“If what?”
“If the wine doesn’t work. If I fail anyway.” She turned toward me. “I don’t know who I am if I’m not the person holding everything together.”
“You’re the woman I care about more than anyone. That’s who you are.”
“Is it enough?”
“Absolutely, Saff. It’s everything.”
We stopped to get gas an hour later, and while I filled the tank, she went inside to get us both coffee. She returned and stood near my truck.
“I’m sorry I didn’t let you say it.”
“You weren’t ready to hear it.”
“I want to be. I just—I need to figure who I am. You know?”
I kissed her forehead. “Take all the time you need, sweetheart.”
“Because you’re not going anywhere?”
I smiled. “Not unless you’re with me.”
I wished that was enough, but I could tell it wasn’t. I rested my head against the seat, thinking about how many people gave me shit about taking long enough to realize Saffron and I were meant to be together. I suppose I had, but what they didn’t realize was that it didn’t matter whether I was ready for us to commit to each other forever; it was Saffron who wasn’t there yet.
16
SAFFRON
The stack of bills on my desk hadn’t shrunk since I’d moved them from the kitchen table to the winery office. Equipment suppliers demanding payment. Distributor notices threatening to suspend our account. Twenty-six days remained until New Year’s Eve, and every envelope felt like another nail in a coffin.
My phone rang, and Mom’s name lit up the screen.
“Honey, we’re coming home tomorrow,” she said when I picked up.
I sat up straight, my heart slamming against my ribs. “Tomorrow? Already?”
“Beatrice is growing like a weed and keeping her parents up all night, and the doctor says she’s meeting all of her milestones on time or early.” My mom’s voice softened with emotion. “Felicity and Wagner need this time on their own to figure out how to be a family. And honestly, sweetheart, we miss home. We miss you.”
Friday.The wine had been integrating for almost a week, which meant it would be ready to taste on Friday, the same day my parents were coming home.
“That’s great, Mom. I can’t wait to see you both,” I said, hoping I sounded at least a little sincere.
“We should be home in time for dinner. Maybe we can all eat together? I’ve missed cooking in my own kitchen almost as much as I’ve missed sleeping in my own bed.”
“That sounds perfect. I’ll make sure the house is ready.”
After we hung up, I stared at my phone for several seconds before pulling up my text thread with Snapper.
My parents coming home tomorrow.
His response came within seconds.Good timing?
Or terrible. What if it’s not good enough?
Then, we figure out what’s wrong and fix it. We still have time.
What if we can’t fix it?
