Page 62 of Sweet Escape

“But you always assume things, Dad. You never take the time to ask the questions that will get the real answers.” I push out of my chair and walk to the window, looking outside at the vines that stretch into the distance. “Of course I want to be part of this vineyard’s future. I’ve been working toward that my entire life. Obviously, I knew things were moving in that direction. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready.”

“You’re ready, Memphis.”

“I’m not!” I spin around, my hands on my hips as my frustration boils over. “I’m not ready for it to all be on my shoulders when I’m buckling beneath the weight as it is. And the fact you can’t manage to fucking sit down with me and talk about anything is infuriating. I don’t want you to dump everything at my feet.”

“Well, sometimes that’s how it happens, Memphis,” my dad says, standing suddenly, his voice raising as well. “Not everything gets to be a picture-perfect ceremonial passing of the torch, and sometimes, you just have to handle the shit that’s shoveled your way. You think it was easy forme? To step into that role whenmydad died? At least I’m still here to talk to you about things if you need me. I hadnobody.”

“Bullshit I have you to talk to,” I shout back. “Any time I try to bring anything your way, you look like you want to sprint from the room. And sometimes you do. Trust me when I say that I’m just as alone in this as you were. And it’s that much more horrifying because you areright there, and you could help if you wanted to. But you don’t. Because you don’t care. You don’t give a flying fuck about this vineyard, and you never have.”

“You have no idea what things were like for me. What they’vebeenlike for me. Or the kinds of sacrifices I’ve had to make. So until you can say you’ve given up everything in your life for this place, keep your goddamn opinions to yourself.”

He turns and nearly runs into Micah, who is standing wide-eyed at the threshold.

My brother and I stand there, silent, while our father storms down the hall. A slam of the front door echoes through the house.

“What was that?” Micah asks, glancing back over his shoulder in the direction Dad went. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like that in my entire life.”

I sigh, dropping back into my chair and resting my face in my hands.

That was Dad, finally having a fucking breakdown.

But I don’t say that.

“He’ll be fine,” I say, running my fingers through my hair. “Once he gets over himself,” I add with a grumble.

Micah takes a seat in the spot Dad just vacated, but he doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, which I appreciate.

He’s good like that, knowing when to give people time.

“What can I do for you, Micah?” I ask him eventually, once I’ve finally taken that wild conversation and tucked it safely away to deal with later.

He eyes me warily, but I shake my head.

My brother clears his throat, and then he sits up a little bit straighter in his chair.

“In the past I always brought this stuff up to Dad, but ... now that he’s announced you’re in charge, I figure I should come to you. I’d like to recommend that Naomi get promoted.”

I blink a few times, my confusion likely evident on my face. “What do you mean?”

Micah chuckles. “I’m sure you know what a promotion is, Memphis.”

I grin sheepishly, then sit up in my chair. “I do, but we don’t really have a hierarchy here for the vineyard crew. You know that. So there isn’t really anywhere for Naomi to be promotedto.”

He takes a deep breath. “That’s the other thing I was hoping to talk to you about.”

Leaning forward, he slips a folder onto my desk. I open it and do a quick scan through the materials—an organizational chart, a sheet of position descriptions, and a proposal for salary changes.

My eyes flick back up to his.

“You want to restructure?”

He nods, but he doesn’t say anything else. Just sits quietly while I review everything he’s brought to me.

It’s a completely different organizational model that redistributes a lot of the responsibilities. But it’s clear that Micah has put a lot of work into this.

“All right,” I say, leaning back in my chair and motioning to my brother. “Tell me your thoughts.”

Micah looks surprised for a second, but then he launches into a proposal. One where everyone is given a lot more independence and where individual skills are utilized in a much more intentional way.

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