Tasting Notes (21 page)

“Thank you so much for coming in early to meet with me,” West said.

“Of course. It’s nice to have you back.”

West smiled, knowing her words were sincere. Helena might be ruthless in business, but she was warm and open at the same time. It was a rare combination, and it had been one of the reasons he hired her in the first place. She made people feel at ease, and in that moment, West was grateful for her kindheartedness.

Once the agent arrived, they went through each client’s files, one by one. Helena gave him the overview on what had happened while he was gone, and when they were finished, West felt both better and worse for having left. It turned out the company wasn’t in as rough shape as he thought. Helena had managed on her own to put out most of the fires Alex started. In the grand scheme of things, Forge West was in great shape, but there were still some things that needed to be taken care of in order to bring the company back to the place it was when he left.

He rolled up his sleeves and prepared to get to work.

THE FIRST
few days without West stung the most. The bed seemed too big, even though Rush took up most of the mattress, and the sheets were cold despite the end-of-summer heat. Rush busied himself with menial tasks around Black Mountain and Lennox Hill. There were more than enough chores to keep him busy indefinitely.

He was on his way to the hardware store when he saw Sebastian crossing the street. They hadn’t seen each other since the Fourth. After that night, Rush had tried calling him a few times, but Sebastian never picked up. Rush felt incredible guilt for letting their friendship fall by the wayside when West came to town. Things had gone on that way long enough. Rush was determined to find out why Sebastian had been acting so strangely.

Seeing him now, Rush decided enough was enough. He crossed the street with purpose, and called out Sebastian’s name, catching him off guard.

“Hey,” Sebastian said with more than a modicum of reluctance.

“Are you busy?”

“I was just going to the bank,” Sebastian replied.

“You can do that later. Let’s grab a beer. We need to talk.”

“I really should—”

“It won’t take long,” Rush insisted.

Sebastian hesitated, but a sigh later he was following Rush toward the Pour House.

They sat across from each other as they had a hundred times before, but the weight of awkwardness was overpowering. Cherie brought them their beers before Sebastian finally broke the silence between them.

“So what’s up?” he asked.

“You’ve been MIA lately, and before that, you were being weird. I want to know what’s going on with you.”

“There’s nothing going on. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. We’ve been friends a long time, Sebastian. Things are… off. I know that’s partly my fault—I haven’t exactly been all that available the last few months. I’m sorry for that.”

Sebastian seemed surprised by Rush’s apology. He lifted his glass and took a sip before setting it back down on the cardboard coaster.

“I got caught up in things with West. But the weirdness predates West and me, so why don’t you tell me what the problem is?”

“There’s no problem. Really. Things have been stressful at work and I’ve just been under a lot of pressure.” The excuse was lame and halfhearted, and Rush knew it.

“At the risk of repeating myself, that’s bullshit. I know you better than that, Sebastian. So we’re not leaving here until you tell me why you’ve been so fucking bristly.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes, and a moment later, Rush witnessed the instant his resolve broke. “It was too hard to be around you.”

“What? Why?”

“I saw how you looked at him. Your eyes got all dark and you looked at him like you never looked at me.”

“That’s because I thought he was a douchebag,” Rush said.

Sebastian tilted his head to the side and shot Rush a dubious look. “Maybe, but that undercurrent of attraction was there. Don’t tell me it wasn’t. You wanted him the moment you saw him.”

“But I don’t see why… oh.” Rush clamped his mouth shut as realization dawned over him. West had been right. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because I knew you didn’t feel the same way as I did. Which is fine. It’s my issue, not yours. It just hurt to see you with someone else. I didn’t want the front row view of your budding relationship, so I checked out. I’m sorry I’ve been so weird about the whole thing.”

“I didn’t know….”

“I know you didn’t. I really am fine. Knowing you were with West was the kick in the ass I needed to start to move on. Gavin and me… we kind of have a thing going. It’s in the early stages yet, but I think things are good.”

“Yeah?” Rush grinned. He was happy for Sebastian. Just because things had never been serious between them didn’t mean he didn’t deserve something special. He hoped Gavin was the right guy for him.

Sebastian blushed. “Yeah. I really like him.”

“I’m happy for you, man. But you tell him if he fucks with you, I’ll break both his legs.”

“I’ll let him know,” Sebastian said with a chuckle.

“So we’re good?”

“We’re good.”

Rush lifted his glass and Sebastian did the same, clinking the rims together. He was happy to have his friend back.

“HOLY SHITBALLS,
is it hot,” Rush muttered to himself, stepping out of the helicopter and onto the tarmac. He anticipated it would be warm—California in August was never cool—but he hadn’t realized the desert would be hotter than hellfire. The heat in San Diego wasn’t nearly as crushing as the desert. He was happy to be there, though. When his teaching contract for San Diego extended to include a week in Twentynine Palms leading a training session on close air support, he agreed immediately. It wasn’t far from Rancho Mirage, where his parents had bought their new home, and he was anxious to see them.

It had been nearly six months since they left Canyon Creek, and he missed them. Spending a few days next to the pool at the end of a three-week-long teaching stint sounded nothing short of amazing. He only needed to get through the next seven days and he’d be sipping margaritas in a lounger with two of his favorite people once again.

The liaison stepped forward and shook Rush’s hand. “I’m Daniel O’Brian. It was me you were speaking to on the phone for the last month. Thank you so much for coming. We appreciate you making the trip over for the training. I’ve put your week’s itinerary into this file for you, but if you have any questions or concerns at all, please don’t hesitate to ask. We’ll do all we can to make sure you are supplied with all the resources you need.”

“Thanks, Daniel,” Rush said, taking the file from him. He looked it over as they walked to the truck. It seemed extensive, but Rush wasn’t bothered. There was little else to do in the area, so keeping busy would stop his mind from wandering in directions it shouldn’t.

They climbed in, and the liaison pulled out onto the road, which took them past the hospital and over to the Marine Corps Air Ground Combat Center to get orientated. It was quite a massive facility, with areas for training and simulation. As far as Rush was concerned, the closer the Marines could get to real situations in training, the better off they’d be when it came time for the real thing.

Every class he taught, the students seemed to be younger and younger. He tried not to think about what was possibly coming next for them. It wasn’t his job to worry about them. It was his job to make sure they were as well trained as possible for their missions, to ensure they were capable of making decisions moment to moment that would guarantee their safety and the safety of the others they fought next to. He wanted them to be able to go through the motions in their sleep, to be so prepared their reactions to threats were smooth and faultless.

By the end of the week, Rush was exhausted but satisfied he’d done as much as possible for the young Marines. It was out of his hands now, and he wished them all luck as the class ended on the last day. They had clocked quite a bit of air time, and Rush was ready for a break.

He checked his cell phone as he walked out to the main parking area, looking for his dad’s silver Ford. Rush spotted it just to the left, and he walked over, a wide grin splitting his face. His dad stepped out of the car and had his arms wrapped around Rush’s shoulders before he could blink.

“Missed you, kiddo,” he said, hugging him tightly.

“I missed you too,” Rush said before pulling back. They loaded Rush’s bag into the trunk, and a few minutes later they were cruising down the highway toward Rancho Mirage. The landscape was beautiful and so different from Canyon Creek. It never ceased to amaze Rush how diverse California was. The coast, the north, the desert, it was as though they were different parts of the world rather than being only a few hours’ drive apart.

They drove through Yucca Valley as his dad recounted everything that had happened in the six months prior to Rush’s visit. Before Rush knew it, they were taking the on-ramp to the I-10. Large groupings of windmills dotted the hills on either side of the freeway, and for a moment Rush wondered what Don Quixote would think of these. They were monstrous, white and sleek. He remembered reading about Don Quixote when he was in school. Most of the story was lost to him, but he remembered the windmills. Somehow he didn’t think these looked anything like the ones from the story.

As they neared Palm Springs, Jim pulled off the highway and, through a series of quick maneuvers, directed them into the drive-thru line for In-N-Out Burger. Rush checked the clock in the car. Four o’clock. It was getting close to dinnertime, and he knew very well that his mom would have made something, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Don’t look at me like that,” his dad said. “Your mother is on a new cooking kick where she’s attempting Italian cuisine, and believe me, she was better off with the classics. Tonight, I believe, we are having some sort of gnocchi with brown butter. But if the smells coming from the kitchen when I left are indicative of what dinner will taste like, you’d better get a burger too.”

Rush laughed. “Okay. You’d know better than me.”

“You’ll be thanking me later, trust me.”

His dad pulled into the long lineup, and after a few minutes, they placed their order. Suddenly he was ravenous, and if what his dad said about his mom’s cooking was to be believed, he was grateful to be getting the greasy predinner meal.

They ate in the car on the drive, which was surprisingly short. Rush loved that all the major street names were taken from old-school Hollywood. When they pulled into the driveway, Rush was impressed by the exterior of the house. It was quite beautiful, done in a very contemporary style. Different from their old house, but it still somehow suited the couple. His dad gathered up the remnants from their illicit meal and snuck them into the trash beside the garage before he guided Rush through the front door.

“Had to destroy the evidence, but now here we are,” he said pushing the door open and gesturing for Rush to enter.

“Is that my boy?” Rush heard his mom call from somewhere in the house. Her voice sounded amplified against the smooth marble of the floors. The interior of the house was huge, the open concept design making it appear even larger. The kitchen was to the right and boasted a large marble island in the center. His mom was standing behind it, an apron tied neatly around her waist and an array of different vegetables and various kitchen utensils spread before her.

The moment Rush stepped into the house, he understood his dad’s motivation for fast food. The acrid scent of burned garlic permeated the air, and Rush did his best not to let it show as he walked in and wrapped his arms around his mom, enveloping her in a hug.

“Hey, Mom,” he said, suddenly more grateful than ever that he was there. “It’s great to see you.”

“You too, Robert. You should have visited before now. I heard that boyfriend of yours bought you a helicopter. That means you have even fewer excuses for why you didn’t visit.”

Rush flinched internally at the mention of West. Of course his parents would have heard about the chopper. Something like that isn’t small news in a place like Canyon Creek, and they were still very well connected to the community, despite the fact they had transplanted themselves to southern California.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll do better from now on.”

“You’d better. Now, what can I get you to drink? Beer? Wine? Tequila?”

Rush chuckled. “Maybe I’ll save the tequila for a bit later. Beer’s good if you’ve got it.”

“Of course,” she said, walking over to the beverage fridge at the end of the island. It was half-height but had double doors, and Rush could see through the glass it was well stocked. Retirement seemed to suit his parents well. The house was gorgeous, and they both seemed incredibly happy.

His mom handed him a bottle of beer. “Why don’t you two go outside and sit by the pool. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

“It smells incredible,” Rush said, taking the bottle from her. His dad smiled conspiratorially and tilted his head toward the french doors that led to the backyard.

Rush followed him outside and took a moment—as his feet hit the stone of the pool deck—to take it all in. If he thought the house was gorgeous, the backyard was something else. For a desert, it was incredibly lush. There was a small grove of citrus trees to one side—lemons, oranges, and grapefruits hung heavy on the branches. The pool took up most of the rest of the yard, with a handful of palm trees springing from the ground along the back wall. One side of the pool was built up with rocks, and water cascaded over them, creating a soundtrack Rush could have happily spent all week listening to. To the right there was a large tented area, beneath which was the table and six chairs, and immediately adjacent to the dining area was the BBQ, built into the outdoor kitchen.

“Holy shit,” Rush said.

“Something else, isn’t it?” his dad said proudly. “The yard is the reason we bought this place.”

“I can see why. You guys shouldn’t have let me come. You’re never going to get rid of me now. I’ll be the adult son who still lives at home.”