Page 19 of Always Yours

He continues, “I obviously know you stay at Will’s apartment while you’re at school. I was your age once. But, when you’re here, I would like you to respect our rules, andwhile they may be unspoken, sleeping with Will under our roof,” he says, his hand flitting between my parents’ house and the guest cottage, “is off limits.”

I nod my head in agreement, because I know this is something my dad will stand firm on. I get it. He wants to set an example for Lauren, he wants me to be safe, he doesn’t want me pregnant. The list is pretty endless, honestly.

“I want you in your bed before midnight,” he states firmly and I chuckle a little, but quell it quickly. I had no idea it would be this awkward when I returned from school. Somehow living as an adult and then returning to what it was like when I lived here as a kid.

“I can do that,” I tell him and I can. There’s no reason why for a few days I can’t go without sleeping with Will.

“We like Will, El,” my dad says, now smiling at me. “Don’t make me not like him.”

“I like him too,” I admit, feeling my cheeks grow warm at my confession. I wouldn’t have even considered bringing him home to meet my family if I didn’t. I even think I’m falling in love with him, but like hell if I’m going to tell my dad that.

“I just want you to keep one thing in mind,” my dad starts and I have no idea where he’s heading with this. “Will is from Rhode Island and you’re from California. Your life is here at the vineyard, but it doesn’t have to be.”

“I want it to be,” I say, my words firm. I chose to go to school in Michigan because that’s where my dad is from. We have family there, he went to school there, my mom went to school there, they met there; there’s history there. But I guess I never really gave much thought to the fact that Will might want to return to Rhode Island when he graduates.

My life is here at the vineyard. This will be my career, and while I’ve told Will this, I didn’t even think about how that would affect him. We haven’t even talked about the future;both of us living in the present and so consumed with the newness of our relationship.

“You need to discuss this with Will,” my dad presses and again I nod my head. This conversation has led somewhere I didn’t expect it to. I was gearing up for a lecture on being responsible and not sleeping around and it’s now suddenly making me take a serious look at my future—my future with Will.

“The vineyard will always be here, whether you decide to work here or not. The same goes for your sister. We, your mom and I, want you both to make your own decisions and sometimes those decisions come with complications.”

The complication he’s talking about is Will, someone I never thought would be a complication.

“But you work here. You’ve always worked here,” I say, reminding my dad that this is where I was born, this is where he’s worked long before I even came into the picture.

“Your mom came with the vineyard,” my dad says, smiling and I know he’s thinking about something that happened long ago. “She made it clear that if I wanted to be with her, that the vineyard and living in California were part of the package.”

“And you just up and left your family because Mom told you to?”

“Not exactly,” my dad says, this time laughing a little at the boldness of my question. “Your mom told me the day we started dating that she was going back to her family’s vineyard when she graduated. She actually never asked me if I wanted to join her.”

“So you followed her? Like a stalker?”

“No, El,” my dad responds, rolling his eyes. “We’d been dating for three years at that point and I knew I wanted to marry your mom, but the distance was an issue. I got a job in Michigan when I graduated and we did the long-distance thing for about a year, and it was hard as hell. I knew one of uswould have to sacrifice something, and with me not really loving my job and not really tied to anything specific in Michigan, I found a job in San Francisco.”

“You haven’t always worked at the vineyard?” I ask, shocked by this turn of events. I’ve never really had a conversation with my parents like this. I guess it’s part of growing up. You become an adult and suddenly you have adult conversations with them, and you learn things about them that you never knew.

“Nope. This is your mom’s legacy, and it’s the same reason why you and your sister’s last name is Somerville. We agreed to give our children her last name because of the vineyard. We both wanted to continue her family name. I never wanted to make it look like I was trying to slide in here for an easy job and I still don’t.”

“When did you start working here?”

“I spent about two years living in San Fran and your mom and I would make the long drive to see each other, and while it was better than the Michigan/Cali commute, it was still long. Eventually I proposed and we got married and that’s when I started working here. It wasn’t like I hadn’t worked at the vineyard though. I’d spend weekends helping out and learning things from your grandpa, but until we were married, your mom ran this whole place.”

“I had no idea,” I tell my dad, loving the story of how he ended up here.

“Just keep that all in mind as you make decisions about your relationship with Will. Someone will have to give something up. I have never once regretted leaving Michigan and that’s why this all works.”

“I will,” I say contemplatively. He’s given me a lot to think about.

“Now get your ass in the house before your mom wakes up and I have to explain to her why I didn’t ground you for sneaking over to the cottage.”

“I’m eighteen years old, Dad.”

“I know you are, Ellen, but that never matters. You’ll be forty and I’ll still think of you as my kid.”

Several hours later the vineyard is bustling with tourists and workers as Will, Lauren and I stroll around the property. There isn’t a ton of stuff to do, but Lauren and I find ourselves taking Will to some of the places we missed yesterday.

We’re currently maneuvering our way through the barrel room as Will takes it all in. It is quite a sight with all the oak barrels piled together on pallets, and stacked on top of each other.

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