Here With Me (13 page)

It made Melody nervous. Bernard had never
married, had never even dated as far as she knew. To coin a phrase
from George, Bernard
courted
grapes.

“It’s none of my business,” she said,
“but—”

“You’re right,” he interrupted. “It isn’t any
of your business.”

Her feelings were barely even bruised. How
could they be when she was so worried? She loved Bernard and she
didn’t want to see him get hurt. And while she knew better than to
pass judgement, something told her that Ms. Fields wasn’t the type
of woman likely to be interested in Bernard—if for no other reason
than she had to be at least twenty years younger.

She plucked at his sleeve. “Bernard, just be
careful. Okay?”

He looked her over. “Maybe I’ve been a little
too careful my whole life. Maybe it’s time for me to stop being
cautious.” He reached over, took a glass of wine off the tray that
Bessie was carrying past, and calmly walked away from Melody,
leaving her with her mouth hanging open.

Oh, for goodness sakes. Couldn’t the man just
take up surfboarding or skydiving? There was no need to be crazy
here.

“Darling,” her grandmother said, coming up
behind her. “Come with us. I want to introduce you and George to
our guest.” She had George firmly anchored on her left, and she
hooked her right arm through Melody’s.

Up close, the woman was even prettier and
thinner. “Rebecca,” her grandmother said, “may I introduce my
granddaughter, Melody, and her new husband, George Johnson.”

Rebecca extended a soft hand with absolutely
perfectly manicured fingers. It took everything Melody had not to
hide her own bare, sort-of-short, sometimes-chewed fingernails.

“I’m delighted to meet you,” Rebecca said,
her voice so on-camera sweet that Melody thought she might have
stumbled upon a sound stage. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Since Louis was the woman’s contact, Melody
could just imagine what she’d heard. “The pleasure is mine.”

Rebecca released Melody’s hand and
immediately turned her attention to George. She extended her hand.
“My, my,” she said, “why is it that all the gorgeous men are
already married.”

“Ma’am,” George said, nodding his head at
her.

She winked at him. “It’s ‘miss’.” She had yet
to release his hand.

The absurdity of the situation hit Melody
like a seven-year-old running full speed toward home plate. An
absolutely stunning woman was interested in George who would be a
crazy man not to be interested in return, but he could do nothing.
Otherwise, she’d have to tell her grandmother that she was a liar.
And an unwed mother-to-be.

It really wasn’t fair to George.

Melody pulled gently on her grandmother’s
arm. “Let’s go talk to Aunt Genevieve. She’s standing over there
all by herself.”

Grandmother looked between George and Rebecca
Fields, like she was afraid to leave the two of them alone.

“Don’t worry about Rebecca,” Melody chattered
brightly. “George can entertain her.”

She didn’t look back until she’d reached Aunt
Genevieve’s side. Then she was sorry she did. Rebecca and George
were sitting on the couch, their heads close together. She turned
back to Genevieve. Mona was draped around her neck, her front paws
folded nicely on one side, her tail flipping furiously on the
other.

“There’s a name for women like her,” Aunt
Genevieve said.

“She’s just outgoing,” Melody said. “Probably
was a cheerleader in high school.”

Aunt Genevieve rolled her eyes. “It’s a shame
your baby is using up all your oxygen. Must make it hard to reason
things out.”

She ignored the comment and pretended to be
fascinated by the tray of crackers and cheese on the table next to
where her grandmother stood.

“I think we better have dinner,” her
grandmother said.

“Good idea,” muttered Aunt Genevieve. “Before
that one thinks it’s time for dessert.”

Within minutes Grandmother had them moving
toward their chairs. She sat at the head of the table with Aunt
Genevieve at her left. Then it was Bernard, Gino, and Louis
rounding out the side. Grandmother waved Rebecca to the seat
directly to her right and then motioned for Melody, George, and
Tilly to file in.

George had his hand already on his appointed
chair when Melody slipped into it, leaving George to sit between
Rebecca and herself. He gave her a look but obligingly sat next to
Rebecca Fields, who wasted no time in leaning his direction and
saying something in her soft, aren’t-I-sexy, voice.

There’d been no good option. No way in hell
was she letting Tilly sit next to George. Not only had the woman
practically drooled over him on the stairs, she’d also had time to
prepare a full arsenal of questions. George wouldn’t stand a chance
and the whole charade would be uncovered. She couldn’t let that
happen. However, now she’d have to spend an hour watching Rebecca
Fields charm George.

“Melody, would you like to lead us in
prayer?”

Dear God. Please make Rebecca Fields pick
her teeth at the table.
“Absolutely, Grandmother.” She looked
around the room. Bernard was staring at Rebecca, Tilly at the
potatoes, and Aunt Genevieve had her eyes narrowed at George. He
was the only one with his hands together and his head bent.

What was he praying for?

“Melody?” her grandmother prompted.

“Okay.” She ran her tongue across her teeth.
“Heavenly Father. We. . .uh. . .we thank you for this opportunity
for our family to be together.” She made the mistake of looking up.
Louis looked amused. “And we. . .uh. . .thank you for this food.”
Now what? “Please watch over us,” she finished and quickly unfolded
her hands.

“Amen?” her grandmother prompted.

“Yes. Amen,” Melody added. George turned his
head and smiled at her.

It was the last time he looked at her. His
attention shifted to Rebecca Fields when the woman put her hand on
his wrist. Melody tried very hard to pretend that it didn’t bother
her. Or that later, when she heard George laugh at something the
woman said, that it wasn’t hard to swallow her roast beef.

Bessie had just cleared the dirty plates when
Gino’s cell phone rang. It startled Melody because one, Gino rarely
carried a cell phone and two, everybody knew Grandmother hated
those kinds of interruptions at the table.

She looked at her grandmother but she didn’t
see irritation in the woman’s eyes. Instead, it was pure concern.
Gino pushed his chair back and was halfway out of the room when he
answered on the third ring.

“What’s going on?” Louis asked.

Grandmother didn’t answer. Aunt Genevieve
looked like she wanted to speak up but a quick shake of her
sister’s head had her silent as well.

Bessie had delivered dessert and coffee by
the time Gino came back. Melody felt scared when she saw that his
eyes were red.

“It’s over,” he said, looking at
Grandmother.

She nodded. “I’m sorry, Gino. You know I want
you to take as much time as you need.”

“It could be four weeks,” he said, looking
uncomfortable.

“Go.” It was Aunt Genevieve who issued the
terse order. “Your mother needs you.”

It was Gino’s turn to nod. “I’ve been trying
to stay ready, to be prepared. I’ve got a good list made of what
needs to be done over the next couple of weeks. Arturo can handle
it.”

“What’s going on?” Louis repeated his
question. His voice was louder, more agitated than before.

“My father is dead,” Gino answered. He stood
straight, rather stiffly, like he didn’t want to talk about it.

Melody understood. She knew the story. Gino
hadn’t spoken to his father in over thirty years. Grandmother had
told her that they’d had a terrible falling-out when Gino had left
the family vineyard in Italy and had come to work for Grandmother.
Gino had always kept in contact with his mother, talking once a
week on the telephone, and he’d paid for her to come visit him in
the United States several times.

“Arturo can barely read English,” Louis said.
“He certainly can’t manage fifteen other men or the complexities of
the vineyard.” The man looked at his wife.

“Louis will have to do it,” Tilly said.
“Somebody in the family needs to be in charge.”

Nobody at the table said a word. Bernard
looked like he’d eaten something sour and Grandmother and Aunt
Genevieve exchanged another look that told Melody neither woman
thought the suggestion was a good one.

Grandmother, ever the professional, turned to
Rebecca Fields. “Rebecca, I’m sorry but as you can see, we have
some business to attend to.” She glanced across the table.
“Bernard, would you be willing to share dessert and coffee with
Rebecca in the living room?”

Under normal circumstances, Melody knew it
would take an earthquake to remove Bernard from a discussion about
the vineyard. Every winemaker knew that the secret to wonderful
wine was wonderful grapes. And wonderful grapes didn’t just happen.
They needed tender loving care in the form of just the right amount
of sun, the right amount of water, and vigilance against the
insects and other pests that threatened a growing vine.

He looked from Gino, to Louis, then back
again to Grandmother. Ultimately, Rebecca was a force that could
not be denied. He picked up his cheesecake and his coffee. “I’d be
happy to,” he said.

Rebecca had the good grace not to make a
scene. She stood up, picked up her own dessert and coffee, and
smiled at the group. “It’s been a pure delight,” she said. “Thank
you so much for inviting me.”

Melody noticed that the woman’s utterance of
delight had happened at exactly the same moment her gaze had
reached and settled on George. She looked around to see if anyone
else had noticed, but all eyes were on Grandmother, wondering what
the heck she was going to do.

Grandmother waited until the door was shut
behind Bernard and Rebecca before turning toward Louis and Tilly.
She licked her lips and when she spoke, her voice was surprisingly
strong, reminding Melody of the Grandmother of old. “Arturo is a
fine young man. And if Gino thinks he’s ready, then he’s
ready.”

Louis turned red. “But—”

“But since,” she interrupted him, “it is my
name on the bottle and my reputation, I don’t see any harm in
having a family member working with him, side by side.”

“Louis doesn’t prune vines, Mother,” Tilly
said in a disgusted tone.

Louis’s face had toned down to a dull pink.
“No, but I sure as hell can tell somebody else how to do it.”

“Of course you can,” Grandmother replied
smoothly. “But last week when we needed help spraying sulfur after
that rain, you told me you were much too busy with the mail-order
business.”

“But this is different,” Uncle Louis
said.

Melody knew what was different. Last week
he’d have actually had to work. Now he was gleefully contemplating
bossing their trusted employees around. Gino would be lucky to come
home to a crew.

Grandmother turned slightly in her chair and
looked first at Melody and then George. “I believe we all agree
that one of the family should take over for Gino. George, can you
do this for us?”

Melody could feel her ears grow hot. George
had straightened in his chair and she sensed his discomfort with
the request.

It was all her fault. She’d told everyone he
was family. He certainly hadn’t signed on for this. He was supposed
to show up, pretend to be a husband, earn a few dollars, and be on
his way.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, I don’t know
much about grapes.”

There was a grunt of satisfaction from
Louis’s end of the table.

“Gino is right in that Arturo does know what
needs to be done. I just want you there as a second set of eyes and
ears. Please.”

George turned to look at her and Melody
resisted the impulse to apologize. Instead, she looked him in the
eye. “It’s your decision, George. No one will think less of you if
you say no.”

“That’s true,” Grandmother said.

“That’s good to know,” he said. “However, if
you think I can be of assistance, I’d be happy to help.”

Tilly left the table without finishing her
dessert. Louis, always better at keeping his feelings under wraps,
settled back into his chair and sipped his coffee. “Work starts
early in the vineyard, George.”

“I imagine it does,” George said, his tone
even.

Gino looked at his watch. “I’m catching a
red-eye out of San Francisco tonight but I have enough time to take
you out and introduce you to Arturo.”

Louis straightened up in his chair but before
he could speak, Aunt Genevieve pushed her chair back and stood up.
“Gino, grass is growing under your feet. Just go. I’ll take care of
introducing him around tomorrow morning. You know I’m always
up.”

Gino nodded and he looked first at George,
then at Grandmother and Aunt Genevieve. “I appreciate this,” he
said. Then he looked at Melody. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to spend
more time with you, Sweet Pea. Next time, okay?”

She got up and gave him the hug that she’d
been wanting to deliver for the last fifteen minutes. “Take care,”
she said. “We’ll be thinking about you.”

Gino shook his head and awkwardly patted her
belly. “I’m happy for you.” He glanced at George one last time and
his eyes were serious. “You’ve got Sweet Pea and her baby and now
my grapes to take care of. I hope to hell you’re a good man.”

It was the kind of statement that didn’t
require a reply and George didn’t give him one. Gino hugged Melody
and was out the door.

Nobody said anything for at least a minute.
Then George pushed back his chair.

She figured he was going to go look for
Rebecca Fields.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” George
said, “and since work does start early, I think I’ll retire for the
evening if no one has any objections.”