Shirley, Goodness and Mercy(3)

She’d been his sweetheart, his lover, during college—until he’d broken it off. No, abandoned her. That was a more honest description of what he’d done. The years had numbed his guilt, and he rarely thought of her anymore. Funny how a relationship that had ended more than thirty-five years ago could suddenly rise up to haunt him. He’d been a senior the last time he’d seen Catherine. They’d been madly in love. Then she’d told him she was pregnant and Greg had panicked. About to graduate, about to start his life, he’d done what had seemed sensible at the time; he’d fled.

Unable to face her, he’d written Catherine a letter and told her he was leaving. She should do whatever she wanted about the baby. It’d been cowardly of him, but he was just a kid back then; he’d long since stopped berating himself over it. He’d never heard from her again. He didn’t know what she’d done about the baby. Didn’t want to know. Abortions hadn’t been legal at the time, but there were ways of getting rid of an unwanted pregnancy even then. His mother hadn’t ever learned why his relationship with Catherine had ended, but Phil knew. That was the beginning of the estrangement between Greg and his brother.

Almost without realizing it, Greg began to move up the church steps. He blamed it on the throng of shoppers crowding in around him. All he wanted was a few moments of peace and quiet. A chance to think.

He hesitated on the top step. He didn’t belong in a church, not the way he’d lived. And yet…

His life was empty and he was old enough to recognize that. But at sixty, it was a bit late. For most of his adult life, he’d followed the path of least resistance, put his own interests above those of other people. He’d believed that was the basis of prosperity, of success. Deserting Catherine was where it had started.

She’d been the first of his regrets. Matthias was the second. And then his mother…

Matthias Jamison was his father’s cousin and an employee at the winery. Greg’s parents had divorced when he was in high school, and he and Phil had spent summers with their father at the vineyard. Although the younger of the two, Greg was the one who’d been drawn to the family business. He’d spent hour after hour there, learning everything he could about wine and wine making.

Ten years his senior, Matthias had taken Greg under his wing. What John Bennett didn’t teach Greg about wine making, Matthias did. His father had also insisted Greg get a business degree, and he’d been right. Several years later, when he died, Greg bought out Phil’s half to become sole owner and worked with Matthias operating the winery.

The wine had always been good. What the business needed was an aggressive advertising campaign. People couldn’t order the Bennett label if they’d never heard of it. The difficulty with Greg’s ideas was the huge financial investment they demanded. Commissioning sophisticated full-page ads and placing them in upscale food magazines, attending wine expositions throughout the world—it had all cost money. He’d taken a gamble, which was just starting to pay off when Matthias came to him, needing a loan.

Mary, Matthias’s wife of many years, had developed a rare form of blood cancer. The experimental drug that might save her life wasn’t covered by their health insurance. The cost of the medication was threatening to bankrupt Matthias; his savings were gone and no bank would lend him money. He’d asked Greg for help. After everything the older man had done for him and for his family, Greg knew he owed Matthias that and more.

The decision had been agonizing. Bennett Wines was just beginning to gain recognition; sales had doubled and tripled. But Greg’s plans were bigger than that. He’d wanted to help Matthias, but there was no guarantee the treatment would be effective. So he’d turned Matthias down. Mary had died a few months later, when conventional treatments failed, and a bitter Matthias had left Bennett Wines and moved to Washington state.

Generally Greg didn’t encourage friendships. He tended to believe that friends took advantage of you, that they resented your success. It was every man for himself, in Greg’s view. Still, Matthias had been the best friend he’d ever had. Because of what happened, the two men hadn’t spoken in fifteen years.

Greg could have used Matthias’s expertise in dealing with the blight that had struck his vines, but he was too proud to give him the opportunity to slam the door in his face. To refuse him the way he’d refused Matthias all those years ago.

No, Greg definitely wasn’t church material. Whatever had possessed him to think he should go into this place, seek solace here, he couldn’t fathom.