down his spine. “You have cramps.”
Freddie and Frankie turned as crimson as the chair Mrs. Grimsky had left behind.
“I just remembered I have homework.” Freddie scrambled to her feet and hurried past them.
“Er, time to feed the goats,” said Frankie, and she was gone, too.
Harley floated into Jack’s embrace. For a moment he rocked her gently from side to side. Then he pulled back and gazed downward, his eyes melting into hers. “I love you, Harley.” He swallowed, tasting saltwater. “Always have, always will.”
Love Heather Heyford?
Then be sure to check out the other books in
The Willamette Valley series
THE SWEET SPOT
And
FIRST COMES LOVE
And read her other series
The Napa Wine Valley Heiresses
and
The Oregon Wine Country Romances!
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