Page 60 of Blush
“We have enough going on without you muddying the waters.”
“Muddying the... Leonard, I’m just about losing my patience,” she said, turning to him. “Leah is here to be supportive. Maybe you could let her try to help.”
Leonard sighed, reaching for her hand. “I wish it were that simple. But losing that offer... it’s a bad sign. I’m worried, Vivian.”
In all of their ups and downs, Leonard had never uttered those words to her. Leonard prided himself in being a fixer, in having the answers. She felt a shiver of fear.
“Have you considered reaching out to another winemaker? Maybe partner with someone else around here?”
Leonard pulled his hand away. “You can’t be serious.”
It had been years, so many years, since either of them had so much as acknowledged the disastrous partnership with the baron. And she was the only one who knew the abrupt end of it had been her fault.
In the weeks and months following their encounter in the stable, the baron continued to contact her. First it was phone calls to the winery office; he’d ask for Leonard, and if Leonard wasn’t available, he’d ask for her.
“I understand your hesitation at your own home,” he said. “But I’ll meet you anywhere in the world. Fly you anywhere in the world.”
She told him no, begged him to never speak of it again. Then theletters began arriving, sometimes two a week. Vivian existed in a state of panic that Leonard would somehow get to the mail before she did. She intercepted the letters, finding creative ways to dispose of them or hide them so they weren’t discovered in the trash even by one of the household staff.
One day, the letters stopped. And the baron pulled out of his partnership with Hollander Estates.
Thirty-one
The sea grass, tall around the perimeter of the veranda, was loud with the clicking and humming of nocturnal insects. Above, the moon was electrically bright and nearly full. The air smelled damp and of the soil. Leah inhaled deeply, looking out at the vineyard.
The idea of reaching out to book clubs was taking shape. She would start by using her own mailing list from the cheese shop. She could ask Bridget to help promote it on social media. Wine and cheese, wine and books... some things just went together. It was a no-brainer.
She noticed movement across the grass and the glow of a phone.
“Sadie?” Where was her daughter going at that hour? She stopped walking, and Leah waved her over.
“Hey,” Sadie said.
“What’s up?”
“Just... going for a drive.”
Leah’s maternal antennae went up. “Everything okay?”
“Yes—all good,” Sadie said, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek. “See you in the morning.”
Leah’s phone rang—Steven.
“It’s your father,” Leah said. But Sadie was already walking away. “Hey,” she said into the phone.
“Hey,” he said. “A customer has a special order and I think it’s from that farm that doesn’t have email?”
Okay. All business.
“I can take care of it tomorrow. Just text me what she wants. How’s it going otherwise?”
“Fine. How about you?”
“Oh, the drama continues. Did you get my text earlier? The buyer backed out. I think my mother sees it as a reprieve. But in reality, the longer this stretches out—”
“Leah, it’s going to be a long haul. I know you have good intentions, but you can’t see this through to the end. Come home. I miss you.”
She looked up at the quarter moon, thinking that he was under the same moon. They weren’t that far apart. A firefly alighted in the distance. Could she leave, knowing she could maybe do something to help? She was torn. All she knew was that she wanted both—to stay at the winery and to make Steven happy. But she couldn’t have both. She couldn’t have it all. Life, especially midlife, was all about understanding that.
