Page 66 of The Sweetness of Life

The table falls silent, all three of us staring at Zach. Reaching for his glass, he takes a swallow, clears his throat, and smiles at me. “Well, good luck then.”

Why does him wishing me good luck feel more like he’s saying goodbye? And why does this leave this me feeling oddly unsettled? This would be a huge step toward my dream job, one no one is getting in the way of.

Plastering on my fakest smile, I tell him thanks and turn to Michelle. “What about you? What dreams do you have?”

Taking a deep breath, she glances over to Zach, to Kyle, and then back to me.

“Well, since Zach took over, I’ve learned a lot more about the wines and what it takes to make them. I don’t see myself ever leaving the area, and I love it here, so I’d like to become a winemaker. I’ve found different colleges and organizations that offer online classes in enology and viticulture, and I’m registered to start in the fall.”

Zach sits up straight and pulls his hand from the glass to his lap. “Michelle, that’s fantastic,” he praises, making her visibly relax. Not only is it easy to see how much she wants his approval and support, it’s also easy to see he’s genuinely pleased and proud of her. “I didn’t know that was something you wanted to do.”

“I like it here, and I want to be more than just the girl who pours wine,” she says earnestly.

Leaning forward, Zach puts his elbows on the table. “Come talk to me on Monday, once this magazine project is over. We can brainstorm about a career path for you and how I can help.”

“I’d appreciate that a lot. Thank you.” She reaches for her wine glass to try to hide her enthusiasm, but she’s so happy she’s glowing.

“Wait!” Kyle waves his hands in the air. “You once told me you dreamed of living somewhere different, moving to a big city.” Whereas Zach is excited by Michelle’s confession, Kyle is clearly confused.

“Yeah, I do have that dream, but doesn’t everyone?” She looks to me for confirmation, and I shrug.

“I’d love to live in a big city: New York, Seattle, or even Chicago.” I’ve always said this. Doesn’t mean I will, but cities are amazing.

“See,” she says, challenging him.

“But . . .” He pinches his lips and looks around the table at the three of us before slouching back in his chair and running his hand through his hair.

“But what?” she asks.

He lets out a deep sigh and lifts his eyes to hers.

“All this time . . .” He shakes his head, and the two of them share a moment filled with a heaviness of misunderstanding and missed opportunity.

Time stalls as Zach watches them and I watch Zach, who has a small, satisfied smile on his face. Seems I was right—he suspected their hidden interest in each other, too.

Lifting my wine glass, I take a sip. Kyle sees the movement and lets out a deep breath.

“I think . . .” He looks at each of us before directing the rest of his statement to Michelle. “We need to go.” Abruptly, he stands and reaches for her hand to pull her with him. “Thank you, Shelby, for dinner. It was delicious.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you guys enjoyed it.”

Michelle gives me a small wave and an apologetic smile over her shoulder as she scrambles to keep up with Kyle. Without another word, they head out the side gate and disappear into the night.

Chicken and “Dumplins”

ONCE AGAIN, SHELBY outdid herself. I would never tell my mother this, but Shelby’s food is some of the best I’ve ever eaten, and that banana pudding pie—wow. I don’t even think she realizes how good her food is.

“Thank you for helping me clean up,” she says, loading the last of the dishes in the dishwasher.

“Of course. You cook, I clean. That was my mother’s rule, and it kind of stuck.” I shut off the faucet and wipe my hands dry.

She smiles appreciatively and then holds up another bottle. “Do you want some more?”

“Sure.” I grab two new glasses and watch as she pulls the cork and pours the wine before we move to the couch. I wait for her to sit first, and after she’s tucked into the corner by the armrest, I take a seat right next to her. After pulling her feet onto my lap, I unfasten the tiny buckle on the cork heels she likes so much. Her shoes drop to the floor, she wiggles her toes, and she groans as I begin massaging the cramps out of them.

“Have you been wearing these all day?” There are strap lines indented in her skin.

“Yep. Before I saw you at the manor this morning, I ran to the grocery store to get a few things I needed for dinner. All I did was change clothes before everyone got here.”