“That means a lot, Nick. Though for a bighearted person, I haven’t even asked howyou’redoing.”
“Miserable. I still can’t believe it’s true. It hit me thismorning that my mom won’t be there for my wedding. But Hannah and I will get through it. We have to.”
I can barely meet his eyes, but I nod. “I’m sure you will.”
“Hey, is Gabe around? I was hoping to grab a few minutes with him.”
“He and Henry are walking the dogs, but they should be back before long. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Uh, no, I can drop by later, I guess.” He scrunches his handsome face, clearly deliberating. “Thereisone thing that maybe I could ask you, though.”
“Shoot. Anything, Nick.”
“Is Gabe pissed at me?”
“Pissedat you?” I say, caught off guard. “Of course not. What reason could he possibly have?”
“You heard about how my father turned him and Marcus down for money?”
It clicks. Ash had justified his choice by saying that he’d already been generous to Gabe and Marcus and now it was Nick’s turn, and Nick clearly feels guilty.
“I’m sure Gabe doesn’t fault you for that. It was your dad’s decision, after all.”
He drops his eyes to the ground, kicks at a stone with his Top-Sider. “Yeah, Dad’s decision—partly,” he says looking back at me. “But apparently mostly my mom’s. She was the one who told Dad that it wasn’t fair to me, and I needed a turn.”
I stare at him, hiding my confusion. Gabe hadn’t mentioned that his mother had been part of the decision-making process related to the wine business. To my knowledge, in fact, she’d never been involved before. “How do you know this?”
“Marcus told me that Dad admitted it at their meeting, after Gabe and Marcus prodded. You hadn’t heard?”
I shake my head.
“Gabe probably didn’t want to throw my mom under the bus. Can you act surprised when he brings it up? I’m sure he will at some point.”
“Okay,” I say, still reeling a bit. I can’t believe Claire would have stopped Ash from helping Gabe and Marcus, simply because it violated some previously unknown protocol she’d established about how much they should support each son financially.
“And I’ll talk to him when we get a chance,” he says. “I just feel so bad that this happened right before she died.”
“I’m sure Gabe put it all into perspective,” I say.
Nick looks stricken. “No, he was upset with her, Marcus told me. Really upset. He didn’t know why she’d do something like that.”
For a moment, I can’t even think how to respond. Is this what Gabe was about to tell me as we sat on the bench outside the cottage? It must be eating at him, the idea that his mother died while he was so angry with her.
“Um, well, yes, do talk to him about it, Nick. He’ll be around later.”
He hugs me again then takes off down the path at a sprint. I give him a minute to put a little distance between us and then start off for the house myself, noticing how warm the day’s gotten. It must be in the mideighties by now.
I enter the house through the kitchen. Jake’s alone in there, scooping tuna salad onto slices of bread.
“Hi again,” I say. “Is Bonnie around?”
“She ran upstairs to make the beds.”
“Okay, I’ll futz around here until she gets back.”
He returns to his task and I begin the one I came for. Though the kitchen has always been Bonnie and Claire’s domain, I’ve never felt it was off-limits to me. I swing the fridge door open, but there’s no iced tea on any of the shelves. I proceed to a cabinet at the far end of the kitchen and scan the inside. No jug there, either. Okay, it’s got to be someplace else in the room. I’m pivoting on my heels when Bonnie enters the room, clearly a little winded.
“You need something, hon?” she asks.
