Page 29 of Love in the Time of Conversation Hearts

The Secret Cottage is far and away my favorite spot at Alcott Family Winery. What was once Lauren’s grandparents’ home is now a speakeasy-style tasting room tucked away in a wooded area of the estate. The façade is every fairytale lover’s dream, with gray stone forming the humble house and a chimney exhaling large puffs of smoke into the equally gray sky. February is taking its reputation around here seriously, keeping the world–and this tiny abode–blanketed in white.

Inside, a large hearth is the primary heating source for the otherwise drafty house. It dominates the living space where various tables have been scattered about with enough seating for maybe twelve people total. Through an archway, a bar has been built where the kitchen once stood. There, a handful more guests can gather to have an intimate tasting experience with one of the best bartenders on property, Mabel.

Mabel went to school with Dorothy, and when she’s not busy with a group like she is now, she makes it her personal mission to unload any and all gossip she has from their days as schoolgirls. And where Dorothy is concerned, there is a lot to gossip about.

The other server, a twenty-something named Storm who squints when he talks, places a glass of cabernet in front of me, and a riesling in the adjacent spot, which Harrison grabs before Storm has fully released it. He takes a sip as I nod my appreciation to our waiter, then quickly shift to shooting daggers from my eyes the moment Storm can no longer see me or my brother.

“You act like you were raised with no manners.”

He huffs a laugh into his wine. “Believe me, I remember every bit of the etiquette lesson you gave me in eighth grade.”

“Oh yeah? So where does the salad fork go?”

His glass clinks against the hardwood table as he sets it down and raises a brow at me. “Left side of the plate, furthest from the center.”

“Huh, you are good.” I take a sip of the cab and savor its fruity tang. It’s by far the best one they’ve put out in the decade I’ve been drinking it, which makes me feel old for both knowing that and also having been able to legally drink for that long. “What about condoms? When do we wear them?”

Harrison’s cheeks flush red, even deeper than the cold outside had left them. “Jesus, Cora.”

I shrug, the material of my olive green Anorak jacket swishing. “Manners and etiquette apply to all areas of life.”

“Maybe so, but I’d rather not talk about those areas with you,” he chuffs. “It was bad enough that Mom and Dad let you give me the sex talk.”

“Rest assured, mine was much better than theirs, which consisted of ‘Don’t do it.’ End of story.”

He pulls his glasses off and breathes on the lenses before wiping at it with the corner of the cloth napkin. “Sounds about right.”

“Speaking of dating…” I kick his foot under the table. “Any prospects?”

He finishes cleaning his glasses and replaces them. His dark gaze is guarded when it returns to mine. “Why do I get the sense that you brought me here for some type of intervention?”

I laugh because he’s right. We are here for an intervention, though he’s wrong about who it’s for. Turns out after my first day back to work, which was spent hyper-analyzing every interaction with Adam, I needed a debrief with my best friend. But I’d already promised myself I’d spend this afternoon with Harrison, if nothing more than because seeing him sulk on the couch every evening while reruns of Friends flicker across his face is starting to depress me. So here we are, sipping our wine and waiting for Lauren.

And what kind of sister would I be if I didn’t take the perfect opportunity to pry when presented to me?

“Oh? Do you have something that needs intervening?”

Harrison sighs heavily. He plucks his wine from the tabletop and leans back in his chair, swirling the glass in a lackluster motion. It suddenly strikes me how much older he looks, now sporting a wrinkle between his brows and parentheticals that bracket his mouth from too many hours spent frowning at his computer screen. He pushes his shaggy hair back, but it falls lazily over his forehead again within seconds.

“I know it hasn’t been easy on you, having me move in all of a sudden and impede on your space. I promise I’m looking for a place. Rent here is just so expensive and… I guess I’m not really ready for an empty house yet, if I’m honest.” His gaze flickers to me, suddenly so woefully bereft that it steals my breath. “I haven’t lived alone in years, Cora.”

While it’s true that having him in the house has cramped my style in some ways, it’s never been a burden. I lean forward, bracing my elbows on the table, hoping he can read the honesty in my expression. “You stay as long as you like. I’m happy to have you around again. You were gone for too long. I missed my baby brother.”

“Your baby brother who’s thirty.” He chuckles, and it loosens his expression, that tense wariness seeping out of his angular features. It’s hard to believe sometimes that my cherub-cheeked, snot-nosed brother is still in there. We looked a lot more alike back then, before he lost all his softness to age. “Thank you, though. It means a lot.”

I offer a close-lipped smile and my glass, which I hold over the leather-bound wine menu in the center of the table. He meets it with his own, a toast that briefly draws the attention of the only other patrons in the living area, a couple who look to be in their fifties. When they look away again, I wink at Harrison. “To my big baby brother. For knowing just how to get out of talking about his dating life.”

“Ugh, he’s got you winking now?” Charlie appears over Harrison’s shoulder, shifting a box of wine to her other hip as she shakes her head at me disdainfully. “One good dicking and our mayor has broken you.”

Harrison takes a long pull from his glass and grimaces. “Please, can we refrain from discussing my sister’s dickings? Good or bad.”

“No can do, since that’s why you’re here in the first place.” Lauren’s voice drifts in from the foyer, followed by the harsh slam of the sticky door. If you don’t kick it shut, it’ll never seal out the cold. I glance behind me just as she’s shucking her outer layers to reveal a navy blue sweater that nearly perfectly matches her eyes. She shrugs at my brother before turning her attention to me and pursing her lips. “Sorry I’m late. Had to field another of my parents’ crazy ideas. Something about a pumpkin spice wine for this fall. I swear, they’re getting experimental in their old age, and I don’t love it.”

Chair legs screech against the wooden floorboards as Charlie drags up two additional seats to our table. “Next stop, upside down pineapples.”

Harrison’s brow crumples in confusion while Lauren pins Charlie with a glare. Meanwhile, a disgusted shudder courses through me. “Don’t even whisper that in the universe’s ear,” I grumble.

“What do pineapples have to do with anything?” my brother asks.