Authors: Jane Porter
I
work through the next few weeks of the hot summer, putting in significant hours at the office so I can see Dad at the end of the month.
I return again mid-August for the weekend, and Diana tells me she’s bought tickets for a concert on the lawn Labor Day weekend and is hoping I can come back up and go with her. I hadn’t planned on returning so soon but Dad offers to cover the ticket for me, saying it’d be nice to see me again, especially if I can join him “and the boys” for brunch. Dad hasn’t bought me a ticket to any place since I was an undergrad at UW. I promise to come back up.
Labor Day weekend is really fun. I arrive Saturday morning and help Diana and Carolyn decorate the poles of a huge wedding tent with garlands of fresh flowers, and then meet Dad for lunch before joining Diana for the outdoor concert and picnic on the winery lawn.
I see Craig from afar with a group of people that includes his brother Chad. It looks like a couples event, with everyone paired up, and Craig’s date is a petite redhead. I find myself watching him—them—and I’m curious. Okay, envious.
I’d like to be the one with him. I’d like it to be me that he leans in to, and me that he listens to, and me that he smiles at.
I’d like to be the girl that makes him laugh.
I’d like to be the girl he kisses.
Wait. I was the girl he kissed. And he did it really, really well.
I turn away then, not wanting to risk seeing him lean in for the kiss. I’m not curious anymore. I’m just plain jealous.
Resolutely I face forward and smile fiercely, determined to look happy. I’m going to have a good time if it kills me.
It’s killing me.
“What’s wrong?” Diana asks.
“Nothing.” And then I slap the blanket. “No. Yes. Craig. He’s here. He’s on a date. With an itty-bitty redhead.”
Diana wrinkles her nose. “I saw. I hoped you wouldn’t see. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s not as if we had anything.”
Well, we kind of did.
I focus hard on the music for several minutes. I tell myself to savor it, and take it all in. After all, it’s one of Edie’s German boys, Beethoven.
And then, I don’t know what happens. I don’t know if it’s the music or the warm balmy night, so much like that June night in Berlin, but I get to my feet and march across the lawn to the big plaid blankets where Craig and Chad and their friends are.
Chad sees me first. “Hello, Dr. McAdams.”
Craig tilts his head back and looks up at me. He rises and steps around the others to kiss my cheek. “Didn’t know you were here this weekend.”
“Diana invited me.”
He gestures to the group on the blanket. “You know Chad. Have you met his wife Meg, yet? And these are Meg’s sisters—Kit and Kit’s husband Jude, and Kit’s fraternal twin, Brianna Brennan.”
I say hello and shake hands all the while thinking—he’s either on a date with Brianna, or they are both there as singles—but I’m
not going to return to Diana without seizing the moment to ask Craig, “Feel like having brunch with me and eight or nine old men tomorrow morning?”
“I couldn’t imagine anything more enjoyable.”
My cheeks hurt from smiling. “Eleven work for you?”
“Perfect.”
“Great. I’ll see you then.”
• • •
B
runch is good. Dad is delighted to see Craig and after the meal Craig goes with me to visit with Ruth, who is sure I’m her granddaughter and Craig is my husband.
I let Ruth hug me and hold my hand. It makes her happy, and I think it would make Edie happy, too.
Then Craig needs to go, as there’s a private event at the winery this afternoon and he’s promised to be on hand, since Chad is spending the weekend with his in-laws.
Monday morning I pack and go for a last run. I travel my favorite route down Poppy Lane, cutting down the dirt road, running past the farm with the horses and up the hill.
I don’t cry as I run. I crest the hill and stand there, taking in the view.
It’s beautiful and pastoral and calm.
I’m peaceful.
Content. Or at least, far more content.
I’ve been lonely this summer in Scottsdale, but I’m not lonely when I visit Napa. I feel as if I’ve got my own little community here. Friends. Family. One day maybe I could live here, too.
I jog down the hill, and stop to talk to the horses who come to the fence to see me. The white horse tosses his head, flicks his tail, and whinnies. I stroke his nose and then continue jogging along the path, dirt clouding around my ankles with every step.
The heat brings out the smell of the oak trees and tall, dry grass. Back on Poppy Lane I slow to a walk, my hands on my hips. I breathe in deep, great gulps of air. How far I’ve come in the past few months. The worst of the guilt and anguish is gone. I still think of Andrew, and feel sadness and regret, but most of all, I feel love.
I did love him. Dearly. And I will always love him. Just as I love Mom. And Edie.
I reach the first farmhouse, the one with the picket fence. The roses bloom, but today they’re not the star. They’re just part of a summer garden that’s rioting with color.
Dahlias, zinnias, and lilies. Pinks and corals, reds, blues, crimson, purple. A sunny yellow dahlia with spidery blossoms peeks through the burgundy and orange dahlias and I smile at it. So bright, so insistent.
Beautiful.
I don’t even realize I’ve said the word out loud until a straw hat rises from behind the picket fence and a woman smiles at me. “Dahlias are such show-offs, aren’t they?” she says.
I can suddenly hear Edie’s voice in my head.
Dahlias are such show-offs.
I nod, and smile, fighting tears. Good tears. Happy tears.
“I love your garden,” I tell the woman.
“Thank you.” She draws off a glove and stretches her hand across the fence. “I’m Lulu London. And you’re the woman living at 33 Poppy Lane?”
I start to answer that it’s my dad’s house and I just stay there when I visit him, but for some reason I can’t say it. Instead I nod, and shake her hand. “I’m Alison McAdams.”
“You’re Dr. McAdams’ daughter, the dentist.”
“Yes.”
Lulu smiles. “So nice to meet you after all this time, and I’m
so glad you’re living here now. Your father’s so much happier when you’re around.”
“You know Dad?”
“I’m George’s daughter. He’s at Napa Estates, too, and is a friend of your father’s.”
We chat for another moment and then say good-bye. And as I walk the rest of the way home, I keep seeing Lulu’s smile beneath her straw hat.
I see the dahlias.
I hear Edie’s voice.
They’re such show-offs, aren’t they?
And suddenly I know I want to live here. I’m ready to move here. I’m ready to call Napa home.
There is no reason I can’t look for a dental practice up here. There has to be something, somewhere, even if part-time.
I wouldn’t mind part-time, because then I could still work a couple days a week at Bloom.
Or I could just spend my free time with Dad, watching golf with him on the TV and learning to play a really mean game of bridge.
Dad would be happy.
Maybe Craig would even take some bridge lessons with me. It’d be fun to spend more time with him. Get to know him slowly, properly.
Maybe even have a real date now and then, or another dinner date where we’d sit outside in his garden beneath the strings of lights, and drink wine and talk quietly while Bruiser snores at our feet. I really like Bruiser.
And Craig.
It could work.
And even if it doesn’t, it’s okay. I’m going to be okay. In fact, I’m okay right now. Maybe even better than okay.
I smile, slowly, realizing it’s working out already. I’m good.
Life is
good.
It’s
You
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