Page 18 of Red Mountain Burning
9
Carmen’s First Day
Brooks held an arm out the truck window as he turned onto Sunset. It was still dark out, an hour away from sunrise, and a heavy fog had set in sometime during the night. He could make out a pair of taillights a good distance ahead of him, another early bird eager to get to work. This time of year, the vineyard workers came in early so they could finish their work before the afternoon sun cooked their skin.
As he passed Kiona, the first winery founded on the mountain, he caught a flash of silver twinkling in the fog, racing down a vineyard row parallel to the road. It had to be a coyote. He tapped the brakes to get a better look. It was very rare to see a song dog—as many called them on the mountain—and Otis had taught Brooks to always take a moment to appreciate the luck of an encounter. He scanned the area but gave up after a while.
Giving the truck some gas, he moved on again, reviewing what needed to happen today, including the work orders he needed to put in. His cellar rats often ran around aimlessly until Brooks gave them their list of chores. It was part of being the boss. No big deal.
As he remembered that his glass supplier was taking him to lunch today, the flash of silver appeared again, this time darting across the road. With a curse, Brooks slammed on the brakes—
but it was too late. Screeching, the truck kicked sideways a few degrees and slid into the coyote, sending it tumbling across the pavement and into the ditch.
Heartbroken, Brooks watched for movement, trying not to think of the bad luck that came with hitting a coyote. The morning took on an eerie silence, and the fog seemed to instantly thicken. He put his fingertips on the car door handle, tempted to get a closer look. But coyotes could sometimes be dangerous, especially if they were wounded.
After a few more moments in the quiet, the coyote limped out of the ditch, situating itself on the shoulder of the road. A long stare-down ensued, so long that Brooks leaned his head out, wanting a better view—a deeper connection.
Very often, coyotes were skittish, quick to dash away at the sight of humans. This one was different and showed no apprehension at all. Judging by his stance and cutting, lava-red eyes, he looked more curious and confident than afraid. Reminding Brooks of Adriana, an old scar ran from the side of the coyote’s eye to his ear. For a moment, Brooks forgot that he’d hit the dog, and he found himself both shocked and relieved that it at least appeared to be okay.
Brooks could see Otis in those eyes, the wisdom and anguish, and also a sense of being bound to a place. He suddenly felt like an intruder, like Custer invading Native American land. Brooks thought about something he’d heard one time, how the souls of dogs came back as humans. As Brooks peered into the eyes of this being, it was as if he had been a human many times before returning as a song dog.
“Who are you?” he asked, his voice breaking the quiet of the night.
The coyote twisted its head and lifted up its snout curiously.
“Where have I seen you before?”
Brooks felt less threatened now and cracked open his door. He wasn’t exactly sure what he planned on doing, but he felt a calling to move closer.
The coyote whipped around and ran off into the vines, a flash of silver disappearing into the darkness and fog.
Brooks was touched deeply by the experience and wondered what it meant as he searched the darkness of the desert with his eyes.
* * *
The coyote sightingdistracted Brooks throughout the early morning, and he barely gave a thought to Carmen and her first day until she followed Jake into his office about nine.
Brooks was on the phone trying to find a piece to fix the bottling line. “Let me call you back,” he told the guy, hanging up before the other man could respond. Brooks set his cell phone down on the table and waved the power couple in.
With a body that had made her millions, Carmen was five-ten, pencil-thin, and busty. She wore hiking shoes and fancy jeans with fashionable holes above the knees. The slightest bit of cleavage peeked out from her rolled-sleeve, button-down shirt. Her shiny brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
Brooks imaginedWine Enthusiastwould love to put her on the next cover.To the casual eye, she was jarringly beautiful, which reminded Brooks of how much trouble she’d caused in his own life, taking Abby from him, destroying their engagement. Having known her for a long time, Brooks didn’t look at her the way most people did, like a supermodel prancing about, a delight for the senses. He saw a damaged woman whose insecurities often showed themselves in the meanest of ways. To Brooks, she was the kind of person he preferred to avoid.
And yet, she was like family to him, so he tried not to embrace the revulsion he sometimes felt for her. Not only was she Jake’s wife and Emilia’s and Luca’s mother—reason enough to give her the benefit of the doubt—but she also surprised him with a warm heart when he least expected it. She was a punch in the face and a hug around the neck at the same time. Or a poisonous concoction mixed with a dose from the fountain of youth in one tempting tumbler.
Carmen had changed a lot since getting sober, for better and worse. Brooks had seen a part of her that he really liked, a positivity and realness that had been missing for a long time. But she’d also brought new life to her already-existent, holier-than-thou attitude, and she seemed more comfortable than ever on her pulpit. Brooks didn’t like to be preached to, but he had worked hard to give her the credit she was due for getting sober and trying to become a better person.
Having decided he would do his best to be nice to her, Brooks said, “Welcome to the team.” He wanted to grin as he heard the words come to his mouth. Looking at this gazelle-like woman with her fiendish brown eyes, he knew her presence was the end of the one stable piece of Brooks’s life—Lacoda.
Carmen shrugged her bony shoulders, then glanced at Jake, who was only barely taller. “Thanks,” she said. “I’m excited to be here. Almost nervous, actually. I haven’t started a new job in a long time.”
Brooks brushed his hand through the air. “Oh, don’t be nervous. We both know you’ve always pulled the strings around here.”
“That’s about right,” Jake said, crossing his arms.
Carmen shook her head at the men.
The following few seconds felt like Brooks was falling down a cavern with no ropes and nothing else to grab onto. The three of them knew each other so well—the goodandthe bad—that words weren’t always necessary, and they shared an unspoken conversation that dripped with jarring emotions.
