Vintage Ladybug Farm

by Donna Ball

  “Well, if you all don’t take the cake,” observed Ida Mae sourly. “Yesterday, all you could do was fill up my kitchen with your dark thunderclouds because you didn’t get your way, and now it’s all sunshine and rosebuds because you ain’t got time to put in the work anyhow. I wish you’d make up your mind what it is you want, because you’re just about to give me a headache.”

  “‘All things work together for good to those that love the Lord,’” Noah said, rising to clear the table. “Romans 8:28.”

  “The Lord helps them that help themselves,” Ida Mae muttered, wiping down the countertop. “Ida Mae Simpson.”

  Noah didn’t notice the smothered grins that went around the table as he started scooping up the dishes and platters. One of his chores was to clear the breakfast dishes before he left for school in the mornings, and he did this now with dispatch, causing Paul to reach protectively for the waffle he hadn’t quite finished eating. “Sorry, folks, I’ve got to hustle. Assembly this morning and all the seniors are supposed to do something.”

  “What are they supposed to do?” asked Lindsay, handing him her plate and Cici’s.

  He shrugged, building an efficient tower of dishes. “Dunno. That’s why I’ve got to get there early.” He carried the swaying stack of dishes to the sink without breaking a single one and slid them into the soapy water with a flourish. “See ya!” He pulled on his jacket and backpack, snagged a set of keys from the hook by the door, and was gone before anyone at the table could draw breath for a reply. A cacophony of wild border collie barking followed his progress across the yard.

  “He certainly is a busy young man,” observed Derrick, sipping his coffee. “Always rushing here and there.”

  “All boys his age are like that,” said Lori sagely. “They only have one speed—full.” She glanced at her watch and gulped down the last of her juice. “Well, I guess I’d better get on the road. I don’t want to hit traffic coming into Charlottesville.”

  Cici hid her smile with her coffee cup. “Some girls are like that, too.”

  Lori tossed her a quick apologetic smile. “Sorry we didn’t get very far with the wedding. I promise I’ll put a guest list together before I see you next time, and I’ll tell Mark’s mother to fax you hers.”

  She stopped by Paul’s chair and dropped a kiss atop his head. “Thanks for bringing the dresses down, Uncle Paul. They just weren’t me, you know?”

  “I do. A bride’s gown should be her every dream come true.” He caught her fingers as she passed and kissed them. “What do you say we make a date to go shopping in DC in a month or so?”

  “Sounds fabulous.”

  “I’ll say!” exclaimed Lindsay. “Now that’s something to look forward to.”

  “We’ll get our hair and nails done,” said Bridget, clapping her hands together like a girl. “And have sushi for lunch.”

  “And get our own dresses for the wedding while we’re there,” added Cici. “And shoes.”

  “We might have to stay over,” cautioned Lindsay, looking pleased.

  “We have guest rooms in the suburbs,” Derrick volunteered.

  “See?” declared Bridget happily. “Who even needs a winery anyway?”

  Lori laughed. “Well, I guess it’s a date, then. Thanks for breakfast, Ida Mae. I’m going to get my things together and let Mark know I’m on my way. What is that dog still barking about?”

  But no sooner had she said it than there was a quick light rap on the back door and Dominic poked his head inside. “Good morning, everyone. I hope I’m not calling too early.”

  Lindsay quickly smoothed back her ponytail and straightened the cowl neck of her sweater. “Dominic! What are you doing here?”

  “We didn’t expect you,” clarified Bridget, standing to welcome him.

  “You missed breakfast,” said Ida Mae, taking down the coffee canister. “I’ll put on another pot.”

  “No, don’t,” he insisted. He unzipped his fleece-lined denim jacket as he came inside, rubbing the cold from his hands. “I’m not staying. I just came to bring some news I didn’t think could wait.”

  “Uh-oh,” said Lindsay, regarding him cautiously. “News that can’t wait is hardly ever a good thing around here.”

  But his eyes were sparkling and the flush on his cheeks might have been from more than the cold. From his inside jacket pocket he took a sheet of paper, unfolded it, and spread it out in the center of the table. Lindsay got up to read over Bridget’s shoulder, and Bridget put on her reading glasses. Cici squinted at the paper.

  “Wait a minute,” she said. “This looks like it’s from the bank.”

  “Ladybug Farm Winery, Inc.,” agreed Bridget, and then she gasped softly. “It’s a balance sheet.”

  Cici rubbed her eyes. “That can’t be right.”

  Lindsay snatched Bridget’s glasses and put them on, peering at the paper. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed.

  Lori grabbed the paper away, scrutinizing it. Her face lit up like a thousand Christmases. “It’s true! This is actual money! In our account! Your account, I mean. More than enough money to …” Her eyes went big as she stared at Dominic accusingly. “This had better not be a mistake. Tell me it’s not a mistake.”

  Paul and Derrick got up to read over Lori’s shoulder. “It looks real enough to me,” Paul declared, and Derrick agreed. “Ladies, you’re rich!”

  “We got the loan!” Cici cried, leaping to her feet. “The bank came through after all. The letter we got must have been a mistake.”

  Lori said uncertainly, “That doesn’t sound like something a bank would do.”

  Lindsay whirled and threw her arms around Dominic. “Thank you, thank you! This is the best surprise ever.”

  Cici hugged Lori and Bridget hugged Paul and Derrick hugged Ida Mae, who shrugged away irritably. All of them were laughing from sheer relief mixed with more than a little astonishment that, for once, the strange and unpredictable twists of fortune had somehow managed to actually favor them.

  And then Dominic said, “Okay, I will definitely try to be the bearer of good news more often. But …” he gave Lindsay’s shoulders a final, one-armed squeeze and looked around the room, “the bank didn’t come through. They were as surprised as I was. Happy for us, of course. But surprised.”

  The laughter left their eyes to be replaced by puzzlement. “What?” said Cici.

  Lindsay stepped away from him. “I don’t understand.”

  Lori said, “I told you banks don’t make that kind of mistake.”

  Ida Mae gave what might have been a grunt of satisfaction. “Guess you’ll be wanting that coffee now. “

  Everyone sat back down. Dominic pulled out a chair. “Frank Adams asked me to stop by and see him this morning. I figured he’d gotten a copy of the loan letter, his office being on file with the bank for all the paperwork, and he’d want to know what our plans were. But that wasn’t it. What he wanted was to let me know that late yesterday afternoon an anonymous investor—those were his words, anonymous investor—had transferred $100,000 into the Ladybug Farm Winery account. I knew you’d want to see it for yourself, so I had the bank print out a balance sheet for you.”

  Every pair of eyes at the table was fixed on him. In the background, the coffee pot gurgled.

  Lindsay was the first to speak. “Anonymous? What do you mean anonymous?”

  “It means,” supplied Derrick, “unknown or unnamed, as in …”

  “I know what it means! What I mean is—”

  “Who?” said Bridget, looking stunned. “Who just gives someone else that kind of money?”

  “Someone they don’t even know?”

  Lori said shrewdly, “But Mr. Adams, the lawyer, he knows who it is, doesn’t he?”

  “He’s ‘not at liberty to say,’” replied Dominic with a wry turn of his mouth. “But my guess is yes.”

  “Bizarre,” said Paul.

  “Certainly is,” agreed Derrick.

  Three pairs of eyes turned to them, one
by one, each in varying degrees of speculation. “Guys,” said Cici, “it’s not that we wouldn’t love you more than words if you did—”

  “And be forever grateful,” put in Bridget.

  “Not to mention forever in your debt,” added Lindsay.

  “But,” said Cici, “you didn’t …?”

  For a moment they looked baffled, and then Derrick held up his hands in protest. “Not that we didn’t wish we could—”

  “You know we’d give the world for you, darlings,” added Paul.

  “But it couldn’t have been them,” said Lori practically. “They didn’t have time. I mean, we were with them every single minute yesterday, and that kind of transaction takes at least a phone call.”

  “Sorry,” said Paul, and Derrick looked genuinely disappointed.

  “I’ve always wanted to be a hero,” he sighed.

  Lindsay slid an uncertain glance toward Dominic. “Dominic, you’d tell us, wouldn’t you, if we asked? Because there’s no need to be shy about it, if it was, you know—you. We’re already proud to have you as a partner, and it wouldn’t be awkward, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  But he stopped her with a rueful shake of his head. “I don’t know what kind of pension you think I have, but it’s not that much. All I can afford to invest in this business is my time. And yes.” He looked at Lindsay steadily. “I’d tell you.”

  Cici blew out a breath. “Wow. Just imagine. Someone gives you enough money to change your life, and you wouldn’t even know them if you passed them on the street.”

  Ida Mae plopped a coffee cup in front of Dominic and filled it, then went around the table, refilling the others. “Looks to me like you’d be counting your lucky stars instead of looking for faces on the street. Or maybe I forgot. You’re too busy to run a winery, right?”

  “Oh my God!” Lori bolted up from the table. “The custom crush—I told them to cancel it!”

  She ran through the house for the telephone, and in a moment, they heard her say, “Hello, this is Lori from Ladybug Farm Winery …” And everyone smiled.

  Then Derrick said speculatively, “You don’t suppose that fiancé of hers, the one with the rich parents …?”

  “The ones who loved our house,” added Bridget.

  “And dreamed of owning a winery,” said Cici, sinking back into her chair. “That’s it; it has to be.” And then, “Oh dear.” She glanced around the table uncertainly. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”

  “I know,” said Lindsay, frowning. “I mean, what’s the protocol? Do we send them a thank you card?”

  “At least, I should think,” offered Paul.

  “We could name a vintage after them,” suggested Bridget.

  Cici pulled a skeptical face. “Diane or Jonathon?”

  “It wasn’t Mark’s parents,” Lori announced, returning to the room. “I just got off the phone with him. He said they’ve been over the Pacific since yesterday afternoon and he couldn’t have called them if he wanted to … which he did,” she assured them. “He wanted me to tell you that. The crush is being delivered next Friday,” she added without drawing a breath, “providing they receive a deposit by Monday. They’re e-mailing the invoice. Gotta go, really, love you all.” She blew kisses all around. “So happy for you. This is the best thing ever!”

  She was gone in a flurry of whirling cape and rolling luggage and hugs all around. Then, just as she was getting into her car, she turned and called back, “Cabernet! Cabernet and rosé, those are my colors!”

  She blew another kiss and got into the car, leaving everyone standing on the porch, shivering and waving and celebrating their triumph with shared grins.

  “Next Friday!” exclaimed Bridget when she was gone, hugging her arms. “That doesn’t give us much time to get the place cleaned up.”

  Dominic said, “We need to start sanitizing the tanks as soon as possible. I can get most of the supplies we need in town.”

  “That definitely sounds like our cue to leave,” announced Paul, holding the door for Bridget and Derrick as they hurried inside.

  Cici murmured thoughtfully, “I have to make a phone call,” and followed them in.

  Lindsay lingered, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jeans and hunching her shoulders against the chill as she smiled up at Dominic. “Pretty exciting, huh? It’s really going to happen.”

  Dominic nodded, but his expression was somber. “I’m glad we have a chance to talk privately,” he said, “because now that we’re officially business partners, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. It’s a little delicate.”

  “Oh.” The excitement in Lindsay’s eyes faded into disappointment, which she quickly tried to neutralize. She straightened her shoulders and cleared her throat, trying to look mature and relaxed. “I know. I’m glad you brought it up. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the same thing.”

  He tilted his head slightly. “Have you now?”

  She nodded, digging her hands more deeply into her pockets. “Dominic, I really like you,” she began.

  “I’m glad,” he said. “Because I really like you, too.”

  “But there’s an awful lot at stake here, for all of us, and I wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize our working relationship.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “Me, either. Which is why I think it’s best we get this out in the open now and come up with a plan. You like plans, am I right?”

  “Absolutely.” Her tone was vigorous. “There’s nothing you can’t do if you just have a plan.”

  “So what would you say is the first step in solving this little problem we seem to have?”

  “The first step is always acknowledging the problem,” she said confidently.

  “I thought so. So the problem is …” He looked at her, assessing. “How am I going to concentrate on my work and do my partners justice, if all I can think about is kissing you?”

  Surprised color came to her cheeks, and he insisted in mock earnestness, “That is the problem you were talking about, isn’t it?”

  Lindsay fought and lost the battle against the smile that dimpled the corners of her mouth. “I’m starting to understand why Frenchmen have the reputation they do.”

  “Fortunately,” he said, musing, “I think I may have a solution to this dilemma. For the good of the company, of course.”

  “Of course,” she agreed, tilting her head in amusement.

  “My plan is this,” he said. “We solve the problem by dispensing with the awkwardness and simply get the kiss over with. With your permission, of course.”

  Her breath was coming a little unsteadily now, and her voice was not as strong as she might have liked. But she admitted, “Sounds reasonable.”

  The spark that danced in his eyes was both tender and delightfully amused. “When do you think might be a good time?”

  “For what?”

  “To get it over with.”

  She said, with her heart beating so loudly the words were barely audible, “How about now?”

  She stepped forward and wrapped her arms about his neck and kissed him.

  ~*~

  Cici didn’t reach her ex-husband until after supper, 7:00 eastern time, 4:00 in LA. At first, she was a little awkward. “Listen, Richard,” she said, lowering her voice so as not to be overheard by Ida Mae, who was clearing up dishes in the other room, or her housemates, who were busy getting themselves settled for the evening, “I don’t know what got into you, but … thank you.”

  “For what?” he sounded distracted.

  “You know.” She glanced around, trying hard not to be overheard. “Yesterday. I know we have our differences, but in one way, nobody’s better than you. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I … well, I appreciate that.”

  “For God’s sake, Cici, you’re on speaker phone.” A click and he sounded exasperated as he demanded, “What are you talking about?”

  Now she was exasperated, too. “You know, the money! L
ori must have called you. I told her not to, but—”

  “Oh, cripes.” He groaned. “I forgot. Tell her the check’s in the mail. I’ll make sure it goes out today.”

  Cici blinked. “The check?”

  “For the wedding. And listen; don’t try to hold me up for more. We agreed when Lori started college to put aside twenty thousand for her wedding, and if it’s more than that, you’ll just have to figure it out. That’s what I told her, and that’s what I’m telling you. I’m not an ATM, you know.”

  Cici’s head was spinning. “Wait a minute. You haven’t talked to Lori since you talked about the wedding?”

  He said, “Okay, listen, I already feel like crap about this, so just don’t go off the deep end, okay? I was going to call her tonight. I’m not going to make it back east for her graduation. I’ll be there to walk her down the aisle, I’ll be there as long as she wants me for the wedding, but I’ve got this hot new client in Australia, and he starts shooting a blockbuster in May—so top secret I can’t even say the director’s name on the phone—and if I don’t babysit him the whole first week, the whole damn thing might blow up. So I’m sorry, but graduation isn’t going to happen for me, and if you think you can make me feel any worse than I already do, you just go ahead and try.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Cici’s voice rose to a screech, the reason for her original phone call all but forgotten. “Are you really kidding me? Your only daughter, her only college graduation—do you have any idea how hard she’s worked for this? How hard I’ve worked? And you can’t even be bothered to show up? Do you know how this is going to make her feel? The child worships you, although why, I can’t begin to imagine! And this is how you react to the greatest accomplishment of her life?”

  He said darkly, “True to form, Cici. I knew you just had to try to make me feel worse.”

  And for the next quarter hour, that was exactly what she did.

  ~*~

  “Well, it wasn’t Richard.” Cici blew out a heavy sigh and dropped into a wing chair, swinging her feet up on to the ottoman. She held out her wine glass for a refill.