Christmas in Wine Country (14 page)

“I think I do,” Lila admitted. Not that she knew much about trucks, but his lecture thus far had cleaved close to one central theme: of all the types of trucks in all the world—and apparently there were a lot—his type was the best.  

“Lila, tell Pete that’s how it happened!” Annie broke into their conversation from across the table.

Turning with some relief, Lila asked, “What?”

“Back in junior year. Remember? When I told him he had to step it up?” 

“Oh, right!” Pete mocked with a laugh.

“You mean The Talk?” Lila asked, remembering the episode around midway through their junior year when Annie and Pete had nearly broken up. According to Annie’s version, tough guy Pete had cried and Annie had explained that he needed to mend his ways and how.

             
“I had it all under control,” Pete said, taking another swig of his beer. 

             
“Oh honey,” Annie ruffled the back of her husband’s hair.

             
“Wait,” Tom interrupted, pointing between Lila and Annie. “You two knew each other in college?”

             
“Yeah, man,” Pete answered. “Remember, I told you Lila was Annie’s college roommate?”

             
“Huh.” Tom finished off what was easily his sixth beer. Bringing the glass back down to the table with a resounding smack, he turned to Pete and bellowed, “Moose!”

             
With a chuckle, Pete yelled back, “Moose!”

             
It was about the fourth time the men had referenced the largest species in the deer family. As far as Lila could tell, the outburst referenced something hilarious about which only they knew. The only other topic that had roused Tom was trucks; apparently he had a big one.

Annie looked at Lila and scrunched up her nose for a quick but revealing moment that communicated “Sorry.”

Lila responded with a quizzical look and one hand raised in a ‘Why did you think we’d hit it off, exactly?’ Getting it—such was the ability of college roommates 10 years into their friendship to communicate—Annie shrugged and then mouthed the words “great shoulders.” Nodding in agreement, Tom did have great
shoulders,
Lila took another sip of her beer and let her wandering eye rove around the bar as a girl out on a date with a man repeatedly yelling “Moose” is
wont
to do.  

Over by the pool table, Lila spotted someone tall, dark and handsome and let herself beer goggle. She couldn’t quite see his face with what seemed to be the bar uniform of a tattered baseball cap pulled down low, but she liked how he focused so intently with that strong jawline, studying possible angles for his next shot. Funny how on one guy stubble made you think homeless or at least living in his mother’s basement playing video games, while on another it made you think how you wouldn’t mind finding yourself trapped with him in a closet. He had on the kind of faded, broken-in
longsleeved t-shirt that you knew would be soft to touch and jeans that were just…normal, not skinny tapered or dyed pitch black or laced with huge pockets or droopy falling down off his hips.

             
“Here’s to not being in the city!” Lila exclaimed and she and Annie clinked glasses.

“’Nother pitcher?” Tom asked Pete, using his hands on the table to push himself up to standing. Pete nodded and rose to head to the bathroom.

             
“Here’s to getting you back!” Annie said to Lila, raising her glass again.

             
“Back?”

             
“You got lame for a while there, Lila.”

             
“Yeah, I didn’t feel much like heading out,” Lila agreed. This winter she’d hibernated. “I’ve been all about cashmere socks and soup.” 

             
“Not just this winter—the past five years. You went all corporate on me. You had that ironed-out blonde hair. And you were so skinny I nearly cut myself giving you a hug.”

             
“Really?” Lila asked, amused and with a bit of a beer buzz. 

             
“You left college and it was like you joined some cult.”

Lila could picture all her old AdSales co-workers buzzing around the cubicles like bees in a hive. Not first thing in the morning, though. Before the coffee kicked in they
were more like zombies. She could imagine them, grey-faced, torn clothes, arms outstretched as they made the classic zombie moan. “Brains,” Lila groaned.

             
“You’re buzzed,” Annie laughed, filling Lila’s empty glass with the newly-arrived pitcher. 

             
“Maybe you’re just not deep enough to follow what I’m saying.”

             
“Yeah, that’s it.” They both felt compelled to give their glasses another clink. “Anyway, welcome back.” 

             
“I was just at the bar,” Tom replied, sitting down. “But, thanks,” he added, confused as to why he’d made Annie and Lila laugh harder.  

             
After a quick call to her mother-in-law to ensure Charlotte was sleeping soundly—answer was yes—Annie announced that Pete was driving home and poured herself another beer. “Lila,” Annie said. “When you have a baby, make sure you have an awesome mother-in-law who lives down the street and loves to babysit. My tip to you,” Annie raised her glass. “Free advice.” 

             
Looking around the bar in the hazy din, laughter, music, a table to her left playing a card game, Lila decided that there would be more Ted’s in her future. Most of the bars in the city, at least the ones she’d gone to with Valeria and Venice, had been packed with attitude in all its different varieties: bored to death out on a Friday night, sunglasses in a dark bar, tattoo encircling my throat, wanna be model. Lila had never found one that felt like her scene. At Ted’s, she already felt like a regular. 

Taking the latest bellow of “Moose!” as her cue to make a brief exit, Lila headed up to the jukebox. A classic one that had been restored, it had pink and white dials that rotated with a press of a button. Happily, she saw that the faded t-shirt guy she’d been oogling by the pool table was now standing and flipping through song choices.

“Any Van Halen?” she asked, sidling on over. When the guy slowly looked up, Lila was glad she wasn’t sipping beer as she would have done a spit-take. Quickly looking away from Jake Endicott, she tried to focus down at the jukebox. “You can choose.” She took a step away.

Sliding quarters in the slot, Jake started flipping through song selections. “Are you up here planning an event or something?”

“Oh no. No, no, no. I’m not doing that anymore.” Lila shook her head and they both descended into silence, perhaps contemplating how beneficial that was for the party planning industry.

“What brings you back here then?

“I’ve moved here? To Redwood Cove?” Lila shifted her weight from one foot to the other and wondered when she’d regain the power to make statements instead of questions. What was he doing there, anyway, incognito? Didn’t he have a plantation to run?

“Are you from around here?”

“No, Massachusetts?” 

“Yeah? I went to boarding school in Massachusetts. And then I went to Dartmouth.” Lila took a sip of her beer and waited for him to start regaling her with hilarious tales of frat boy high jinx lighting cows on fire and drugging Freshman girls. Either that or fascinating golf stories about sand traps and telling the caddy to be there in five or there’d be hell to pay. She knew since she’d gone to Colgate, a snooty private college in its own right, one might accuse her of being unfair. But she’d gone there on scholarship, thank you very much, and still had the chip on her shoulder to show for it.  

“Broken into any cars lately?” Jake asked, still focused on the jukebox.   

“I don’t break into cars,” Lila protested, stopping herself before she gave him a smack on the shoulder. This was Jake Endicott, after all, not Pete. 

“That’s your story,” Jake replied, turning toward her. “But I was thinking about it and I realized, how do I know that was your car? All I saw was you standing next to it in the rain.”

Unable to tell if he was teasing, Lila looked up into his eyes. Dark and brown, they gave nothing away. Remembering the scene—pouring rain, desperate measures involving low-quality licorice and her VISA card—she retorted, “Well, if I was trying to use a credit card to break in, then I pretty much suck as a car thief.”

“No, it’s brilliant,” Jake disagreed. “Play damsel in distress. Get some guy to break in for you. Then drive off.”

“That’s actually a great idea,” Lila acknowledged.

She was about to expand on it when a cold, red-nailed claw snaked its way around Jake’s forearm and dragged him away in a puff of perfume. At least, that’s how it seemed to Lila when Vanessa suddenly appeared and made her claim on Jake. Meeting Vanessa’s “We need to talk” with his familiar scowl, Jake barely grunted a goodbye before striding away. 

“Ah, young love,” Lila thought, giving the departing pair a quick glance. Both seemed equally unhappy, Vanessa raking her fingers through her perfectly coiffed hair in distress and Jake with his arms folded implacably across his chest. Glad she wasn’t caught in the cross-fire of whatever was going on between them, Lila selected some Hall and Oates and headed back to her table.

By the door, Vanessa gestured somewhat wildly with her hands while Jake stood there glowering, imperious and unmoved. It reminded Lila of something. Sipping her beer, Lila’s eyes widened as she recalled the holiday party scene on the cobblestone, her rabidly gesticulating about the imminent danger of all the guests and him giving a stone-cold shut-down. Not liking the memory of either of their behavior, she brushed it aside in favor of focusing on the current drama. She and the rest of the bar’s patrons watched as Jake opened the door and gestured for Vanessa to head outside where they’d make less of a scene. In a huff, Vanessa stomped out, Jake following with a nearly visible dark cloud over his head.

“Fun!” Lila commented, turning back to her companions.

A game of quarters and a glass of water later—she was driving herself home, after all—they reached the point in the evening at which a red and shiny-faced Tom got
in real close and, warm beer breath on Lila’s cheek, exhaled, “You’re hot. Wanna go see my truck?” 

“Thanks, Tom,” Lila replied, giving his arm a pat that was half maternal (you’ve had too much to drink) and half block (you stay right there). “Maybe another time.” Turning to Annie, she said, “Think I might call it a night.” Rising amidst Annie’s and Tom’s protests, Lila grabbed her sweater coat and keys.

“Bye, Lila,” Pete waved lazily. “Glad you made it out.”

“Me too,” Lila replied with a smile. Liquored-up Tom notwithstanding, she’d had a good time. She waved good-bye and headed out into the cool evening air. The stars were out, not something to be taken for granted given the habitual heavy evening fog. Lila stood for a moment by her car gazing up at them, glad to be at just that spot on the earth at just that moment.

*
             
*
             
*

Passenger window rolled down a few inches, Lila fought the urge to crank it even lower and stick her head out like a dog. Early April brought spring in all its glory. She had the day off, she wore a new, soft blue t-shirt without an outer layer, and the sun was shining. Outside, the coastline of Highway 1 rolled past.

             
Annie scowled behind the wheel, much less happy. They’d met at the chocolate shop that morning when Lila had swung by to say hello. Annie had been in the midst of dealing with a client’s crisis: the party was in three hours and dogs had shredded and eaten the edible arrangements. Adding to the chaos, chocolate made dogs sick and two
of the most zealous eaters needed medical attention. Lila had pitched in to re-make arrangements and decided to keep Annie company while delivering them to the site.

             
“I’ll make you dinner tonight,” Annie said from behind the wheel.

             
“No need.”

             
“You don’t know where we’re delivering these yet,” Annie replied, Lila already belted tight into the car.

Leaving Highway 1 to start climbing up and over the ridge, through redwoods and then rolling vineyards, Lila learned that she was on her way to help Annie deliver chocolaty centerpieces to Vanessa at Endicott Vineyards. Swearing under her breath, Lila rubbed her eyes and told herself it would just be a quick pit stop. Maybe she could stay in the car the whole time. 

Pulling into a parking space at the vineyard next to the great room, Vanessa emerged from the trees like a jungle cat, nearly pouncing on the car. Annie got right out and began wrestling with the beast, discussing quantity, quality and location of centerpieces. Lila fiddled with her seatbelt.

             
“You three.” Vanessa’s red nails scooped an arch in the air as she summoned three men over by the main estate building to help move the chocolate displays. Two hopped to it.

The other wore a hodgepodge ensemble of a cowboy hat, tank top, army pants, and knee-high rubber boots. A large, black Chinese symbol was tattooed on his bicep.
He stayed leaning against a pick-up truck. “No can do, bra. I’ve got bluebird houses that need some TLC.”