The Other Boy (12 page)

“Cool.”

Maddy waited for a moment, but he didn’t go on.

“Cool? That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?”

“Yeah, well, it’ll be great to see you, but obviously it’s hard to get all worked up about a two-hour drive, followed by hanging out on a farm.”

“Well, I think it could be fun,” Maddy said quietly.

“Yeah, maybe. Anyway, what are you doing up there in No Man’s Land?”

“Oh, we had a good time today. We all went up to this lake that Fred knew about—Fred’s my dad’s business partner—and had a picnic, and David and I swam. It was beautiful. There was a little beach and a dock… .” She trailed off.

Brian laughed. “Wow, swimming in a lake. I guess that guy’s rubbing off on you, nature girl. What’s next, volunteering for Greenpeace?”

Maddy sat up in bed. “It was fun! Look, you’ll see when you come up here—it’s actually really gorgeous.

Wait until you see the room we’re fixing up—it looks so different than when we started. It’s all scrubbed and clean. We’re getting ready to paint it now.”

“You’re getting me all turned on talking about scrubbing and painting,” Brian scoffed. “I can’t handle it.”

“Stop. You don’t get it. I’m not just talking about the work. It’s just the whole
feel
of the place… .” She struggled to find the right words. “I mean, everyone’s so much more relaxed—like, today, we watched six deer meet in the yard. Do you see what I mean?”

“No. What do deer have to do with being relaxed?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” They were quiet for a minute.

Finally, Brian said, “Well, I think that’s Chad at the door.”

“Okay,” she said. She felt tired all of a sudden. “Do you want to come up on Saturday or not?”

“Of course I do. I’ll see you then, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Bye.”

“Bye, babe.” He hung up. Maddy clicked her phone off and fell back on the bed, stretching her legs up against the wall. She was irritated and didn’t know why. She really wanted Brian to understand, but for the first time he didn’t seem to get her. The vineyard was turning out to be different than she’d thought.

Maddy examined her tanned arms, which were starting to show muscle definition for the first time in her life.

She had never been outdoors so constantly and, honestly, it felt good. Being surrounded by the grapevines, trees, and flowers of Napa all day, every day, felt satisfying—like eating a really great meal. She was surprised at herself, too. David wasn’t the only one who hadn’t realized Madeline Sinclaire was more than a pampered city girl.

Maddy crooked her arm over her eyes and relaxed into the pillows.
Maybe Brian will understand once he actually gets up here,
she comforted herself. As she lay in the darkness, spinning pleasant images of her and Brian frol-icking in the stream at the bottom of the field, Maddy realized that the cricket on the porch had been singing his nightly song for a while now.
CHEEP, cheep,
CHEEP, cheep.
She hadn’t even noticed.

The interior of the gray pickup was hot, but David had both windows rolled down and music blasting when Maddy climbed onto the passenger seat at noon on Wednesday. “Hi,” he greeted her.

“Hi.” Maddy buckled her seat belt and rested her elbow on the edge of the open window. She noticed his eyes lingering on her hair.

“I like that … um—hairdo,” David said.

“Thanks,” Maddy said, hiding a smile. She had spent several extra minutes that morning pulling her hair into a high, elegant chignon that showed off her neck and bare shoulders. David passed her a crumpled scrap of paper.

“Here are the directions. I think it’s next to Jay’s Ice Cream.”

Maddy squinted at the smeary ballpoint pen scratch-ings. The tasting room had been scrubbed sparkling clean, so Maddy had convinced David that they should choose the furniture for it now, before they started painting. Even if they found the tables and chairs today, it would take a while for everything to be delivered. At first he had resisted, moaning that he
hated
shopping, but she’d won after pointing out that it was going to be pretty tough for the winery guests to relax in an empty room. So they were headed for the best furniture showroom in Napa. In honor of escaping to the nearest semi-large town, Maddy was wearing a lavender Marc Jacobs shift dress and silver hoop ear-rings. After weeks of shorts, jeans, and T-shirts, if felt good to be dressed up.

Maddy looked up from the directions, noticing what was pumping through the stereo speakers. “Is that
salsa
you have on?” she asked incredulously.

“Oh, um, yeah.” He glanced sideways at her and quickly turned it off.

“Wait, don’t,” she insisted. “I like it.”

“You do?” Now it was his turn to sound incredulous.

“Yeah. It’s good driving music.” There was a long pause, as if David was trying to figure out if she was serious or not. Finally, a big grin split his face.

“Okay.” He turned the stereo back on. “You’ve surprised me once more, Maddy-Mae,” he said.

Maddy bit her lower lip and smiled. “Left on Redbrick,” she murmured.

✦ ✦ ✦

David started fidgeting the moment they walked into the showroom. The interior was all sleek dark surfaces and cool polished marble. Sun filtered through the sky-lights, casting shadows on the tables, and there were chairs scattered in tasteful groups around the cavernous space.

“Okay, this was great,” David announced, turning back toward the big glass doors. “I’m glad we did this and—” Maddy grabbed his arm, trying not to laugh.

“Come on, I’m sure you can handle more than two minutes of shopping. Get a grip!” she instructed. “Here, I made a list of the things we’ll need.” She took it out of her Kooba bag.

“Four small round tables, sixteen chairs,” he read,

“four armchairs, two love seats, two low tables, one high narrow table—oh my God, I think I’m breaking out in hives.”

“Can I help you?” A bald man stood in front of them. He was slender and neat, with cuff links and pre-cisely pressed slacks. He wore geometric black-framed glasses and a skinny maroon tie.

“Yeah, thanks,” David said. He thrust the list at the man. “We’ll just take these things in, um …” He turned to Maddy. “Is brown okay?”

Maddy wrinkled her nose at him. “We’re not at In-N-Out Burger,” she teased. She turned to the salesman. “Would you mind showing us around a little?

We’re interested in clean, classic, elegant lines, nothing fussy. Also, I want everything to be comfortable—that’s important.”

The little man looked newly respectful. “Of course, ma’am. My name is Harrison. If you’ll come this way, I think you might be interested in the Verona line.” He led them toward a table and a grouping of chairs near the front.

“These are walnut, with maple inlay. They were featured in
Town & Country
last April. Are you and your husband looking to furnish your living room or dining room?”

Maddy widened her eyes at David behind Harrison’s back and mouthed, “Husband?” He winked back.

“Yes, these look great, Harrison,” he said. “My wife and I are furnishing both our living room and our dining room. We hardly have any furniture at all.”

“Ah,” Harrison chuckled gently. “Newlyweds?”

Maddy was trying to keep a hold of her giggles, but her face was flaming and her eyes were brimming with tears from the effort. She pretended to cough into her elbow. “Well,
dear
,” she said to David, “I’d like to look around a little, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, sweetie.” David’s eyes were sparkling mischievously. He draped an arm around Maddy’s shoulders and pulled her against him, ignoring the startled little squawk she let out. “What about this little ensemble?” He pointed to a sofa and easy chairs uphol-stered in prickly yellow silk.

Maddy shot a quick glance at Harrison, who was watching benevolently. She could practically read his mind:
What a nice young couple
. She tried to refocus her attention away from the sensation of David’s arm around her to the furniture. She cleared her throat. “I’m not sure that will go with our look,
Davey
. But this would be perfect.” She patted a sleek brown leather sofa and turned to Harrison, who was standing ready with a pad of paper and a pen. “We’ll take this.”

“Of course.” He made a note on his pad. “Will you be needing tables as well, Mrs… . ?”

“Uh, Sinclaire—ah,
Ms.
Sinclaire,” Maddy replied quickly. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see David grinning broadly. “I’m keeping my maiden name.” She tried for a convincingly nonchalant tone.

David snorted and she dug her elbow into his ribs.

Harrison trotted after them as they perused the rest of the store, selecting little tables, easy chairs, straight chairs, and one gorgeous long oak table to place against the wall. Maddy could just picture bottles crowding its surface, wineglasses lined up in sparkling rows, and big bowls of grapes at either end.

“Wow,” she said to David finally, “we’ve been here for over an hour and look—you still haven’t broken out in hives.” She held his muscular arm up to the light and pretended to examine his skin.

“I know—it’s practically a miracle. But now I have another serious medical problem.”

“What?” Maddy asked.

“I’m dying of starvation.” He clutched his stomach dramatically.

Maddy laughed. “Okay, you’re right. I think we have everything anyway. Let’s get out of here.”

Harrison rang them up and promised delivery in three weeks. He waved them out the door, looking extremely pleased. “He should,” David said when Maddy mentioned this. “We’re probably the best cus-tomers he’s had all summer.”

In the parking lot, they both slipped on sunglasses to fight against the blasting Napa sun. “So,” Maddy said, wiggling her shoulders against the pickup seat and cranking down her window. “Where should we eat?”

“Umm …” David thought as they cruised down the two-lane road. Puffy white clouds skated across the azure sky, and the scent of hot grasses blew in through the two open windows.

“Aaaoohhh!” Maddy suddenly yelled, sticking her head out the window. She dropped back into the passenger seat. “Sorry. I just had to do that for a second.

What a gorgeous day!”

“Nice Tarzan yell,” David complimented her. “I think the last time I heard one that good, my buddy Rich was doing a cannonball off some cliffs on the coast.”

“Thanks—wait!” Maddy suddenly shrieked, grabbing David’s arm. “Turn back, turn back!”

“What is it?” He did a U-turn in the middle of the road.

“Pull in there! That’s exactly what I want for lunch.”

She pointed to a little wooden shack by the side of the road. A giant barbecue cooker was sitting in the middle of the parking lot, smoke pouring from its opening.

Watched avidly by two dogs, an old guy in a stained white apron was poking the meat with a long metal fork.

David parked right next to a sign reading pork ribs: half rack $3, full rack $5 w/2 sides.

✦ ✦ ✦

Twenty minutes later, David heaved a long sigh as he gazed down at the heap of shining bones in front of him. “You were absolutely right,” he said, wiggling around until he was lying flat on the bench of the picnic table at the side of the parking lot. “That was the world’s best lunch. I’ve never had barbecue sauce that good.”

“Mmmff,” Maddy agreed, gnawing at a rib. Her fin-gers were sticky and she knew she probably had a smear of sauce on her face somewhere, but she didn’t care. All she felt was happiness—she’d had a great meal, a successful morning, and she could feel the warm sun as she reclined at this old picnic table with David. He suddenly popped back up.

“What is it with you?” he exclaimed, staring right at her.

“Do I have more sauce on my face?” Maddy asked, reaching for her napkin.

“I’m not talking about sauce,” he said. “I’m talking about you. You keep confusing the hell out of me. How many girls do you know who can go from picking out fancy furniture to eating pork in an old parking lot and be perfectly comfortable with both?”

Maddy shrugged. “I love ribs. Anyway, don’t you think this kind is a hundred times better than the stuff you get in most restaurants?”

“Yeah, of course I do. I just wasn’t expecting
you
to think that too.”

Maddy leaned forward and slurped her iced tea without picking up the Styrofoam cup. Her hands were still covered with sauce. “Actually,” she admitted, “I’m kind of surprised at me too. I mean, I really do love ribs. But you’re right. It usually wouldn’t occur to me to just pull over somewhere like we did. I don’t know what it is—the place looked good and I just
felt
like it, ya know?”

David was staring at her thoughtfully. “Yeah,” he said, piling their trash up in the middle of the table. “I feel the same way—it must be something in the air up here.”

Whatever it is,
Maddy thought, scrubbing at her hands with a napkin,
I like it.

I’m so glad Dad agreed to go with the cream color,”

Maddy said, keeping her eyes on the strip she was carefully painting by the door. “Can you believe he actually wanted
maroon
?”

“If you want total honesty,” David replied, “I thought maroon would be fine, but now that we’ve started, I can see what you mean. The maroon would’ve been really dark.”

“Right. When you have a small space, even with these high ceilings, you want to open it up with a light color.”

They had been painting most of the morning. The tasting room was explosively hot, and the breeze through the open double doors didn’t help much.

Maddy had been combating the problem by occasionally dunking a bandanna in water and then tying it around her head. She felt like she had already sweated off about two pounds in water weight.

A trickle of sweat ran past her forehead, stinging her eye. She straightened up carefully and tried to wipe it away with her forearm, since that was one of the only parts of her body not sprinkled with paint. She cast a surreptitious glance at David. He had taken off his shirt long ago, pointing out that it wasn’t very comfortable wearing a piece of sweat-soaked cotton all day in ninety-five-degree heat. His tanned back was smooth and muscular above the waist of his baggy shorts. He was carefully painting the walls with a long roller. As a result, a gentle shower of paint had covered his curls, face, arms, and shoulders. He looked like he’d been dusted with powdered sugar.