“Hey, you guys,” she said weakly, “I, uh, I don’t think I can do this.”
“Sure, you can,” Jan reassured her.
“But I—”
“You’re just nervous,” Mike added. “That’s only natural. But relax. Remember you’re with friends here, and we’ve got—”
“But you don’t understand,” she protested. “I hurt him. Hurt him badly. I wrote him that final letter. It was so cold—telling him not to write me anymore. I just cut things off without any explanation. With no concern for how he might feel. I was a horrible, selfish person, and I’m sure he must hate me.” She rolled down her window, but the fresh air did nothing to soothe her. “I can’t do this.”
For a long moment, no one said a word. The SUV just bumped along a rutted gravel road between row after row of grapevines. There was no place wide enough to turn around and go back. No escape from this madness.
Finally Mike spoke up, but this time his tone was serious. “Maybe this is your chance to make things right with him, Brynna.”
“That’s a good point,” Jan said quietly.
“But what if he doesn’t want things made right?” Brynna countered. “What if this is all just a great big stupid mistake? Like the mistake I made with him thirty years ago. What if seeing me is awkward and painful and just plain weird for him? How can I just strut in and throw the past in his face like this? I am a horrible, selfish—”
“You need to chill out, Brynna.” Jan used her vice principal tone now. “You’re working yourself into a frenzy. Take a deep breath and calm down.”
“But I have no right to hunt him down like this, Jan. Like a stalker. Straight out of the blue—”
“Look, we’re just tourists out looking at vineyards,” Mike said firmly. “That’s all. If you should cross paths with an old friend, well, what’s wrong with that? You’ll say hello, how are you, goodbye. No big deal.”
“Yes, that’s right.” Jan shifted in her seat to face Brynna. “You’re blowing this all out of proportion.”
“Chances are this isn’t even the right vineyard,” Mike said lightly.
“Even if it is, he might not be here,” Jan added just as some buildings came into view. “You might not see him at all.”
“If it is Leroy’s place, it looks a little run-down,” Mike said. “Not near as fancy as the other wineries we’ve visited.”
Jan pointed to the parking area. “And there’s only a couple of cars here. They’re probably about to close up shop.”
“Yeah.” Mike started to slow down as they approached the other cars. “How ’bout we take a quick peek around and call it a day. No biggie.”
Brynna knew they were both just trying to placate her by downplaying it all ... and maybe they were right. For some reason it was hard to imagine the Leroy she’d briefly known so long ago could actually live here. It was too surreal.
“Sorrentino’s might not be as impressive as the other vineyards we visited”—Jan sounded like a schoolteacher now—“but it might just be older. The website says it’s having its 140th anniversary this summer. That would mean it began in the 1880s. Transcontinental railroads would barely have been running.”
As Jan continued her brief US history lesson, Brynna studied the two-story stone house on the knoll and the vineyard hills gently rolling away from it. Here and there were old oak trees and a variety of buildings of different sizes. She couldn’t dispute that the property did seem old and perhaps a bit in need of some attention, but it wasn’t unattractive. Not to her anyway. “I actually think it’s rather charming,” she admitted quietly.
Mike pulled into the roped-off parking area, which was actually just packed-down dirt next to a big red barn. He turned off the engine. “You gals ready for this?”
“I am,” Jan declared.
Brynna’s stomach twisted. “I’m not.”
“Now don’t you worry, Half Pint.” Mike opened the back door and waited for her to get out. “We got your back.”
“Hopefully Leroy won’t want to slip a knife into it,” she muttered.
Mike laughed. “No way. We won’t let that happen.”
“Come on.” Jan linked her arm into Brynna’s. “Pull on your big-girl pants and let’s do this. We won’t let Leroy hurt you.”
As Brynna walked, she felt deep inside of her that even if she were to see Leroy, he would not be rude to her. He just couldn’t be. Leroy was a true gentleman. At least, he used to be. Okay, she had no way of knowing what he was like now. People could change. She certainly had. Besides, he probably wasn’t even here. And yet, she had the distinct and unexplainable feeling gnawing inside of her that he was associated with this place.
Flanked by Jan and Mike and feeling like the proverbial sheep headed for the slaughter, Brynna approached the barn. Above the big double doors was a sign that read SORRENTINO’SOLD-WORLDTASTINGROOM. As they entered the dusky space, Brynna decided that she probably deserved to be scorned and despised by Leroy. And if he were truly here, she hoped that he’d just get it over with as quickly as possible. Then they could get out of here.
