I’d wanted to believe it for years. It was just easier said than done.
My phone buzzed with a text from Bit.Wine update: carbonic maceration complete on all three varietals. Pressed yesterday. Alcoholic fermentation underway. Everything on schedule. Timeline still good for early December—seven weeks total from harvest. Should be ready to taste around the sixth or seventh.
My chest loosened. That was good news. We were about five weeks in now, which meant it wouldn’t be much longer before we’d know if the wine was what we needed it to be. We’d be cutting it close for bottling, labeling, and getting everything to auction by the deadline.
But it would work. It had to. And if it didn’t, I had a Plan B. Not that Saffron would like it. I shook my head. Better not to think about that until the time came.Ifthe time came, which I prayed it wouldn’t.
My phone buzzed again. This time, it was Saffron.Have a good Thanksgiving with your family. Miss you.
Guilt twisted in my gut. Diana had insisted I not tell her about the surprise. “She needs this,” she’d said when we planned it over the phone three days ago. “She’s been so worried about the baby, about Felicity, about everything. Let her have this one good thing she’s not expecting.”
So I’d lied. Well, not lied, exactly. I just hadn’t told her the whole truth.
You too. Miss you more,I texted back, though it felt inadequate. Three weeks apart felt like three months, and phone calls and texts weren’t enough. Not even close. I missed her so much I had a permanent ache in my chest that wouldn’t go away until I held her in my arms. Just thinking about the way she fit against me when we slept and the sound of her voice first thing in the morning made me wish I’d flown instead of driven.
I needed to be with her. Needed to hold her. Needed to make sure she was okay, because I wasn’t convinced she was, not really. She’d been carrying too much for too long, and even though she’d told me about the foreclosure, I could still feel her pull away sometimes. Like she was afraid to need me too much.
I hadn’t been on the road for more than thirty minutes when a call came in from Tryst.
“I understand we won’t be seeing you at Thanksgiving today,” he said after I accepted the call.
“I’m surprising Saffron in Napa.”
“We will miss seeing you today, but I am happy to hear you’ll be with her and her family. However, this is not the reason for my call. I wanted you to know I haven’t had any luck identifyingthe woman named Ellen. A few remember hearing the name, but no one knows who she was or what happened.”
“Thanks for the update, Tryst, and we’ll catch up next week.”
The news, while somewhat expected, unsettled me.
The rest of the drive was quiet, leaving me too much time alone with my thoughts. California’s golden hillsides stretched out on either side of the highway. Every so often, I’d pass vineyards too. This time of year, they were mostly bare, the leaves gone and the vines pruned back for winter. Harvest was over everywhere. The grapes were in tanks or barrels, beginning their transformation.
I forced myself to stop stressing about the wine whose success was so important to Saffron. I had to stay positive. Believe it was the blessing the name said it was.
By the timeI arrived at Wagner and Felicity’s, the sun was low on the horizon and my nerves were shot. The house was beautiful. It was a two-story, modern farmhouse with plenty of space for a growing family. The Wagners had money, and it showed. Not in a flashy way, just in the solid, well-built way that came from generations of success in the wine business.
Diana must’ve been watching from the window because the front door opened before I’d even turned off the engine. I couldn’t help but grin as I climbed out of the truck and she stepped onto the porch, finger pressed to her lips, shushing me.
“She’s in the nursery, with the baby,” Diana whispered when I reached her. “Felicity’s resting.”
“Where should I?—”
“Go surprise her.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Upstairs, second door on the right.”
I moved through the house as quietly as I could. Nice place. Warm. It felt like a family lived here. I could hear Saffron’ssinging as I climbed the stairs It was something I didn’t recognize but knew it was off-key and sweet. The best part was she was completely unselfconscious about it. Like when she was stealing my food from my plate, Saffron had never been shy about singing at the top of her lungs, even when everyone around her gave her shit about not being able to carry a tune.
I stopped in the doorway of the nursery and watched her for a second. She sat in the rocking chair, with her niece cradled in her arms, backlit by the window. The baby was tiny, so small it made my chest ache. Saffron was lost in the moment, and I wished I could freeze time right there. Just hold onto this image of her forever.
“Pretty song. Should I recognize it?” I asked, winking.
She gasped, and her eyes went wide.“Snapper?”
She stood and moved toward me slowly, careful not to wake the baby I could now see was fast asleep.
“What are you—? How are you?—?”
I crossed to her, unable to stop grinning. “Surprise,” I whispered, kissing her.
“But you said—? Your family?—?”
