Christmas in Wine Country (43 page)

And Californian she truly was, she had to admit. Out for a post dinner walk with the dogs and her mother on the frozen tundra that was the beach she realized she’d lost all ability to tolerate cold. Her mother hadn’t seemed bothered, however. She spent their time together in nonstop rumination on the potential roadblocks in the way of the café’s success. While Gram was all atwitter about the recent happy turn of events with Jake, her mother was all business.

“Have you gone over the liability insurance with a lawyer?” her mom asked, pinched worry on her face. “Because someone slips, they sue you—”

“It’s OK, Mom,” Lila reassured her. “Everything’s going to be OK.”

Her mother’s onslaught stopped and, after a pause, Lila looked over to see what was the matter. She realized with surprise that her mother was choked up. Shocked at
the visual emotions—something her mother avoided at all cost—Lila looked away and gave her a minute to collect herself.

After a bit, her mother agreed, “That is what I hope for you, Lila.”

“I know, mom.” To heck with it. Lila put an arm around her mom’s waist. “Thanks for all you’ve done for me. I know it hasn’t been easy for you.”

Now they both choked up. Never the ones to have a good cry and a hug, they walked together in silence. And some mutual appreciation. Shrugging deep into her borrowed extra-layer coat, hat, scarf and mittens, Lila wondered at it. Rather than racing out to the tune her mother played or railing against it, here she was simply feeling grateful. 

Must be the delirium induced by true romance, she thought. While a continent had divided Jake and Lila, phone calls, texts and emails were deployed to provide water, sunlight and rich soil to their budding flower of a romance. Though Lila wasn’t quite spinning in the mountains and singing, she did find herself infused from fingertips to toenails with a deep happiness. It provided a nice buffer to the things that usually nettled.

The night after Christmas, Lila and her Gram sat up late with a bowl of popcorn and Humphrey Bogart.

“Lila my dear,” Gram declared during a commercial break. “You’ve come into you own.” Lila wasn’t 100% sure what that meant, but she agreed that she felt good and not just about Jake. Maybe it was all the homemade soups. Maybe it was knowing that
Sven and Olga would be there if she needed to make a quick getaway. Or maybe it was just knowing that, at least for the foreseeable future, she wasn’t going to have to sit through any interminable meetings listening to the droning of insufferable bosses.

When she landed at SFO, Jake was waiting for her at the airport, a first for her in her history with men. She nearly broke out into a dance of joy when she emerged from the terminal, roller bag and heavy winter coat in tow, and saw him standing there, leaning against a wall, hands in his pockets looking slightly shy. He waited until they were in the car to say a proper hello with much of what the Brit’s aptly called snogging.

“For you.” Lila presented Jake with a gift bag filled with some hideously bright colored salt water taffy, since he’d claimed he’d never had it before; a personalized photo frame from the Christmas Tree Shop; and a new Red Sox baseball cap because you can never really have enough. Also, some homemade banana bread wrapped and then wrapped again from Gram.

Jake took a box out from his jacket pocket. Lila opened it to find a simple, silver bracelet. “Jake!” she exclaimed.

“Sorry I didn’t have something for you before you left,” he apologized, fumbling with the clasp as he put it on her wrist. “Before the party I was pretty much sure you weren’t talking to me. And then afterwards…” and this with a grin up at her, “You kind-of kept me monopolized.” She did just that, once again, as they heated up the car in the chilly San Francisco December evening. “So you like it?” he asked when they finally came up for air.

“It’s no flashing light wreath pin,” Lila teased, thinking of their favorite holiday party interloper, Mrs. Crockett. “But, yes, it’s perfect.”

It took them a bit longer to start on their way. When they did, Jake had an 80s mix on his iPod. They chatted and, yes, occasionally sang along with the more irresistible lyrics, snug in his warm car, darkness outside as they returned home.

*
             
*
             
*

No chocolate shop kitchen to hang out in any longer, Annie and Lila congregated in the soon-to-be bookstore café. Annie in her purple cow apron—though not making chocolate it seemed to signify work; Zoe in her yoga capris, tank and hoodie; and Lila in stretchy chocolate cords, warm fuzzy boots for the end of December and a pale lilac cashmere sweater, they all gathered around the countertop.

             
Chipped deli formica no longer, the counter now had a rich, faux marble top, deep brown with shots of gold running through. Lila absently traced one of the strands with her index finger, a dreamy smile on her face.

             
“If I didn’t like you so much, you would be making me sick right now,” Annie commented, hand on her hip.

             
“What?” Lila asked, still smiling and knowing exactly what Annie was talking about.

             
“I swear, with you humming and beaming like you’re a Disney princess.” Annie shook her head. “But you deserve it. You deserve it.” The second iteration was murmured, under her breath, as if a reminder to herself.

             
“Am I that bad?” Lila asked, almost annoying even herself with the sweet, innocent lilt in her voice.

             
“It’s just like Prince William and Kate Middleton,” Zoe sighed. “Only better, because you’ll never have to worry about coordinating hats with your outfits. You can just wear whatever hats you want.”

             
“All right you guys, four weeks now,” Annie reminded them. “Pete’s going to Home Depot today. We have to pick.” The wall separating the café from the bookstore had finally come down over the Christmas holiday. The worksite was now blocked off by large sheets of plastic and the remaining walls needed some color.

             
Toying with the bracelet Jake had given her just last night, Lila knew she was beaming and completely checked out from the Paint Color Debate. As all three turned their attention to the test stripes of different paint shades along the far wall, Lila found each of them enchanting. In such a beautiful world as this, who could dislike a shade of paint? Recognizing her uselessness, she resolved to simply listen to Zoe and Annie’s insights and then back them up.

             
“Have you heard about that?” Zoe’s question cut into Lila’s reverie. She and Annie were laughing over something that apparently required her attention.

             
“Godfrey’s New Year’s resolution,” Annie supplied, growing accustomed to Lila’s newfound inability to follow conversations.

             
“Ooh,” Lila knew this would be good. “Tell.”

             
“He’s going to re-write the Lord of the Rings trilogy in 365 days,” Zoe explained.

             
“Backwards,” Annie added. “Don’t forget that.”

“Backwards?” Lila repeated, the hint of a smile emerging.

“So, you’d start with the ring getting destroyed,” Annie explained. “And go from there.”

“Isn’t all the tension about what’s going to happen with the ring? Are the bad guys going to get it?” Lila asked.

   “OK, it sounds crazy,” Zoe acknowledged, ever able to see the world through a variety of perspectives. “But he’s already got, like, 5,000 people signed up for his blog to read it. And he hasn’t even started yet.”

“Maybe we can do some sort of a tie-in with our opening?” Annie asked, happy to take it seriously at the mention of thousands of followers. “Something on the menu? What do Hobbits eat?”

“Probably something British.” Zoe stretched into a tree pose, ostensibly for inspiration.

“Lila, didn’t you make a plum pudding for Christmas?” Annie asked, recalling Lila’s pre-Christmas enthusiasm for baking something new and festive for the holiday.

Lila winced in remembrance and called them off with a, “not good.”

             
“All right you guys,” Zoe declared, shrugging into her fuzzy jacket. “I have some almonds soaking back home and I’m sure they’ve sprouted by now.”

             
“I’m always learning something new from you,” Lila remarked.

             
“Why, how do you sprout your almonds?” Zoe asked, unable to conceive of a world in which people not only lacked the necessary know-how to sprout their almonds, but were entirely unaware that nuts were capable of something so animated.

             
“We’d better get you on the road,” Annie intervened, placing a hand on Zoe’s back and handing her the large hand-knitted woolen rabbit with ear flaps that constituted her hat.

             
“Don’t stay up too late,” Zoe cautioned as she headed toward the door. “Did you know the average American gets 2-3 hours less sleep than they need every night?”

             
“Good night Zoe!” Lila called after her, thinking how happy she was to have recently
re
joined the ranks of the sleep deprived. For it wasn’t insomnia that was keeping her up, it was Jake.   

             
“She’s still working with Big Bob every morning, you know,” Annie said as she turned her attention to chalkboards. She’d ordered three of differing shapes and sizes and needed to select the one that would most attractively
adverti
s
e
the specials of the day.

             
“Don’t you mean Robert?” Lila asked, opening up a large cardboard box containing one of the chalkboards. Zoe had started referring to her newest, most devoted client by his full first name in honor of his new lease on life and, it appeared, new identity. “Big Bob tried too hard,” Zoe had confessed to Lila. “Robert is comfortable with himself.”

             
“They’re going to start dating, you know.” Annie attacked another cardboard box. “I can totally see it. Zoe’ll become his fourth wife. Then you’ll marry Jake and she’ll become your mother-in-law.”

             
“That…” Lila had to sit down with the thought. “Would be truly awesome.”

             
“She’d be all interfering with your lives,” Annie laughed. “Making you raise your kids vegan and dress them in organic cotton.”

             
Setting out the three potential chalkboards, Annie and Lila sat on the floor. “I think I like the one on the left,” Annie said. Lila turned her attention to the square chalkboard as Annie continued, “but does it say, ‘classic yet totally now?’” They spent the next 10 minutes debating the merits of square vs. rectangle vs. oval before deciding that, yes, the square one on the left had a decidedly hip yet old-fashioned charm.

As they re-boxed the rejects Annie asked, “So what are you guys doing for New Year’s? We’re heading to Ted’s.”

             
“Not sure yet.” Lila wasn’t used to the assumption that she and Jake were going to be doing something together for a major holiday, yet she was starting to gain confidence that that’s what would happen.

             
“Do you two want to get some dinner beforehand with me and Pete?”

             
“Are you asking me out on a date?”

             
“I am.”

             
“I love it.” Lila’s phone beeped. It triggered an instantaneously huge, radiant smile as she read Jake’s text: “done yet???”

             
“Go on,” Annie shooed her, seeming to know the message without being told. “Get out of here. And remember, you’d be making me sick if I weren’t so happy for you.” With a quick hug, Lila got on out of there. 

             
The very next day, Lila got a chance to meet Big Bob, a.k.a. Robert. Technically, it was the second time they’d met, but this was the first as his son’s girlfriend. Jake was at the vineyard and suggested she stop by and say hello. He held her hand as they walked down a hallway and to his father’s study, Lila’s heart pounding.

Big Bob was sitting behind a large desk rapt with intense focus on an object in the center of the rich mahogany. Jake led Lila into the room.

Big Bob didn’t look up as he bellowed the question, “Have you ever looked at a seashell?” Lila noticed that the object receiving his attentions was, in fact, a large conch. “I mean really looked at it.”

“This is Lila, Dad,” Jake started in, determined to adhere to the intended path of introductions. “And, you know, she grew up on Cape Cod so I bet she knows a lot about seashells.”

“When I was a kid I had a collection—” Lila began.

“Come!” Big Bob thundered, beckoning with his hand. Apparently not New Age enough to have forsaken his authoritative nature, he patted the chair next to him and commanded, “Sit!”
             
Lila gave a questioning look at Jake who shrugged his shoulders
and then nodded as if to indicate, sure, she might as well go ahead and sit in that chair and there was about a 90% likelihood that it wouldn’t bite. Seated next to Jake’s father, no one said a word.