Page 41 of The Autumn We Fell in Love

Cavorting with my fellow strippers seems like sticking my neck out.

“Sorry, man,” I say, “I’ve got to be up early. Maybe next time?”

Even though I know that I’ll say no next time too, and the time after that until my coworkers write me off.

But it’ll be worth it. Nobody back in Merlot can know about what I’m doing to save my family’s vineyard — and my mother’s life.

See, when I got back from Yale about a year ago, the triumphant graduate and fresh holder of a dual degree in philosophy and business, I’d expect a party to celebrate my achievement. I’m the first in my family to go to an Ivy League school, and I know my folks are damned proud of that.

But instead, I came back to a failing business and my mother’s failing health.

Cancer. Not fatal — at least not right away — but not good either. And it turns out that her insurance wouldn’t cover the majority of her treatments.

They needed money, my mom and dad. So they’d kept trucking along with the vineyard as best they could. But with half their core team struggling with cancer and the other half struggling to care for her, the business soon faltered.

I returned from my studies to a disaster — grapes not getting harvested, wines never being marketed, and hospital bills.

The only thing that could fix it all was money.

Fast money.

For as amazing as my education was, a degree in philosophy doesn’t get a man far financially.

But Fine As Wine promised fast cash, same day.

I’d applied as soon as I saw the advert on the community job board, then immediately started binge-watching dance technique videos on the internet. By the time my audition came around, I was ready. And thanks to years on the soccer and rugby fields, so was my body.

The club manager hired me on the spot. I’d started that night and found that the advertisement was right — the job absolutely yielded fast cash with same-day rewards.

Significant rewards.

The money in exotic dancing is damned good.

But the reputation that comes along with this career? Not so good.

It’s worth it, though, to know that my mother has the top medical care Sonoma has to offer and that she won’t have to spend an ounce of energy worrying about bills.

My dad’s feeling the ease in pressure, too, as I’ve been able to invest in contract workers to help with the vineyard’s production, marketing, and books.

They think I landed a spot as an adjunct professor at San Pablo’s college. Nothing could be further from the truth.

But for as good as the money is at Fine As Wine, I need more. I’d take an advance if I could, but of course, that’s not how this business works.

The truth is, my mom already had accrued so much medical debt before I graduated that she’s in danger of being sued for its payment.

She’d been sick for years before I came home.

My parents said they hadn’t wanted to ruin my college experience.

Now I feel nothing but guilt every time I reminisce about my higher ed memories. Because while I was scoring the winning goal on Yale’s soccer field and delivering a high honors dissertation and playing video games with my boys on the weekends, my mom was sick. Really sick.

I’ve got a lot to make up for, financially and otherwise.

“Yeah, sure,” Tonio says, trying to hide his disappointment and failing. “Next time.”

I clap him on the shoulder. “Good luck on your set.”

He offers me a lopsided grin. “Thanks. I’m going to have to work it hard to keep up with you.”

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