“Work can be demanding and draining.” He paused, a faraway look in his eyes. “But if you’re lucky, it’ll fill the empty spaces until you don’t miss being in a relationship.”
Christine, who had only started yearning to fill empty spaces since she’d arrived in Harmony Valley—drat Nana and her need for great-grandchildren—was surprised by Slade’s comment. “It’s all right to give yourself over to your work to build a career, but give up on getting married and having a family? I can’t agree with you there. You want to get married again someday, don’t you?”
The wavelength they’d shared snapped, as certainly as Slade’s features hardened.
He never did answer her question.
* * *
BRAD ALEXANDER ROSE before dawn, chased sleep away with a double shot of espresso, and powered through his call list, regardless of the current hour.
Jolted awake by the ring of her cell phone, Christine answered with a muttered, “Somebody better be dead.”
“I’m quitting my job.”
“Dad.” She sat up in bed. “Why?” Harvest was fast approaching.
“These owners just don’t get it, honey. They’ve scheduled harvest early because a crew gave them a deep discount.” The outrage in his voice was palpable. “I don’t care how hot it is outside this week. What if the grapes aren’t ready six weeks from now?”
“Can’t you talk to them? Maybe if you and their winemaker combined forces they’d see reason.”
“I wouldn’t waste my breath.” There was a sound in the background. An unpleasantly familiar sound of muffled sobs.
Christine could hardly bring herself to ask, “What’s that noise?”
Her father lowered his voice. “Your mother. She isn’t happy with me.”
And just like that, Christine was a child again, sitting at the dinner table, chicken burning on the stove, her mother’s face pale as her father told them he’d quit another job. Christine and her brother frozen in place, afraid to speak, afraid to move, afraid Mom would start crying.
Now it was Christine who lowered her voice. “Dad, you should go back and try to work something out. It’s not too late.”
“I thought you, of all people, would understand.” He hung up.
Christine waited for her breath to calm, her ability to speak to return. She needed to be strong for her mother. But when she called the house, and then her mother’s cell phone, Mom didn’t answer. No one did.
* * *
SLADE WAS LEARNING that part of the joy of being Faith’s and Grace’s father was seeing what they chose to wear each day.
Today’s fashion choice? Country chic.
Matching overalls, the length of shorts. Matching pink-and-white checkered blouses. Matching pink sneakers. Their black hair in pigtails at the base of each ear.
The good news was that they hardly smelled of skunk when he greeted them by sniffing their hair. Score one for Dad.
The bad news was that they didn’t come down talking a mile a minute like morning deejays. Dad had a long way to go.