by J. C. Eaton
“We’ll need more than soil raking,” Glenda said. “I sense Two Witches will be on unsteady ground until the summer solstice.”
Chapter 2
With that, Glenda grabbed two boxes of crackers and headed back to the tasting room.
“What the heck was that all about?” I asked Cammy.
“You know how she is. Spirits, séances, heaven knows. If you ask me, she must have consumed lots of those magic brownies back in the sixties.”
We both laughed but not until making sure Glenda was out of earshot.
“Listen,” Cammy said, “I’m not telling you what to do, but you may want to let the rest of the tasting room crew know about the film company. I don’t think the winemakers are going to be all that fazed. But the vineyard guys will pitch a fit if the vines are destroyed.”
“Right. Might as well get this over with.”
“I’ve got to unload the dishwasher and then I’ll be back in the tasting room. By the way, do you have a preference for our cheese dish? We narrowed it down to Cheesy Mushroom Pancetta Bread Pudding or Southwest Baked Mac and Cheese with jalapeños and creole seasonings.”
“Go for the mac and cheese. Anytime I hear the word pancetta, I think it’s going to involve more work. Besides, who doesn’t love mac and cheese?”
“Mac and cheese it is. I already checked with the other wineries in our little group, and none of them are serving that. Rosalee Marbleton from across the road at Terrace Wineries is doing quesadillas. I ran into her at Wegmans this weekend along with Catherine Trobert from Lake View. They’re doing Georgian Cheese Bread. Gee, I guess you’d better notify them about the film crew, huh?”
“Oh, good grief! Once Stephanie Ipswich gets word of it, there’ll be no stopping her. And once Gavin Chase gets a look at her, there’ll be no stopping him! With her long honey-blond hair and that figure of hers, no man is safe around here.”
“She’s married, isn’t she? With twins.”
“That doesn’t stop her from flirting. The woman has mastered the hair flip like nobody’s business. Oh, it doesn’t matter. By the time word gets out, every hair-flipping woman from Geneva to Watkins Glen will be here. And every college guy in the Finger Lakes will be stalking Priscilla McCoy. Darn it. Why couldn’t we have brutal weather like they do in the Niagara corridor?”
“Get a grip. It’ll be fine. Then again, once my mother and my aunts find out, who knows what they’ll do? And don’t tell me to keep it a secret or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
I let out a long sigh. “Tell them. Tell everyone. Send a tweet. If nothing else, it’ll drum up business.”
I walked back into the tasting room and perused the tables. The handful of customers that I’d noticed a few minutes ago had swelled. Glenda, Sam, and Roger all had full tables. Typical for a Friday morning this time of year. I skirted past the tables and waved, keeping an ear out for the conversation. Usually it was about wine, wine pairings, and local attractions, but sometimes, in Roger’s case, it was about the French and Indian War. It was a passion of his and, in the blink of an eye, customers found themselves listening to Roger recount how General Edward Braddock was killed and his army ambushed by the French when the last thing they remembered asking was “Does this wine go well with fish?”
Thankfully, the only murmurings I heard had to do with wine. Lizzie, our bookkeeper/cashier, was stationed at the small counter by the entrance. With her wire-rimmed glasses perched midway down her nose and her short, tightly curled gray hair, she reminded me of those early-eighteenth-century renderings of Mother Goose. As I approached her counter, she looked up from the computer screen.
“Good morning, Norrie. I said good morning earlier but you raced into the kitchen. I wasn’t sure you heard me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I had to catch Cammy before things got hectic around here.”
“Just wait until the Wine and Cheese Festival. It’ll give hectic a whole new meaning. I’ve been keeping track of the tickets the wine trail sold, and so far we’re up to two hundred and ten. That’s a record for so early in the year.”
“Wow. At least it’s just one weekend and not two like the holiday events.”
“True. And unlike the fall, I doubt many tourists will want to pose in our vineyards for those self-photos that seem to be so popular. The ground will be snowy and muddy. Not exactly a postcard scene.”
“Um, about that, we may have tourists in our vineyards because the movie production company that handles my screenplays plans to film a scene in the vineyards that weekend. I got a call last night from my producer.”
“Oh, dear.” Lizzie shoved her eyeglasses farther up the bridge of her nose and widened her eyes. “Couldn’t they pick another weekend?”
“Don’t I wish. And it’s not just the weekend. It may be all week. Seven people in all, including the production crew and the actors. Priscilla McCoy and Gavin Chase.”
“Never heard of them. Then again, I’m not much of a movie buff.”
Just then, Sam darted over to the counter, his red hair flying all over his forehead. “Priscilla McCoy? Did I hear you say Priscilla McCoy is going to be here?”
“Uh-huh. You heard right. Along with Gavin Chase.”
“Did you guys hear that?” he announced to the group of wine tasters that had just finished up at his table. “Priscilla McCoy.”
“Hope your winery has lots of fire extinguishers because she’s smoking hot!” one of men exclaimed. The red-haired woman standing next to him jabbed him in the arm.
At that moment, Glenda’s group, along with Roger’s, vacated their tables and were now scoping out the wines and gift items.
“I’m telling you, Norrie,” Glenda said. “You need to cleanse the winery.”
“Spray it with Lysol and call it a day.” Sam looked directly at me. “When is she getting here? How long is she staying? I hate to duck out on some of my college classes but holy cow! How often does an opportunity like that come someone’s way?”
“It’s not an opportunity. She’s filming a movie. Actually, one scene. One lousy scene in our vineyard. And she better not be a prima dona. We had enough of those at the Chocolate and Wine Festival.”
“Okay, fine,” Sam said. “What day? When?”
“I’m not exactly sure but it doesn’t matter. They’ll be outside and we’ll be in here greeting all of our visitors for Wine and Cheese.”
He shook his head and laughed. “That’s what you think. Face it, the papers will get wind of it, and don’t get me started about social media. If it’s a done deal, it’s probably trending by now somewhere.”
The minute he said trending, I froze. “Look, would one of you do me a favor and let Fred and Emma in the bistro know? I’d better give Franz the heads-up before he has a conniption. And John, too.”
“Are you going over to the barn or the winery lab?” Sam asked.
“Nope. My office. Much easier to call them.”
“Chicken.”
Glenda pointed to the entrance and started back to her table. “I’ll take these customers. Sam can share the impending disaster with our chefs.”
“It’s not an impending disaster,” I replied. “An inconvenience perhaps. Or maybe even a nuisance, but it’s not going to be a disaster.”
Who the heck am I kidding?
Suddenly, I was the only one standing in the middle of the room. Glenda was back at her table and Sam was off to spread the news to Fred and Emma.
“Lost or meditating?” Cammy asked. I was so engrossed in my own thoughts I hadn’t heard her footsteps behind me.
“Huh?”
“Relax, we’ve been through worse. What can possibly go wrong?”
• • •
I echoed those words to Don and Theo later that night when we met for dinner at Port of Call, a neat lakeside restaurant with a fabulous deck and even better food. We had gotten there by seven and were able to snag a great table by the large gas fireplace that spanned the entire wall in their main dinin
g room.
“Enjoy it now,” Theo said. “Once April hits, we’ll be jammed into the bar like sardines waiting for a table to vacate. Ugh. Tourists.”
Don centered the votive candle on our table and smiled. “Tourists who keep us in business. It’s a double-edged sword. And speaking of swords, what makes Glenda so uneasy about the filming?”
I rubbed my temples. “Glenda’s uneasy about everything. The moon’s orbit, the seasonal shifts, red tides somewhere in the world, who knows? And those are just the earthly things. She really gets freaked out about restless spirits who aren’t able to move on.”
Don shuddered. “Yeesh. At least the movie production will take place in the real world. Say, you never mentioned who’s going to be in that scene. Did they tell you?”
“Uh-huh. Priscilla McCoy and Gavin Chase.”
“Gavin Chase? Why didn’t you tell us sooner? How long were you going to wait? Gavin Chase! Right here in the Finger Lakes. When? When is he getting here? Where’s he staying? Did they tell you?”
“Get a grip, big boy.” Theo grabbed Don by the wrist and held on. “He’s a seasoned actor and you’re an adult. Pull yourself together.”
Don sat up straight and ran his hand under his chin. “I need to lose ten pounds before the Wine and Cheese event.”
Theo rolled his eyes and laughed. “Have you looked at tonight’s specials?”
Don picked up the menu and bit his lower lip. “I’ll look into that keto diet tomorrow.”
“Good grief. Everyone’s getting worked up about those two actors. If I’m not careful, Sam will be crouched down in a vineyard somewhere stalking Priscilla. And from what Cammy told me, her aunts might not be any better as far as Gavin Chase is concerned. And these are the people we know. I can’t even imagine how the public will deal with it.”
“Forget the public,” Theo said. “How did John take the news?”
“Horribly. He’s positive we’ll be overrun by curiosity seekers and movie star fans who’ll think nothing of trampling our vineyards to get a better look. Or worse yet, selfies. The last time our vineyard was besieged like that was when those poor vineyard guys found a body in the Riesling section. Apparently yellow crime scene tape doesn’t mean much.”
“What do you intend to do?”
“John and his crew will rope off the area once we know exactly what part of the vineyard the movie company plans to use. They’ll also post signs.”
“Rope and signs aren’t going to hold a crowd back. Too bad you can’t hire some barroom bouncers,” Theo said.
“Oh, my gosh. I can. Well, not exactly barroom bouncers, but Cammy’s two college nephews, Marc and Enzo. They’re tall, muscular, and pretty sure of themselves. They go on spring break in three weeks. And I’ll insist the movie company pay their wages. Knowing those two kids, they’ll chomp at the bit to be part of ‘the protection detail.’”
Don winced. “They’re not bodyguards.”
“No,” I said. “They’ll be providing protection for the vines, not the actors.”
At that moment, the waiter arrived to take our orders. Firecracker egg rolls and shrimp chowder for me and the appetizer medley for Don and Theo, until they could make up their minds what they wanted for an entrée.
Don took a cheesy breadstick from the basket on the table and bit the tip. “Maybe we’re all overreacting and word of the production won’t leak out on social media or the news.”
I shook my head. “The tourists will notice something when they see a film crew at our winery.”
“Tell them you’re filming a documentary about winemaking. Nothing bores customers more than hearing the words film and documentary in the same sentence.”
Just then, my phone vibrated and I checked the screen. It was a text from Cammy and it read, “Brace yourself. Two Witches is on the news.”
Chapter 3
I tapped my news app and froze. “Channel 13 WHAM out of Rochester just announced that actors Priscilla McCoy and Gavin Chase will be filming at Two Witches Winery in Penn Yan, commencing in three weeks. It says ‘sources at their hotel in Geneva shared the news today.’”
“Nice of them not to mention the name of the hotel,” Don said. “Maybe we should notify Channel 13 of that little tidbit.”
Luckily the waiter arrived and placed a steaming hot bowl of chowder in front of me. For an instant I forgot how ticked off I was. My news from Renee wasn’t even twenty-four hours old and now everyone in hell’s creation knew about it.
“How much do you want to bet there’ll be three phone calls waiting for me when I get home? Stephanie, Madeline, and Catherine from our WOW group.”
“Not Rosalee?” Don asked.
Theo chuckled and grabbed a cheesy breadstick. “Rosalee’s probably asleep by now. Besides, she doesn’t give a hoot about Priscilla or Gavin. I doubt she even knows who they are. Now, if it was someone from back in her day, say William Holden or Clark Gable, she might bat an eyelash. Still, I wouldn’t bet on it.”
I spooned a large shrimp from my chowder and devoured it. “This whole thing has nightmare written all over it and we’re three weeks away.”
The waiter returned with the appetizer medley and my firecracker egg rolls. For the next few minutes none of us said a word.
Finally, Theo broke the silence. “What do you say we order another appetizer medley and the three of us can share it?”
“Works for me,” I said. “I can’t believe I’m still hungry. Must be nerves.”
He hailed the waiter back to our table and placed the order.
“Prosciutto parmesan palmiers,” Don said once the waiter left.
I widened my eyes. “You’re ordering that, too? I didn’t see it on the menu.”
“No, it’s what we’re serving for the Wine and Cheese event. It’s a recipe I’ve been meaning to try for a while. It should pair nicely with our Riesling.”
“Mac and cheese for us,” I replied. “I’d pair it with grape juice but they’d throw me off the wine trail.”
“Hmm, speaking of grape juice, is John planning on adding more vineyards for the Concord grapes?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure. The only reason we grow those grapes is to sell the juice to distributors. Oh, and to give Francine something else she can use to make jellies and jam other than strawberries or raspberries. It’s not like we make Concord wine. Not much of a demand except for the kosher wines and most of them are produced on the other side of the lake.”
“Clearing off more unused land for vineyards makes sense because that demand may grow,” Don said. “With the new Empire State Business Incentive, more companies are starting up in the region. I read recently that one of them is a huge candy manufacturing company that plans to pull out of Mexico and relocate to the Finger Lakes. In fact, they were scoping out that old industrial park in Geneva. They’ll have to buy their grape juice from somewhere.”
My napkin slid from my lap and I grabbed it before it landed on the floor. “But that means less product for the local grape juice producers.”
Don nodded. “I know. It could cause a real divide for wineries. True, it may drive up the price, but it will create a rift. I mean, who do we sell to and how much?”
At that moment, the second appetizer tray arrived and we wasted no time selecting our favorites.
“The candy company is a ways off,” Theo said. “But remember, it takes years for the root stock to grow. No harm in starting early. We already ordered Concord root stock last fall. It’ll be delivered in a few weeks. Just in time for spring planting.”
“Hmm. Guess I’d better double-check with John.”
• • •
However, worrying about selling grape juice was the last thing on John’s mind. He was as nervous as hell about visitors wreaking havoc in our vineyards. This time of year, his crew was pressed for time making sure they completed the pruning before budbreak. Once the leaves came out on the canes, it was difficult to prune due to the risk of knocking off the emerging
buds.
And pruning wasn’t all. The vineyard workers needed to remove the mounds of soil that they’d plowed over the vine grafts in the fall to protect them in winter. And then there was the cleanup. I was sure there was a professional word for it, but essentially the vineyard guys gathered the pruned canes from the ground, bundled them up, and dragged them out of the rows to be picked up and discarded.
The thought of having a film crew in the midst of the tight spring schedule gave John a pit in his stomach that “won’t be gone until they are.” His words.
• • •
I kept out of John’s way for the next two and a half weeks. Mainly because I didn’t want to aggravate him any further. Same deal with Franz in the winery lab. Franz took the news better than John. He ordered giant signs that read Verboten to replace the smaller ones that said Employees Only. He figured the word Verboten would scare people off.
A new and larger sign was placed on the gate to Alvin’s pen, adjacent to the tasting room. It read Please do not feed the goat. We will not be responsible if he upchucks on you. Yes, a goat. A Nigerian dwarf goat to be exact. Apparently my sister and brother-in-law thought it would be a nice addition to the family-friendly winery. And while Alvin seemed to enjoy the attention and head pats from children, the same couldn’t be said about his reaction whenever I approached his pen. Usually he spat at me. Needless to say, I tried not to visit with him.
With the film crew slated to arrive on the Friday before Wine and Cheese, everyone in the tasting room seemed to be on high alert. Sam started shaving and even broke down and bought new jeans. Glenda told us she started a new ritual—meditation bowls. And even Cammy’s hair boasted new highlights. The only ones who seemed to be oblivious were Roger and Lizzie.
As for Fred and Emma, I wasn’t sure, but that changed on the Tuesday prior to the arrival of our guests. I got an early-morning phone call from Renee telling me she was sending one of the camera operators along with the film director’s assistant a few days early so they could check out the logistics. It was less than a five-hour drive from Toronto, and the weather was mild for April. The men would check into the hotel late at night and check out Two Witches the following day.
