Page 81 of Before We Say Goodbye
Otis picks up the pen, and I look forward to seeing where he goes from here, jumping into those happier times. Before ink meets the page, the front doorbell rings.
It’s Brooks. A lightness comes over me. There aren’t many better men in the world than him, and I know that he’s doing everything to bring Otis back. As hardheaded as Otis can be, it certainly takes a village.
At the sound of the bell, Otis whipped his head around. He was in no shape to see anyone. By God, he hadn’t looked in the mirror in days, but he could imagine what he’d encounter. Nevertheless, he scooped up Amigo and put him in his crate, then headed to the door.
Brooks stood there. Tattoos from his years as a runaway troublemaker branded his body. He once had a sadness in his eyes, a lost sense about him, but in the five years since he’d been working with Otis, a glimmer of hope and even excitement had started to sparkle. Otis considered the young man a third son; Brooks looked up to him as a father figure.
“You’re not answering my calls,” Brooks said.
“Yeah, my phone’s probably not charged.” His voice came out in an ugly croak.
“How’s Amigo?”
Otis turned back to the inside of his house. “He’s coming back to life. Gaining weight. Cast comes off in three weeks.”
“Then?”
Otis cleared his throat, tasting stale tobacco. “I guess I walk him up the mountain and see what happens. I hear his family out there, calling for him. Hopefully he’ll make it.” Amigo had been a steady companion, and the idea of not having him in the house was unsettling.
“He’s doing better than you, then,” Brooks said. It wasn’t a question.
Otis gave a weak laugh. “He’s far more on the mend.”
Brooks looked at him so long that Otis had to turn away. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Are you kidding? Look at you, Otis. Everyone’s worried about you.”
“No need to be. A man can grieve, can’t he?”
“Of course, but you need more sunlight. A shower. You need to let people visit with you. The whole mountain is worried. You’re the leader.”
Otis laughed. “If this mountain is counting on me right now, I don’t know what to say. You’re all in trouble. My time has passed.”
Concern rang in Brooks’s tone. “Would you let me say something like that? Do I need to remind you how you found me, the shape I was in? Now it’s my turn. I understand a man must grieve, but there comes a time when you have to put one foot in front of the other. Let’s start with the wines. You haven’t even asked about them.”
“I haven’t agreed to forge ahead.”
“I won’t allow too many more days to go by. I’ll drag you out of here kicking and screaming if I have to.”
Otis mustered the courage to find Brooks’s eyes for a moment. “I don’t want to know about the wines. I ...” His heart slowed to a drip.
“It was your last vintage with her. You have to care.”
Otis tightened. “Do not tell me what I have to do.”
“Oh, I know I can’t do that, but you’ll one day regret it if these wines don’t sing. You’re going to want to remember what you and Bec did your last year together.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
Brooks’s silence won the argument.
“What’s it been, five years with me? You know as much as I do about wine.”
“Hardly.” Brooks took in a breath. “I need your help. The syrah, the cab. Even the merlot, they’re not coming to life. There’s a dullness to them. It’s almost like they know what’s going on ... like they’re waiting on you too.”
Otis chuckled.It’s going to be a long wait,he thought.
“I know it’s only been a couple of months, but you can’t keep hiding. We have work to do.”
