A Wedding on Ladybug Farm (21 page)

It was almost dark by the time Kevin and Lori finished everything on their mothers’ lists, along with the additional chores barked out by Ida Mae, who didn’t blink an eye at seeing them both back at home but took full advantage of the extra labor.  “It won’t be the first time I nursed a sick man back to health in this house and it won’t be the last,” she said, “but I won’t be doin’ it flying up and down them stairs.  So you all can get that bed set up in the sunroom like we had it when you was laid up with your leg, Little Missy, and scoot up in the attic and bring down that folding table and chairs so’s I can serve them their meals in there proper like.  I reckon she’ll be wanting to move in there with him, now that she’s up and married him, so no point in making things hard on myself.”

Kevin said gently, “Miss Ida Mae, maybe it would be better to wait and see if …”  He glanced uneasily at Lori.  “What I mean is, there’s a chance that …”

Ida Mae just glared at him.  “Waitin’ and seein’ just lets the devil in the door, mister.  Now you do as I say and you do it quick so I can get back to my kitchen.  I’ve got a pie in the oven.”

So they moved furniture.  They fed the chickens and the goat and the dog and the cat.  They made phone calls.  After a certain amount of confusion, they even folded up the drop cloths, put away the painting supplies, and returned the furniture that was stacked in the hall back into the big empty room that once had been a combination of Lori’s room and the guest room.  Kevin put his suitcase in Noah’s room across the hall.  Lori put hers in the blue room. And they smiled regretfully at one another as they did so.

Kevin showered and changed, mostly to try to wake himself up, and went looking for Lori.  He noticed the light that was shining through the window of the winery office, but when he crossed the lawn and entered the office, it was empty. 

He glanced around the space—the dark computer screen, the piles of papers scattered across the desk, manila folders filled with receipts on a low shelf, an old-fashioned card-file rolodex with a few cards turned forward, as though someone had just finished making a call.  It was cold inside the room, made even colder by the harsh fluorescent light, and a little creepy.  He called, “Lori?”

When he had visited the winery before, Dominic explained that the original entrance to the cellar had been via a trapdoor in the floor, which the ladies had intended to remove in favor of a more traditional staircase.  That had proven too expensive, however, so they had simply put up a half wall and a gate around the pit in the middle of the floor, and left the stone staircase intact.  Kevin went through the gate and down the stairs.  The fluorescents were on in the cellar, too, and Lori was checking a gauge on a piece of some kind of equipment.  She glanced up distractedly when she saw him.

“Hey,” she said.  “Did you get hold of the Red Cross?”

“Yeah.  They promised to get a message to the unit commander within twenty-four hours.”

“It just seems strange to me that the whole unit would move without telling anybody.”

“It’s wartime.  That’s what a communications blackout is for.”

She looked up from making a note on a clipboard, her expression worried.  “That means they’re fighting, doesn’t it?”

“Not according to Red Cross,” Kevin assured her. “The military is very careful about revealing troop movements, even if they’re just moving to a new duty post.”

Lori’s lips compressed briefly.  “Still … maybe we’ll just tell Aunt Lindsay Noah’s not allowed to call out for a few days.”

Kevin nodded.  “That’s what I thought.” 

There was a small bitter twist to her lips.  “We’re getting to be experts at lying, aren’t we?  Good thing we’re here to do the dirty work.” 

And then, before he could respond, she said, “Good news from the hospital though.  Mom said everything went well with the procedure and that she and Aunt Bridget are on their way home.  They couldn’t talk Aunt Lindsay into leaving though, even for just a few hours.  I guess she’s too scared.”

Kevin said, “Ida Mae is holding supper for them, but she said to tell you to come fix a plate if you’re hungry.”

Lori shook her head.  “I’ll wait.”

He glanced around.  “What are you doing?”

She gave a brief shake of her head.  “This couldn’t have happened at a worse time.  The grapes are still on the vine, we’ve got new wine in bottles, and a hundred gallons in reserve that have to be monitored.  I don’t know what Dominic had planned to do about the harvest, and who’s going to work the cellar?  And did you see that desk?  Who’s been doing the paperwork around here, anyway?  I don’t even know where to start.”

Kevin walked over to a wall of racked bottles.  “Is this the new wine?”

She shook her head.  “No, that’s what we put up this summer as a test run.”  She came over to him and took down a bottle.  “See, we didn’t label it.  It’s not for sale.  I guess they were going to serve it at their wedding.”  She smiled a little, looking down at the dusty green bottle. “I remember we did a tasting at Noah’s going-away party.  It was young, of course, but it was
good
, you know.”  Her eyes were bright with pride and pleasure as she looked up at him.  “It had real promise, even I could taste that.  And it felt so amazing to see something I had worked on go from an idea to a wine, I mean a real wine …”

Suddenly the brightness in her eyes started to glisten, and spilled over in wet splotches onto the bottle.  Kevin lifted a hand to her but Lori dashed away the tears with an angry gesture.  “No,” she said tightly.  “No, I’m okay.  I’m just so freaking mad at myself.  I had a chance to learn from a classical winemaker, one of the best teachers in the world, and he was
right here,
right here all the time and he
wanted
to teach me, but I let the chance slip away because I was too embarrassed to tell the truth.  Too proud to come home. 
Damn it
.”  She sniffed and blotted her eyes with her fist. “Just … damn it.”

Kevin said gently, “There’s no point in beating yourself up, honey.  And it sounds like there’s a chance Dominic will be okay, maybe even back to work before too long.  It’s not over, yet.”

She looked at him helplessly.  “But it is, Kev, don’t you see?  Those months that I should have been here, that I could have been here … they’re over.  They won’t come again.  And I wasted them.”

She turned and put the bottle back on the rack.  “I’ve got to get cleaned up,” she said wearily, “and put on my happy face for Mom.  This day isn’t even half over.  And I have a feeling the hardest part is yet to come.”

They walked back across the dark lawn toward the house, not touching.

~*~

“And so
then
,” Cici said, leaning back in her chair with her wine glass cradled to her chest, “Paul and Derrick came sailing in with these two big hampers outfitted with enough supplies to go on a luxury safari.  We’re talking gourmet food …”

“Smoked oysters,” put in Bridget, “and gouda with water crackers and a whole chicken that Purline had roasted that afternoon.”

“And inflatable pillows and those silk travel blankets that fold up into the size of a pocket square—”

“And even a collapsible cot!”

“And a half bottle of wine that will get Lindsay thrown out of the hospital if she doesn’t have the good sense to drink it in the bathroom,” Cici confided.  “Of course the nursing staff was fit to be tied, but what could they do?  The boys had brought gifts to share with everyone in the waiting room, not to mention perfume and Godiva chocolate to bribe the nurses, and bouquets of flowers for the families of every patient in ICU.  When we left it looked like an English garden party in there, and I swear it was the first time some of those people had smiled in weeks.”

Ida Mae gave a derisive sniff as she sat the warm apple pie on the trivet in the center of the table. “You ask me, the only thing you need in a place like that is a Bible and a prayer partner.”

“Reverend Holland was there, too,” Bridget assured her.  “He was crazy about the smoked oysters.”

They were all gathered around the kitchen table, enjoying a ground beef casserole with a flakey biscuit crust while one of the first fires of the season danced on the raised hearth.  Lori, whose Italian wardrobe consisted mostly of  jeans and summer dresses, sat closest to the fire, her bare arms covered by a sweater borrowed from her mother’s closet, her freshly shampooed hair drying in loose curls around her shoulders.  Kevin sat next to her, and their mothers were across the table. Sometimes Kevin dropped his hand to Lori’s knee under the table, because touching her, when she was this close, was simply not optional, but no one noticed.  Ida Mae, who rarely consented to join them for family meals, agreed to sit down for “just a bite,” mostly, everyone knew, so that it would be easier for her to hear all the news.

“We weren’t allowed to visit, of course,” Cici said, “But Lindsay told Dominic you were here, Lori.  He was still kind of out of it, but she said that made him smile, and he gave her a thumbs-up.”  She smiled.  “It’s so good to see you, sweetheart.  Thank you for coming.”

“And thank you both for taking care of everything this afternoon,” Bridget added.  “I don’t know how we would have gotten it done without you.”

“It wasn’t a problem.”  Lori waved a hand casually.  Then she cast a sideways glance at Kevin.  “Well, until we discovered Kevin is afraid of horses, that is.”

Kevin scowled uncomfortably.  “What’s not to be afraid of?  They’re wild animals ten times bigger than humans with teeth the size of fence pickets.”

“Thank heavens,” said Lori, “for all those riding lessons I had as a kid or those poor horses would still be standing in a corner of the field wondering where their dinner was.”

“Yeah, well, I can sing all four parts of
The Mikado
,” Kevin retorted, and refilled her glass. 

Everyone laughed, and Bridget began to slice the pie.

“I think we should bring the dog back here,” Lori said, digging into the slice of pie Bridget passed her.  “He can stay in the house until Rebel gets used to him.”

Bridget cast Cici a mildly triumphant look.

Kevin said, “I think you need to hire an armed guard for that border collie.  And take out more insurance.”

“And what happened to my room?” Lori inquired.  “Not to mention the guest room. Kevin put his stuff in Noah’s room.  I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh, sweetie.”  Cici looked momentarily nonplussed.  “We didn’t think … It’s a long story. But we’ll get a bed set up for you …”

“It’s okay,” Lori assured her.  “We already moved the furniture back in there.  But seriously.  A girl goes to Italy for a summer and you destroy her room. What’s up with that? ”

Bridget and Cici both laughed weakly, and without much humor.  “Like your mom said,” Bridget said, “it’s a long story.” 

“Does that mean you’re planning to stay awhile, sweetie?” Cici asked.  Her smile was cautiously hopeful.  “Did you tell the Marcellos when you’d be back?”

“Actually …” Lori focused on her plate.  “Things didn’t work out like I expected there.  So I guess I won’t be going back.”

“Oh.”  Cici waited, but Lori did not offer to explain further.  “I’m so sorry.”

Then, because the silence that followed was growing awkward, Cici changed the subject. “If everything goes well,” she said, accepting her own slice of pie from Bridget, “they’ll be moving Dominic into a private room tomorrow and I know he’d like to see you.”

“I’d like to see him too,” Lori said, perhaps a bit too eagerly. “Do either of you know who he’s hired to harvest the grapes?  Because they really can’t stay on the vines more than a week now without going sour.  And I know he must have contracted with a distributor for the new wine but I can’t find the papers, and does anyone know if you’re entering anything into a show because, seriously, you can’t introduce a new wine into the market without some press and Dominic knows that.”

Bridget and Cici just looked at her blankly.

“Hey,” Kevin said softly, and she felt the pressure of his fingers on her knee beneath the table.  “Maybe a little bit too much for a guy who just started breathing on his own a few hours ago.”

Lori lifted her wine glass and took a huge gulp.

“
Y’all gonna want coffee?” Ida Mae inquired from across the room. “Cause it’s getting kinda late and my show starts in ten minutes.”

Bridget said, “Thank you, Ida Mae, but no.  We’ll take care of the dishes.”

“Lindsay loved the muffins,” Cici added, turning in her chair.  “She told me to thank you.”

Ida Mae said, “Hmph. I got some good dried bloodwort for that young fellow to make into tea when he gets home.  Good for the constitution.  Y’all don’t wake me when you get up in the morning.”

Cici said, “Thank you, Ida Mae,” as she shuffled off toward her room.

Kevin lifted an eyebrow in mild distaste when she was gone. “Dried bloodwort? Really?”   

“Actually,” replied Bridget, “it’s a known immune system builder.  I saw it on the Dr. Oz website.  Sometimes these home remedies aren’t as silly as you might think.”

She placed a slice of pie on a dessert plate and passed it to Kevin.  “Now,” she said, “tell us about the job.  When do you have to be back?”