Christmas in Wine Country (9 page)

             
“You left this in the store.” He reached out his hand to give her her mocha. Silently, she reached out and took it from him.

             
“It’s raining,” he said, looking at her as he took a sip of his coffee. “But I guess we’re lucky it’s not raining men.” After only the slightest raised eyebrow, he turned his back and headed for his car. Lila stood, mouth agape, shocked into standing stock still
and simply watching him walk away in his long black coat at his infuriatingly slow-and-steady pace.   

*
             
*
             
*

Lila reported for duty ten minutes early.

Marion greeted her with a look at the clock overhead and a nod of approval. “Early. I like that.” She came forward, offering her hand rather formally. Lila shook it shyly, wishing her good morning. “Lots to do. And no time like the present,” Marion declared in a crisp British accent. “Godfrey?” she called. A slender, pale lad who looked to be in his early twenties emerged soundlessly from the shadows of the store. All in black, he clicked his heels and gave Lila a quick, stiff bow.

Should she curtsy? Lila hesitantly held her hand to her chest and gave a mixture of a nod, throat clear and smile. “Hi, I’m Lila.”

“Godfrey. At your service.” He was gone in an instant, as silently as he’d arrived.

Looking after him, Marion sighed. “Yes. Godfrey.” Looking over at Lila, she added, “he maintains our web presence.” Lila recalled—with newfound understanding—that Marion had explained she needed to hire another employee who could be more customer facing. “He’s our blogger,” Marion continued. “And Tweeter. And Facebook…” she trailed off, clearly out of her depth in the social media realm. “But internet sales are a significant and growing share of our profits. So.”

As Marion oriented her to the store, Lila was relieved to find it just as delicious as she’d remembered. Gleaming wood, local hiking and cooking sections. A sizeable children’s book nook with a train table and low benches. Twinkly white lights still adorned the window along with a big thank you drawn by kids who’d received books as Christmas presents from the store’s customers.

It didn’t take long for Marion to whack the elephant in the room with a big stick. “Most independent bookstores are going out of business,” she said. Awesome, Lila thought, bracing herself for already being given two weeks notice. Instead, Marion turned to Lila for emphasis and continued, “But we’re staying afloat. And I’ll tell you why. We’re not trying to be Amazon. We’re personalized. We’re local. We’re what this area’s all about. Wine, relaxing, local food, the outdoors. That’s why people still come here—tourists, weekenders, we’re part of the local charm. And the locals like keeping the town afloat.”

Marion explained that people stopped into Cover to Cover for fun. They were not doing research. They were not on assignment. Buyers at the store were either 1) locals shopping for a gift, 2) locals looking for something to do with their kids or 3) tourists doing either of those two activities or a third: browsing. The visiting browsers offered the most potential, Marion explained. Part of Lila’s job was to make sure she was well versed in the types of books they favored.

“So, I’ll need to do lots of reading?” Lila asked.

“Oh yes. Mysteries and cook books and travel writing. The kinds of things people want to read on vacation. That way you can make informed recommendations when you’re asked, ‘What’s good?’”

Lila nodded, smiling. Oh, how she’d waited for the day when she was told that she absolutely had to read lots of fun books.

After a brief lunch back in the stockroom—she’d brought a supermarket salad just in case—Marion launched Lila into a highly intricate system for organizing and displaying books designed to showcase exactly what vacationing patrons would find of greatest interest. Lila had nearly lived in Colgate’s library during college, but all her time in the stacks hadn’t prepared her for Marion. 

As Lila examined the section for travel writing, not to be confused with the section for biographical travel memoirs, Godfrey resurfaced, lurking nearby. Lila decided he couldn’t weigh much more than 110 pounds. No heavyweight herself, Godfrey made her feel like a mob guy about to shake someone down.

Abruptly he disappeared, only to appear once again at her side this time with his iPad. “Watch,” he said conspiratorially, picking it up and blowing into its side. It made a reedy, woodwind sound.

“Oh.” Lila good-naturedly nodded and smiled without knowing what exactly to do.

Leaning in, he whispered, “It’s an ap,” before ducking away.

“OK,” Lila said, scratching her head. A mixture of amused and bewildered, she wondered if Godfrey was typical of the type of person she’d now be meeting in Redwood Cove. Also, would that be good or bad?

*
             
*
             
*

Pulling an apron over her head, Lila got herself settled at the countertop next to Annie. In the back of the chocolate shop where Annie worked, there was much chopping to be done. Apparently preparing handmade chocolates had everything to do with chopping—anything from dried fruits to nuts to lavender. When Lila had stopped by after her shift had ended, she’d been put right to work.

The shop was only five doors down from the bookstore; it had taken all but a minute to pop down after finishing her first shift at her new job. At 5:30pm it was already pitch dark outside, but the back of the store was lit warmly. It had the feeling of Santa’s workshop. 

“And so,” Annie asked, expectantly, pulling on an apron patterned with large purple cows. “How was the first day?”

“Really…not that bad,” Lila reflected. “I mean, it’s too soon to completely declare victory, but…”

“First days are always exhausting” Annie said. “The fact that you let me put you right to work afterwards is a good sign.”

“I agree.” She’d taken in a lot of new information that day, but had the sensation of getting suited up for an engaging battle rather than forcing herself through each dreary second sitting at her desk. Rubbing her tired head she added, “Just don’t ask me to put anything away into any sort of categories or sections. My brain’s fried from trying to learn Marion’s system for the store. Apparently Dewey Decimal is too disorganized for her.”

Annie laughed. “I love Marion. She’s like a big, gay Julie Andrews.”

Lila stopped her chopping and tried to conjure up the image. Marion had the close, cropped haircut and the British accent, but she seemed far too focused and businesslike to twirl around on a mountaintop singing about hills being alive.

“Not the fresh-faced nun/governess Julie Andrews,” Annie continued, somehow seeing Lila’s mental image. “I’m talking Mary Poppins. Shape up the bratty kids. Or when she was a queen in that movie with the girl with the big eyebrows? It was set in San Francisco.”

“Right,” nodded Lila, seeing it. “Where she has to train the princess on etiquette.”
             
“Exactly. All business.”

“Got it.”

Outside, rain pelted the window panes and Lila felt grateful to be so snug and warm. Annie’s profile was lit warmly as she deftly maneuvered a large chef’s pastry tube to fill oval moulds with dark chocolate. A luscious aroma of vanilla, hazelnut and
chocolate filled the air and Lila knew she would happily follow it into a candy house in the forest, even after having read Hansel and Gretel.

“How do you like Godfrey?” Annie asked.

“Godfrey’s… nice.” 

“He’s very pale.”

“Like a vampire.” Speaking as quite a pale person herself, Lila felt she could comment with authority on the subject. Whereas she had the tendency to flush easily with exertion or embarrassment, however, she bet Godfrey maintained his pallor.

“So all in all, you’re not panicking?” Annie asked, looking over at Lila. “Not regretting your big move?”

“No. I’m disoriented.” She paused, trying to find the right words. “A lot’s gone on in the past month.” Unexpectedly, she found herself brimming with tears, recalling standing in Phillip’s office feeling as if she’d been swiftly and sharply punched in the gut as he’d dispassionately told her “Axelle and I are ready to take things to the next level.” All that yearning and planning and dreaming. She’d very nearly convinced herself that if she gave it enough effort, got skinny enough and fashionable enough and stayed cool and calm enough to give him his space he’d eventually come running to her. Instead, he’d cozied up with that French spreadsheet. What made Lila sickest of all was that, deep down, she knew they made a much better couple. City chic Phillip with his narrow,
steel-rimmed glasses and armless chairs would click perfectly with that confident, effortlessly glamorous, connected, cosmopolitan, Parisian…

“Hey!” Annie snapped her fingers in front of Lila’s glazed eyes. “No mooning in here! This is a place of chocolate. Show it proper respect.” Lila looked up and gave her a half-hearted smile. “I know, you’re supposed to need time to get over him, or whatever, but it seems like such a waste when he was such an ass!”

“You didn’t know him!” Lila protested.

“Really? You’re defending him?” Annie asked and Lila looked down again at her chopping block. “Anyway, I’m not trying to get into it with you. I just hate to see you spiraling down into a self-loathing pit over some idiot—”

“I get it, Annie.” Lila put her hand up and admitted, “You know me well.”

“I do.”

A bell jingled as the front door of the shop opened and a lithe, graceful woman about their age with long strawberry-blonde hair carelessly pinned to the top of her head glided back into kitchen.

“You’ll never guess what just happened,” she announced as she slid onto a stool and shrugged out of what looked like a vintage mod 1960s coat. Fitted at the top, it ended in an above-the-knee A-line swing. Lila noticed berry pink polished nails sparkling on her feet, bare in flip flops for the 40something degree evening. 

“This is Zoe,” Annie explained. “And this is my college roommate, Lila. She’s just moved here.” 

“I’m so happy for you!” Zoe exclaimed as she grabbed her own left wrist with her right hand and gave her arm an impressive overhead stretch. “You are going to find it so rejuvenating. So, get this,” she continued, repeating the stretch on the opposite side. “I’m at the front desk. Everyone’s coming in for the four o’clock class.”

“She works at the yoga studio over a block,” Annie explained.

“It’s fabulous,” Zoe assured Lila. “Super energy. The best teachers.” Laughing with a hand to her chest, she added, “I mean, I guess I’m biased.”

“She teaches over there,” Annie once again supplied the back story.

“And consult
s
,” Zoe added. “I have a new client. This sweet fifty-something guy who just had back surgery. He and his wife are only up on weekends, but he wants to do all he can while he’s here.”

Lila was already getting used to the culture of the town, which seemed to have a blend of locals and weekenders familiar to her from growing up on the Cape. So far she hadn’t detected too much friction, however. Annie’s explanation was that there were three kinds of rich people who vacationed in wine country. The ones who wanted Tuscan-style McMansions and opportunities to rub shoulders with the elite headed to Napa. The ones who wanted to play farmer and pay a local to help grow their own organic garden and keep chickens headed to Sonoma. The ones who really wanted to
stay off the radar and blend in made it all the way down to the bottom corner of Sonoma County to Redwood Cove.

Lila enjoyed the rhythm of chopping while Zoe regaled them with the story of what amounted to a yoga studio dust-up. Somehow, Lipton had made its way into the selection of complimentary teas, rubbing shoulders with organic greens and herbals. Vegan, homegrown Zoe couldn’t have been more horrified herself, but as the representation of the corporate entity that had caused the offence she’d been subjected to quite a tongue lashing. 

Happily accepting a cup of sipping chocolate that Annie offered, Lila let Zoe take over the chopping duties. She sat back on a stool with her new favorite drink. Thick and rich and decadent, conversation slipped to the background while Lila devoted every sense to her small cup. This was the kind of beverage you had to close your eyes to fully appreciate. She’d relentlessly banned sweets for so long now that she wondered if she was about to lose it like an alcoholic falling off the wagon. Annie would arrive at the store tomorrow morning and turn on the lights to find finding Lila guiltily bathing in a big vat of sipping chocolate.

“Liking that?” Annie teased, waking Lila from her reverie.

“What time is it?” Zoe hopped off the stool. “I just had a sec to stop by.” Pulling on her coat once again, she turned to Lila. “Almost forgot. I adored that clip of you on YouTube. It was fantastic! I can’t wait to see you
at
Ted’s. They have karaoke every Thursday.” And with that, she was out.

Stunned, Lila looked to Annie. With a sympathetic shrug, Annie said, “It’s a small town.”

“What, so everyone’s seen my YouTube video?” Amazing how quickly she could go from reclining into sipping chocolate bliss to standing at shrill attention with anxiety.

“Pretty much.” Somehow Annie maintained her nonchalance even as she delivered the crushing news. “I mean, you have to understand, it happened at Endicott which has long reach. Everyone in town knows someone who knows someone who has something to do with Endicott. They’re a supplier, or they’re doing some work on the buildings. Plus Big Bob’s been on this kick lately, buying small businesses. Like this woman, Mary, only has a couple acres, but she grows the best lavender. Anyway, she ran into some financial trouble so Big Bob stepped in—”