Page 11 of Love Unforgettable
Chapter 4
Lexie
After a sleepless night spent thinking about Trevor, I take one of my huskies, Sasha, with me and hike the grounds checking my grapevines for the bulk of the morning. I wish I could say that it’s not hard to be a woman in the wine industry, an industry that is primarily male dominated, but I can’t. And even though the number of woman wine makers in the state is growing all the time, it still doesn’t top 12% of the industry as a whole.
When you pair that with the fact that I am short and petite, usually dressed in jeans and sneakers, and wear my hair in pig tails when I am working, I’m often treated like a small child. Even though I am rocking pink hair in those pig tails.
I won’t deny that I got into this business young, first as a child just goofing around with grapes, and later as an adult taking it seriously. It was due to the generosity of my late mentor and benefactor, Stone Strassburg. For some reason he saw something in me that he wanted to cultivate, and so he did. He took me under his wing, teaching me everything he knew about growing grapes and making wine that I couldn’t learn in school. When he was ready to retire, which was just as I was completing my MS in Viticulture and Oenology, he turned the entire operation over to me.
My phone buzzes with a new text. I look down and see it’s from Mavis Strassburg, Stone’s widow, the two were my surrogate grandparents. Mavis and I grew close when I was Stone’s protege. Sadly, he passed a year into his retirement. Mavis has no other family left, and outside of Kat and Remi, neither do I. So, we cling to each other, emotionally and sometimes literally. She was instrumental in helping me piece myself back together after my family died. So, I made sure to do the same for her after Stone passed. I now make it a point to see her at least once a week and try to talk to her every day or so.
Mavis: Hello Lexiebubalacan you hear me hello
I have to laugh. I finally convinced Mavis to get a smart phone and she likes using the voice to text functionality. But she still doesn’t always understand that it’s not a call. And sometimes I like to mess with her when that happens. So, I text back.
Me: Good morning,bubbe. I can’t hear you. Can you hear me?
Mavis: Nobubalano my hearing is not what it wasoy vey
I hit the button to call her.
“Oh, mybubala, is that you? I can hear you now.Danke,” Mavis says. I laugh.
“Hibubbe,” I say. “How are you doing today?”
“Ohbubala, the news today, suchdreck.Feh! I tell you.”
“I know. The world is a sad state of affairs,” I agree.
It wouldn’t matter what was happening in the world, Mavis would still say the news was horrible and everything was going toshite. She lives to complain.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Oh yes.Es geyt gut.I am well.Danke, bubala. Thank you.”
“How are Clyde and Stella?” I ask, of her two dogs.
“Oy, such rascals those two. But myoytzer, no? Such sweethearts. My onlybeybizsince you give me nothing.”
I laugh. “Bubbe, I have toshtupto give youbeybiz. And that’s not happening right now.”
Mavis laughs, but it quickly turns to a hacking cough, which concerns me. She won’t let me take her to see a doctor. She hates both them and hospitals, mostly because Stone died in a hospital and she doesn’t think the doctors did enough before that to keep him well. So, if I want to take her anywhere to get checked out, I have to trick her. Maybe she’ll agree to let Brad take a look at her under the guise of something else.
“My winemaven. Karyere meydl.Career girl,” she says when she catches her breath. “Oy. So busy you are. Always with the work.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” I say. “Guess who’s moving back to town?”
“Jerry Stiller.”
“No,” I say with a giggle. Mavis has had a crush on the actor since she was a girl. She’s convinced herself he’s from San Soloman and moving back at any time. “Trevor.”
“Trevor? Trevor? Theputzfrom college? Who again came back then left with no words? Oh no,bubala.Oy vey. You hurt me. Say it isn’t so.Oy yoy yoy.”
“I thought you liked him,” I ask as I bend to inspect a vine up close.
“Feh, bubala.No.Oy,no.”
Something has been chewing on the grape clusters. I pluck a particularly sparse one from the vine and hold it up to the light. Definite chew marks. But too high on the vine to be a typical rabbit, raccoon, or squirrel issue. And the base of the stalk is undisturbed.
