Season of Change(64)

                “Thank you.” Slade helped Takata stand.

                “It’s what family does, prodding you forward, giving advice even if you don’t want it.”

                Slade didn’t comment. They weren’t family. They were just neighbors.

                But Takata, in typical Takata style, seemed to read his mind. “For people like us, who are otherwise alone in the world, your friends become your family.”

                A few years ago, Slade would have denied the old man any claim to him. But he couldn’t, since his words rang true. Will and Flynn were like brothers to him.

                With Takata’s statement still ringing in his ears, Slade couldn’t stop staring at Christine laughing with his daughters, and wondering if she’d still be his friend if she knew the truth.

                * * *

                “TELL ME YOU convinced Slade to build the wine cave,” Flynn said to Christine as they turned in their bowling shoes.

                He was so earnest, Christine chuckled. “I have other things I’d rather spend your money on right now.”

                “I hear this wine cave will create jobs.” Will, the third partner, extended his hand to shake Christine’s. “I didn’t get a chance to welcome you properly. Or throw in my support to build whatever you need.”

                Carte blanche. It was every winemaker’s dream.

                Slade stood at the corner of the shoe counter, frowning.

                “I’m sure a wine cave would need a custodian or a groundskeeper,” Flynn was saying.

                “Maintenance man,” Will added.

                Christine’s toes should have felt as light as air. She should be dancing.

                Slade’s frown deepened.

                “Receptionist.” Flynn was on a roll.

                “Tech support.” Will wasn’t far behind.

                Balls struck pins. Someone hooted. A pinball machine played a techno tune.

                And Slade? He turned away, gathered up the girls, and made for the door.

                Christine knew it was financially irresponsible to sink too much money into a winery in the middle of nowhere. She knew, but the feeling of power was a rush all the same.

                * * *

                CHRISTINE’S NEXT WEEK was filled with phone calls, emails, visiting suppliers, deliveries, and workers installing various items, including desks on the second floor. The skunk smell was finally eradicated. Two skunks were trapped and removed, with a promise to relocate them to a state park many miles away, since they seemed rabies-free. The signs for the driveway and tasting room were put in place. They were, of course, very grand and sophisticated—Harmony Valley Vineyards with their logo, a horse on a weathervane. Mayor Larry, who was busy knitting and tie-dying samples, stopped by to compliment Christine on them.

                Most of their equipment to crush the wine and put it in barrels was either on-site or on-order. Her biggest concern remained finding a company willing to book them for harvest. Secondarily, they still hadn’t received their bottling permits from the government, although they wouldn’t be ready to bottle until sometime next year.

                With Slade’s approval, she hired a young assistant winemaker who’d apprenticed with a small winemaker in nearby Healdsburg the year before, had returned to UC Davis to finish up his enology degree, and was looking for a permanent position that started immediately.