Page 29 of The Best Man Wins

You have no idea, sweet one. I keep my tongue behind my teeth, however, and let out a brief laugh before leaning back.

She takes the bottle in her hand and investigates it. Even I like the packaging on this one—the bottle itself is teal green and cloudy, as though it’s been sand-beaten.

“Why the name?” Susie asks as she puts the bottle back down. “Sea Glass?”

“Cora and I grew up on Montauk. When I was a kid, we used to walk up and down the beach collecting sea glass and pretend it was pirate treasure. I always liked the stuff. It takes a beating and just gets prettier. Not a diamond, but rough and beautiful in its own right.”

I can hear Susie’s smile in her voice. “I think that’s romantic.”

“Maybe. For a nine-year-old.”

Through the screen, I can see bright stars poking holes in the inky night sky.

“Aren’t you sharing?” she asks and swivels her glass.

I shrug lightly. “I don’t drink.”

“What?” Here we go. “But…”

“But how can I own a vineyard without drinking? It’s pretty simple. I just don’t partake on the product.”

“Oh,” she says, though she still sounds unsure. “Isn’t it hard, though?”

“No. Less questions. More drinking.”

She obliges and tips her glass to her lips.

“How did the tasting go?” I ask.

“Poorly,” she sighs. She shifts in her spot, and her toes press against my thigh. She pauses briefly and stares into her glass. “I think you might be right,” she admits. She sounds morose when she says it.

“About?”

“Ray.” The chains of the porch swing creak lightly. “There’s just…something weird going on with him and one of his…lady friends.”

My back molars grind together, and my grip tightens around the neck of the wine bottle. “Do you think he’s cheating on my sister?”

She must see the murder in my eyes, because she lifts her palm. “No! No…nothing like that. Just…” She sighs. “I don’t know. There’s something unresolved there. I have a sixth sense about these things.”

“Right.” I glance over at her. She’s staring off and running her fingertip around the rim of her glass distractedly. “Unresolved issues,” I prompt. “Something you know from experience?”

“Hey, whoa, look who’s asking questions now.” Susie lifts a finger. “If I can’t do it, neither can you.”

As much as I try not to, a small smile quirks the corner of my mouth. “Fair enough.”

The porch swing rocks lightly in the silence that follows. Outside, grasshoppers chirp and hiss.

“Cynthia said something interesting over cake.”

“Oh?”

“About you. And her.” Susie puts her glass to her lips but looks at me with big, questioning eyes.

I snort a laugh. “What happened to no questions?”

“That’s not a question. It’s a statement.”

I sigh. “Well, here’s another statement. I never had sex with Cynthia, if that’s what she’s implying.” I lapse into thought briefly and then continue. “I went through a phase, certainly. But she was not part of it.”

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