Page 117 of Again, In Autumn

“Ow,” I say calmly, “That hurts.”

“Go find him!” she screams. “It’s going to get dark soon and he’s –”

“Fran.” I grab both of her shaking hands. Her voluminous curled hair flies in front of her face as she spins around frantically. People begin to stare.

I tell her, “I will go find him. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Adam answers steadily, “He’s right there.”

We look up to see Grayson laying on the grass, staring up at the darkening clouds, yelling at Alice to not step on him.

“He must have just been behind a tree,” Adam says.

My heart pounds. When Francesca goes to these extremes, I all but lose my own sense of sanity. I stay outwardly calm because she needs me to be, but inside I soak up her heightened energy – skyrocketing blood pressure, nervous shaking, instant sweating.

For her, it’s over as soon as it began.

“Oh,” she relaxes. She drags her nails through her hair. “Let’s go to dinner, then!” She waves her arm at her family until David sees her, pockets his phone, grabs Alice’s hand.

Francesca walks off, and I take a moment to breathe.

Adam’s thoughts don’t escape, but his eyes focus heavy on my face as I follow my sister out of the garden, but don’t let him hold my hand this time.

Caroline and Kate meet us at the door. Caroline looks cute, as always, and I’ll bet someone just asked Kate if she won the Miss North Carolina pageant last year. She tugs on the sides of her stretchy, skintight dress.

“Vienna!” She grabs my hand. “Isn’t this place gorgeous? Mackenzie was telling me all about the mood lighting out here at night. He’s going to do fireworks at Christmas. We have to come back at Christmas!”

I nod, watching a curl fall over her eyes.

“Mackenzie said that all the wine is sourced from his vineyard in California. He has a vineyard!” she gushes.

“Uh-huh.”

“And he said they’re going to do weddings in the Spring. How romantic would this place be for a wedding? I am getting married here.”

“Well, sure.”

Adam offers, “Mackenzie is a really, really great guy.”

She squeals, “I know!” and walks off.

I glance at his expression when they’ve all gone back inside the building. “Do you feel rejected?” I poke.

He stares back. “No.” After a sharp inhale, he waves me to the door.

Inside, Francesca has her map and the rest of us follow her down a moody hallway lined with antique framed black and white images of the house. There are newspaper clippings, photographs of a wealthy looking Victorian family, and blueprints. The dark hardwood floor leads us to a room with violin music playing.

At the end of the hallway, a door swings open.

I yearn, “That must be the kitchen.”

Adam says, “Maybe they have a bed for me in there.”

“Do you think he has a pastry chef?”

“I don’t know, Vienna.”

I crane my neck to try to see inside the door. “I’ll bet they have a gorgeous kitchen. He probably has every possible baking gadget. Oh! I’ll bet they have a Bakerlux oven. I want one.”

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