The Other Boy (2 page)

Once the three of them were alone, Maddy’s mother slowly walked into the room and sat down on the leather sofa. With a cry, she jumped back up, soaked from the pool of beer on the cushion. Her father’s face was purple. Her mother gingerly perched on a sofa arm. Not looking at Maddy, she muttered, “We forgot the Vineyard Association paperwork.”

Ah
. Maddy righted an upturned chair and slowly sat down. She buried her face in her hands. She wasn’t quite sure which was worse—the guilt she felt looking at her mother’s face, or the regret that she was probably in the biggest trouble of her entire life. Her parents were silent, obviously waiting for an explanation—but really, what could she say? She should at least
try
to dig herself out of this, though. “Guys,” she began, “I’m really sorry—”

“Sorry!” her father exploded. “What are you talking about? We leave this house for five hours, after spending a month going over the summer rules. All we want is to get a box of files and what do we find? A hundred drunken teenagers trashing our house!”

“Daddy—”

“And who is responsible for this? Who? Our daughter, who assured us that she would take care of everything this summer! ‘Don’t worry, Dad,’ you said. ‘I’ll be just fine.’

Well, this doesn’t look like ‘just fine’ to me, Madeline!”

Maddy took a deep breath. “Look, Dad, just let me explain.”

“Explain what, Maddy?” Mom said. Maddy’s stomach sank all the way to her ballet flats. “This situation seems perfectly clear to me. We trusted you. You broke that trust.”

Maddy had a horrible feeling she knew what was next. She desperately tried to head it off with a pitiful stream of babbling.

“I’m so sorry, guys! I promise, promise, promise it will never happen again—ever! It was going to be my only party, I swear, just a little reward after school, before senior year, to celebrate summer. I—I—” She searched around for something,
anything,
to appease them. “I won’t even stay here this summer! I’ll go live with Morgan—Mrs. Gainsley is incredibly strict.”

“No,” her dad said firmly. “You are going to spend the rest of the evening cleaning up this house, and then in the morning, you’re going to Napa with us. So get started.” The calmness in his voice sounded terrifyingly final.

Maddy let out her breath. “Okay, Dad,” she said in a barely controlled voice. “I understand that I screwed up and that I should go to Napa for a while to help you guys out as my punishment. But how long are we talking about? A week?” She had to stop to control the tremor in her voice. “Two weeks? I’ll help you clean and mow or whatever… .” She broke off. Both of her parents were staring at her.

“Maddy,” Mom said.

“What?”

“Your father isn’t talking about a short visit. You’ll be helping out at the vineyard for the
rest of the summer
.”

Clunk.
As silence fell over the room like a dead weight, Maddy’s visions of the beach, Brian, and freedom floated out into the now-foggy San Francisco night.

“The
entire summer
… ?” she croaked.

Her dad skewered her with a stare. He spoke as if Maddy were someone of severely limited intelligence.

“Do … you … truly … think … you’re … staying …

here … after … all … this?” Maddy swallowed.

Debbie Sinclaire got up from the sofa and went into the kitchen. “This discussion is finished,” she shot over her shoulder. There was a pause. Then an eruption.

“Madeline Sinclaire! Can you please explain why the
hell
there is bean dip all over this ceiling?”

Maddy watched her dad stiffly walk onto the deck.

He stood illuminated by tiki torches with his hands on his hips, staring at a lawn chair floating upside down in the pool. As Maddy stood to walk to the kitchen, she saw her father’s shoulders slump as he slid his head into his hands. And she felt the best summer ever slip right through her fingers.

Ow!” Weighed down by two huge duffel bags and dragging a giant suitcase behind her, Maddy stumbled as she stubbed her toe on the edge of the door frame. She managed to squeeze the bags through the door and wrangle them down the steps.

The morning was fresh and dewy, with puffy white clouds skating overhead in the deep azure sky, but it might as well have been sleeting as Maddy crammed her stuff into the trunk of the Lexus RX hybrid.
Good-bye
beach, bye shopping, bye sleeping until noon, bye hanging out
with Morgan and Kirsten. And mostly, bye Brian
. She had texted him that she was being kidnapped.
Rescue me!
she had typed, without much hope.

“Maddy! Did you remember your hiking boots?” her mother’s voice called from the house. The woman had no right to be this perky at seven a.m. “The terrain is pretty rocky up there!” Her mom sounded like she was relishing the thought.

“I did, Mom!” Maddy sang out through gritted teeth.

“Well, we’re leaving in just a minute. Dad’s just checking the air-conditioning one more time.”

Suddenly, Maddy heard a car engine behind her. She whirled around to see Brian stepping down from his yellow Nissan XTerra.

“Hey, babe,” Brian cooed. He was still wearing his clothes from the party, and his hair was all matted on one side, sticking up on the other. She could see sleep sand in the corner of one eye as he bent to kiss her forehead.

“You look awful,” she noted. “Have you been home yet?”

He scrubbed at the side of his face with his hand.

“No, I crashed on Chad’s couch. I can’t believe I’m awake this early. But I couldn’t let you leave without saying good-bye.” He leaned down to kiss her just as the front door slammed. Maddy clutched at Brian.

“Don’t let them take me!” she whispered. “I am going to absolutely die up there.”

He kissed her forehead again. “I’ll call you every night.” The garage door opened and Brian looked up.

“I’d better go.”

Maddy watched forlornly as he backed down the driveway and floored the accelerator. As he sped away, an arm appeared out of the driver’s window and flapped a few times. She lifted her own hand in response and kept it up until the car had disappeared around the corner.

“Okay!” Mom came out of the house. She seemed to have recovered her good humor now that they were almost on their way back to Napa. “Got all your stuff in the car?” she asked Maddy.

“Yep.”

Dad bustled up and slapped his hands together.

“Everyone go to the bathroom?”

Oh. My. God. Was the entire summer going to be like this? She looked up at the sky, hoping to fight the overwhelming feeling that her world was shrinking beyond recognition. She climbed into the backseat and buckled her seat belt, planting her sneakered feet firmly on a box of dishes. “Let’s just go already, okay?”

Her parents exchanged a classic our-teenage-daughter-is-such-a-pain-in-the-you-know-what glance.
Good,
Maddy thought.
We’re all on the same page. I think you guys are a
pain in the ass too
. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the leather seat back. She could hear a double
bam-bam
as her parents got in and shut their doors. Maybe she could just sleep the whole way.

Peaceful silence filled the car as her dad wound through the streets full of Spanish-style and Victorian mansions and then bumped over the railroad tracks.

He drove through a Hispanic neighborhood, where the bodegas and shops selling
quinceañera
dresses were crowded together with skinny brownstones. The brownstones gradually gave way to warehouses and car dealer-ships. They turned onto the highway. The soft hum of the engine and the comforting voices of NPR hosts filtered into the backseat. Maddy drifted away, her head lolling on her shoulder.

“Madeline.” Her father’s voice jerked her awake.

“Huh?” A trickle of drool had reached her chin. She wiped at it furiously.

Her mom twisted around to face the backseat.

“Daddy and I want to talk to you about this summer.”

Maddy groaned.

Her dad went on. “We’re going to need you to pitch in and do some work on the vineyard grounds. You’re starting at zero on the responsibility scale. This vineyard is very important to your mother and me, so we expect you to take this seriously.”

“Umm?” Maddy tuned them out when her purse

started buzzing. She slid her BlackBerry Curve out of her Kooba bag. chat request from morgan. She held it down by her side and pressed start conversation.

how r u?

awful, of course—what do u expect? Maddy typed without looking at the keys.

k and i miss u already! at orchids 4 brunch.

Maddy’s stomach rumbled at the thought. Orchids had absolutely the best strawberry waffles in the city.

thanks for that. i’m probably heading off to eat gruel all summer.

going to the beach later—it’ll be so weird without u.

i know. all i want is to hang out with you guys, sleep in, and see brian. but i’m going to be slave labor for the next two months.

poor girl! maybe k & i can come rescue you!

that would be so great. i don’t think u could get past the prison guards tho.

k & i will be thinking of you. xoxo!!

Maddy pressed end conversation, heaved a gusty sigh, and stared out the window at miles and miles of pine trees; rocky, sandy soil; and distant, bluish hills.

They passed a vegetable stand with a sign in the front that read tomatoes $1/lb.

Of course, Maddy had seen pictures of Napa and its acres of twisty grapevines wrapping around the hills and spreading across the valley floor. But even though the vineyards were less than two hours from the city, Maddy had never actually seen one before. She leaned a little closer to the window. The land was completely covered in vines, stretching as far as she could see. Low stone walls lined the two-lane road. Hand-lettered signs reading wine tasting today and north ridge winery flashed by. Occasionally, they passed a palatial gate with the name of the vineyard spelled out in iron letters at the top. Past these gates were long, groomed gravel driveways lined with towering trees.

Maddy settled back into her seat, comfortably wiggling her shoulders into the cushy leather as she pictured a massive stone villa, surrounded by acres of manicured lawn. She’d be clad in a clingy black dress, pouring wine for a clutch of sophisticated vineyard visitors. “This is our newest blend, a merlot-burgundy,” she imagined herself explaining. “It has very strong legs.” Everyone nodded, impressed with her knowledge, and sipped delicately from their long-stemmed glasses.
Maybe this won’t
be so bad after all,
she thought as she dozed off.

Here we are!” Her dad’s voice was offensively cheerful.

Mom was rummaging around in her handbag, muttering something about the keys.

Maddy leaned forward eagerly as the car turned onto a long, rocky hillside. Twisted pine trees were around them. She rolled down the window and inhaled a deep breath of the fresh mountain air. It did smell good out here.

The car slowed down and turned through an opening in a crooked wooden fence that looked about a hundred years old. An enthusiastic profusion of morning glories and wisteria vines draped over the top rails.

Maddy squinted at a little wooden sign hanging crookedly next to the driveway: ironstone winery.

“Our front entrance,” her dad announced grandly.

Maddy’s vision of the lush vineyard with romantic stone buildings and polished tile floors began to crack.

Everyone hung on to their door handles as her dad swerved to avoid the gaping holes along the bumpy driveway. Maddy tried to focus on the looming pine trees surrounding them.

“Whoa!” Bob slammed on the brakes.

“Oh my God,” Maddy said, squinting through the windshield from the backseat. “Is that a
pig
?”

Mom sighed. “Mr. Jenkins next door keeps them, and sometimes they get out. I believe that one is named Jasper.” The enormous white pig meandered around the middle of the driveway. Bob blew the horn, which the pig haughtily ignored.

Mom opened her car door. “Let’s see if he’ll just walk off with a little urging. We can call Mr. Jenkins when we get to the house.” Gingerly, she stepped toward the pig and put her hand in her pocket. She drew something out and flung it into the bushes by the side of the road.

Jasper lifted his huge head, snorted, and lumbered off toward the object.

“What was that?” Maddy asked as Mom got back in the car.

“Oh, nothing.” Her voice was airy. “I had some cheese crackers in my pocket.”

“Wow. Now can we please drive up to the house?”

Maddy shook her head, trying to reconcile the sophisticated Mom she knew, who never left the house without her Chanel lipstick, with a woman who kept pig bait in her pocket.

Leaving Jasper happily eating his processed cheese, the SUV passed through the little grove and rounded one more turn. Maddy’s father pulled up to a clearing in the grass. “Welcome to Ironstone Vineyard,” he announced.

“First tasting will be held in the wine room in”—he looked at his watch—“approximately two months.”

Maddy stared at the structure in front of her. It was more a cottage than an actual house, and it looked like it belonged in an English fairy tale, not Northern California. Ivy covered the white clapboard sides, climbing to the slate roof. Curtains fluttered from the open windows upstairs, and a porch with elaborate wooden railings, scrolls, and gingerbread carving spread across the length of the house. The place was sitting in the middle of a giant, overgrown flower garden, where rose-bushes competed with hollyhocks for the most sunshine.
Who lives here?
Maddy wondered.
Elves?

Her parents practically leaped from the car as Maddy extracted herself from the backseat. The only sounds were of her parents rummaging around at the back of the car, the wind moving through the tops of the trees like the ocean hitting the shore, and a mockingbird singing madly on a branch over her head. The air was dry and cool in the shade, but when she stepped into the sunshine, she could feel its heat on her bare arms. She fished in her bag for her oversize Dior sunglasses. A mosquito whined in her ear. She swatted at it and slapped another one on her leg. Perfect.