Christmas in Wine Country (25 page)

“That came out wrong,” she apologized and rushed on with, “It’s just that you were so nice to Gram. So sweet with all of her suggestions.”

“She had some good ideas.”

“Yeah, and she also suggested that you do a boxed wine because it’s so convenient for having a lot of company.”

Jake chuckled, looking down at the cobblestone. “That might be a hard sell.”

“You said you’d take it under consideration.”

“She reminds me of my Grandma, my mom’s mom.” Jake looked at Lila. In the mid-day sunshine his eyes had flecks of gold. “She was nice to everyone.”

“Does she live in Redwood Cove?”

“One town over. But she passed away about a year and a half ago. That was why I came back.” 

“And you’re still here.” 

“It appears so.” He gave a crooked smile and she wanted to ask more but suddenly felt shy. The romance of the setting, tall pines rustling in the light, warm breeze, almost started to seem too much. She half expected a pair of humming birds to fly over with a spring of mistletoe. “So you’re shocked that I was nice to your Gram?” Jake asked, rubbing his forehead.

“Not shocked,” Lila demurred. “Confused, maybe.”

“Oh, that’s much better,” Jake observed, reaching down to grab a pebble and toss it into the fountain.

“Careful,” Lila warned, “I happen to know that this is the replica of a seventeenth century courtyard in Italy.”

“Ah,” he nodded, recalling their first exchange in almost that exact same spot. Looking down at her he said, “You know you were acting like a lunatic at that party.”

“I was in crisis!”

“And insane.”

“And surrounded by inflatable cacti. Plus the Mexican flag and a plastic donkey pulling a Margarita cart.”

Listening as Lila vented about the
Cin
c
o
de Mayo maternity leave fiasco, Jake agreed, “That’s not good.”

“And I was acting like a lunatic,” Lila acknowledged.

Following a pause during which Lila tried not to think about the softness of his blue chambray shirt and what it would feel like if she slipped her hand up along one of his big, broad shoulders, Jake cleared his throat and asked, “So, do you and your boyfriend do a lot of trail running?”

“My boyfriend?”

“The guy at Ted’s the other night?”

“Right! No! No, that’s not… he’s not…”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s fine, it’s not—” From talking over each other, they both descended again into silence. “So…” Lila nodded, focusing on the water in the fountain which had nothing to do with his long, dark eyelashes. Why did guys always get the great eyelashes, anyway?

“Do you like that trail up along the north coast of town? I’ve seen you on it a couple times.”

“I love it,” Lila brightened at the thought. “The sea lions, the redwood grove. Whenever I’m out on it I seriously can’t believe I get to live here. And can’t believe I spent the last five years running on a treadmill in a gym.”

“I live up near there.”

“Oh, cool,” Lila said. “Maybe I’ll run into you again sometime.”

“Well, I’m about to head out of town again on business —”

“Or not,” Lila quickly interjected. “It’s no big deal.”

“Right.” He paused. They both studied one another’s sneakers.

Realizing she’d possibly blurted out something rude once again, Lila began with, “But—” only to have Jake begin speak at the same time with, “Or—”

Both insisting that the other go first, Lila proved more insistent. Jake continued, “Or we could even make a plan. Maybe meet up some morning—”

“Jake!” A woman’s shriek drew both of their attention toward the grand entrance of the house and the bustle of energy now making its way down the stairs. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” Vanessa swept toward them at the speed of a gale-force wind, cooling things off considerably.

“Vanessa,” Jake said, with neither the enthusiasm nor the volume of a greeting.

“They said you were giving a tour but I knew you couldn’t be since we’re leaving for the show tonight.” Standing by his side, her Gucci boot-clad feet striding the earth
like a Colossus, Vanessa perched her Dior shades up on her perfect blond highlights. She pierced through Lila with her laser eyes. “You’re Lila,” she announced accusatorily.

“Hello,” Lila offered softly, suddenly wanting to go join Gram in talking to that nice woman in the tasting room.

“The flight isn’t until 6pm,” Jake said in a low voice, familiar scowl firmly back in place. “And I’m all packed.”

“Well your father needs to talk to you,” Vanessa scolded. “I think you know what about.”

Awash in embarrassment over clearly being in the midst of a lovers’ quarrel, Lila clutched her straw bag to her side and declared, “OK, then. I’d better go see what’s keeping Gram.” With the briefest of glances toward Jake she added, “Thanks for a lovely day.” She was already marching at a brisk pace toward the tasting room when he called out to her to wait.

“Your dad’s in his study,” Vanessa continued. Lila could almost hear her toe tapping with impatience.

“Thanks for coming.” He called after Lila. “I have to go, but thank your Gram for me.”

Lila waved and kept walking. Jake’s next comments were addressed to Vanessa in a hushed and what sounded like an angry tone. Lila propelled herself forward, wishing the scene had even more distance behind her. Could they seem more like a
bickering married couple? Squabbling about the time their flight left for the airport and going off to talk to Daddy together?

Ashamed at the ease with which she fell for a pair of gold-flecked eyes and some chivalry toward her Gram, Lila told herself to shake it off and feel grateful for what the day had been: a sunny private tour of a gorgeous winery. Nothing to complain about there. So it hadn’t ended in a sunset kiss with a bluebird delivering a wedding ring; nothing to cry about. Ignoring her stomach in a sudden knot and the embarrassed flush on her cheeks, Lila decided to duck into the restroom first and then find Gram; that way the happy couple would be sure to have enough time to head inside before she and Gram made their way to the car.

CHAPTER 9: You Spin Me Right Round, Baby

             
It was 7:30 at night and Lila was just getting out of yoga class. Fuzzy boots pulled on and a faded rose hoodie sweatshirt zipped up, she slung her yoga mat, nicely rolled up into a black canvas bag, over her shoulder and headed out of the studio. The fog had rolled in during class and the windows in their room afforded a front-view seat. Standing in tree pose or Warrior two and watching the fog stretch its fingers across the rocky shore, Lila almost couldn’t believe it was real. The sun had set during their class in deep shades one couldn’t call just red or pink. They required more romantic terms like burnt sienna or crimson. She now caught the last drops of twilight as she began her three-block walk back to her apartment.

             
Make that four blocks, she decided, heading toward Main street. She wanted to pass by the storefront next to the bookstore—still vacant but not for too much longer. After what had struck Lila as about three years of deliberation, Marion had finally announced that she was ready to take the plunge. Once she’d made up her mind, everything marched along accordingly and they’d made an offer within the week. The owner had countered but they’d held firm and, happily, prevailed. They were now well into the contingency phase with only about 9 days to go and Lila and Annie were hopping with excitement.

             
Shamelessly wrapping her cashmere scarf around her neck, Lila warded off the chill like a true California girl, bundled up the moment the temperature dropped even a fraction below 60 degrees. Plus, once it hit September her internal East Coast seasonal clock made her want to reach for the corduroys, flannel and wool. Previous years of
experience had rationally taught her otherwise—September in the Bay Area brought some of the warmest, sunniest days of the year. Godfrey had even tried to explain it to her, saying something about a long warming process reaching its zenith. She’d come away from the conversation not with newfound understanding of weather patterns but with a renewed appreciation for Godfrey’s ability to work words like zenith into regular use.

             
Looking in at the vacant store, Lila saw her reflection in the glass, two bumps from where she’d tied up her hair for yoga pushed up under her hood. Laughing as she realized she looked like a Martian, she drew closer to the glass, cupping her hands around her eyes to peer inside. Everything was as it always had been. Dusty tile floor, abandoned countertop from the defunct deli. They were lucky that the store was already set up for food retail, with a kitchen and freezer storage in back and a seating area out front. Lila could already picture the arm chairs along the wall, the shelves with used books for sale and browsing, the handmade mugs steaming with coffee. 

             
Bidding her soon-to-be café good-bye but not farewell, Lila picked up her walking pace once again and, on impulse, decided to head down to the end of town to the picnic bench she’d shared with her Gram. It was too beautiful a night to head straight home. Passing only one other person along her path, Lila could hear the clanging of buoys and felt the sea air misting her cheeks. In the darkness, it was so much like the Cape Cod of her childhood she almost swore she was home. Now if she could only master that whole time/space continuum thing, Gram could suddenly be seated right by her side.

             
That Sunday during their weekly call, after an appropriately long spate of conversation so as not to seem pushy, Gram had asked, “And what’s new with our friend, Jake?” She’d sounded so sure that they’d been in touch, as if Jake had advanced directly to go, collected his $200 and instantaneously become an old family friend. Lila had almost hated to tell her that she had no idea. She hadn’t heard a word from him in what was rapidly approaching a month since the vineyard tour.

             
She couldn’t deny that she’d been thinking about him, wondering what he was up to, remembering things he’d said about which she wanted to know more. But what made her thrilled—and honestly a bit shocked—was how calm she felt about it all. Sanguine. In the past, a day like that vineyard visit would have sent her off and spinning like a top. No matter what mixed signals, what girlfriends stood in the way, that guy would have become the front-and-center fixture of her consciousness. She would have devoted hours to analyzing every last snippet of conversation. Devised schemes to engineer casual encounters. Plunged into a Draconian salad-only diet and spent hours online mining websites for that perfect outfit, the one that would cue the romantic movie post-makeover montage in his heart.

             
Instead, here she was, feeling the pull but not the ache. He’d been nice that day at the vineyard, great with Gram. No doubt he was super hunky and intriguing.

Equally obvious was the complete radio silence of the past few weeks; Jake wasn’t exactly pursuing her. And last but maybe most important, there was his girlfriend, the vicious viper. Vanessa, Lila mentally added, realizing she’s just cooked up quite the
alliteration. The latter factors of absence and attachment at least balanced if not cancelled out the former positives. 

As for Lila, she had storytime to plan. Tomorrow she was featuring trucks, including the classic
My Truck is Stuck
. Mr. Meows had a lot to say about roadside assistance. Plus there was the small matter of a café to start running in just over a week. Smiling into the darkness, Lila said softly, “This is what it means to be happy.”

And crazy, talking to herself, she recognized that, but maybe it was the yoga, or the muted fog horn, or the cashmere scarf, but she felt so light and optimistic and calm. Or maybe it was a Zen moment? she wondered. If it were, would she be conscious of it or would she simply be In The Moment? Could you think “this is so Zen” and be Zen simultaneously? She’d gotten the worst grade of her college career in what was supposed to be a blow-off seminar called the Tao of Pooh so she knew she was no expert on Buddhist enlightenment. She supposed she was too attached to things and stuff. Like her new pink and green striped flannel pajama bottoms, for example.

But there was no denying this one moment of feeling full and grateful and strangely free. With one more smile to herself and the ocean, she began heading home to pull on those flannel pajamas. 

*
             
*
             
*

Definitely blue, Lila thought as she ran along the coastline, ocean crashing to her left. Joyce, Marion’s partner and master potter, had stopped by the bookstore yesterday to talk glazes. They needed to plan the interior décor so everything would be coordinated. Lila was voting for blue. Maybe different shades of blue? The mugs could
be a dark, dusky blue of the sea at twilight. Plates the brilliant azure of the summer sunshine. Bowls the deep gray blue of the water today in the mid-morning October fog.

A huge creature suddenly leapt at her out of the mist. Lila screamed and tried to jump to the side. Her ankle twinged as her foot dug in off the trail at an awkward angle. She tumbled onto her hip, still managing to grab a stick to fend off what might be a coyote, a mountain lion or even a bear.