“Then have a glass of wine.” Judith held up a bottle of one of his best cabernets. “We want to continue celebrating your birthday.”
“I donotwant a glass of wine,” he said, keeping his tone firm. “I am here to say that, although we have appreciated your help here, Judith and Mara and Cassie, it’s time to call it a day.”
“Dad!” Gina looked shocked.
“I’m sorry,” he continued, ignoring his daughter’s incredulity, “but it’s time for this party to end. I hope you enjoyed your visit. But it is officially over tomorrow morning.” He locked eyes with Gina. “It’s time to get focused on the vineyard and the work here.There’s no room for guests. Not even working ones.” Without giving them a chance to respond, he turned on his heel and marched off. He had no doubts they’d think him an old ogre. A rude and ungrateful beast. That was fine. As long as his houseguests left.
As he walked through his quiet house, he wondered what it would be like to have it all back to himself again. Well, himself and Gina. Although she probably wouldn’t be speaking to him for a while after this, but that was okay. He didn’t want to speak to anyone right now. Maybe he could just give up speaking altogether.
He went out the front door and headed down the porch. Without inviting Babe to join him, even though she peered up with sad brown eyes, he got inside his Jeep and started the engine. As he sped off, he planned to drive to the top of the vineyard, where he’d get out and walk and walk and walk. It would be too much for his old dog to keep up. He would allow the earth and the vines to calm him, like they always did. The problem was that after almost an hour of walking up and down the rows, he felt no better. And as the sun dipped below the western hills, he wondered if he’d ever feel better.
How could he have been so stupid? Didn’t someone say the best way to predict the future was to pay attention to the past? Brynna had hurt him once, and now she’d done it again. And he’d stupidly allowed it. Practically invited it! Why hadn’t he known better? Gina had tried to warn him. But he didn’t even listen to his own daughter. Well, he’d gotten exactly what he deserved.
He wanted to pray, to beg God to help him through this pain, but the words refused to come. Instead, he looked up at the sunset colors streaking across the dusky sky and let out the loud howl of a wounded lone wolf. Then, feeling foolish, he just shook his head and slowly walked back to the Jeep. Happy birthday, Leroy.
Chapter 32
In the morning, Brynna borrowed Jan’s SUV to drive over to Sophie’s, but halfway there, her cell phone rang. Not recognizing the number, but seeing it was local, she pulled over to answer. To her surprise it was Leroy’s mother, Dorothy Sorrentino.
“I realize we haven’t had a chance to get acquainted,” the older woman began, “but I would very much like to speak to you.”
Brynna braced herself. Was Leroy’s mother about to read her the riot act for hurting her son? It wouldn’t be surprising, but how could Dorothy possibly know?
“I don’t like talking on the phone,” she continued, “so I’m hoping you can come over here and have coffee with me.”
“I, uh, I guess I could do that.” Everything in Brynna wanted to decline this strange invitation, but out of respect for Dorothy’s age, and the fact that she was Leroy’s mother, she agreed. Dorothy gave Brynna directions to the neighboring vineyard, where she said she lived with her daughter, Sherry, and before long Brynna was sitting out on the terrace with her, pretending to sip her espresso while imagining how to make a graceful exit.
“I’ve heard through the grapevine”—Dorothy’s blue eyes twinkled with amusement—“Isn’t that an appropriate saying here in vineyard country? But it’s true. I did hear something by way of others. My daughter, Sherry, heard it through Gina that you are leaving us.”
Brynna set down her coffee cup. “That’s right.”
“May I ask why?”
Brynna wanted to ask her why she wanted to know but suspected that would sound rude. “Because it’s for the best, Mrs. Sorrentino. For everyone.”
“Please, call me Dorothy.”
Brynna nodded.
“Why do you say it’s for the best, Brynna? That is your real name, is it not? Although I’ve heard Sophie call you Bree.”
Brynna explained that both were right. “My dad used to call me Bree.”
“Oh. So back to my question. Why do you believe that leaving is for the best?”
Brynna frowned. “How much do you know about me?”
Dorothy’s pale brows arched. “More than you’d expect.” She quickly delivered a fairly detailed but condensed bio of Brynna. “My son and I talk. Did I get it mostly right?”
“Yes.” Brynna sighed.
“Let me cut to the chase. Do you love my son?”
Brynna blinked.
“Please, answer my question.”
“Can we keep this between you and me?”
