The Vineyard (32 page)

Simon got the message. “I won't hurt them.”

“What'll you do when they get big?”

“I don't know. I'll figure something out.”

“Would you just let them loose in the woods?”

“No. They need a home.” He stood. “I'm thirsty. Does anyone want anything?”

Tess must have found his last answer acceptable because she asked, “What do you have?”

He pictured the inside of his refrigerator. It wasn't exactly stocked for kids. “O.J. T.J. Water.”

“No Coke?”

“No Coke.”

“No Little Bunches?”

“Sorry.”

“How can you do what you do and not have Little Bunches?”

“Tess,” Olivia chided. “That's rude.”

But Simon said, “She has a point. It's just that I'm not used to having kids in here. You're the first one.”

Tess's brows went higher than her glasses.
“Ever?”

“Ever.”

“Where did your daughter live?”

“Tess,”
Olivia whispered.

“We all lived in another house,” he said, wondering what the chances were of Tess leaving it at that. When it came to curiosity, she had the same overabundance as her mother, which was probably why Olivia was quiet now. Two of them couldn't chatter at once. Unless it was something else, like Olivia being tired. Or feeling awkward. Maybe she wasn't a night person.

She was good in the morning. He knew that.

“Don't you even have
wine?”
the child asked.

Relieved that she hadn't homed in on Liana, he smiled. “Not for you.” He looked at Olivia. In the dim light, he could have sworn she was startled. “What?”

She stared at him for a minute, then shook her head and looked at the basket again.

“Would you like wine?”

“Water, please.”

“I want O.J.,” Tess said. “But not if it has pulp. I hate pulp.”

“Hates pulp,” he murmured, going to the galley kitchen at the end of the living room. He poured a glass of water and was in the process of pouring orange juice through a strainer when Olivia came up beside him.

“You don't need to do that,” she said. Her voice was gentle.

He shook the strainer to let the juice through. “She hates pulp.”

“She could have done without. Seeing Buck having kittens is treat enough. She's not budging from that basket.”

He put the strainer into the sink and turned to Olivia. Her head just reached his shoulders. Her hair was a dozen different shades of dirty blonde. It actually looked natural.

“Something startled you before,” he said.

She shot him the briefest glance and shrugged.

“What was it?”

She shrugged again. “You smiled. It changed your face.”

He could have sworn she was suddenly shy, then decided it was just that she seemed mellow. The night would cause that.

“Thank you for coming to get us,” she said, and turned so that
she was leaning against the counter, looking out. “This is a nice place.”

He leaned against the counter beside her. “It's small. I couldn't see building a place that echoed.”

“No chance of that with all these books. I've never seen so many. I'll bet there are none on raising kittens.”

“Give me three days.” He handed her the water and said quietly enough so that Tess wouldn't hear, “I haven't seen you in a while.”

She took a drink. “I've been sleeping later.”

“Deliberately?”

“I work at night. Sometimes pretty late.” She studied the rim of her glass. Finally, she raised her eyes to meet his. Her face was bare in every sense. “I don't know how to deal with this. It's not why I'm in Asquonset.”

Her honesty did something to his insides. “It was just a kiss.”

She arched a brow and shot a look at his pants. “Sure felt like it could've been more.”

And it did again. Just like that. One look caused a telltale rush of blood. Embarrassed, he bent his knee and put the sole of his foot against the cabinet door. So much for mellowness.

“The thing is,” she whispered, looking out at the room again, “I meant what I said. I'm here for the summer, then I'm gone. This place … this vineyard … it's just an oasis for me.”

“Bad analogy. With all this rain, it's more like a mud hole.”

She looked up at him in concern. “Is there a chance the crop will be ruined?”

“There's always a chance. But it doesn't happen often. More likely, the wine is just better or worse.”

Tess ran in, eyes wide. “She's having another one. That's
five
. Can you imagine having five babies?”

“Not me,” Simon said.

Olivia sputtered out a laugh, but Tess was suddenly staring at him. “Why are you wearing glasses?”

“I've been wearing them all night.”

“What do you do during the day? Do you wear contacts?”

“Yes.”

“I'm getting contacts, but I have to wait until my eyes stop changing. When did you get yours?”

“When I was fourteen,” he said and handed her the juice.

“I can't wait
that
long.” She peered into the glass.

“No pulp,” he assured her before she could ask. “The pulp went down the drain.”

“Oh. Good.” Holding the glass in her left hand, she did something with her right that might have been a wave, and set off.

Olivia's voice followed her. “Tess?”

“I
signed
it,” Tess called.

“Ah,” Olivia said and told Simon, “Sandy's grandson is deaf. I'm not sure she's doing that sign right, but the thought is there. Thank you for the juice.”

Simon wandered into the living room and looked at Tess in the hall. He tried to picture Liana in her place, watching Buck have kittens, getting a drink, remembering a thank-you. “We were just beginning to get into that. You know, manners and all.” He started to gesture Olivia into a chair, then realized she might want to watch Buck. Shifting the gesture, he pointed a thumb in that direction and raised his brows.

She shook her head and slipped into a deep, overstuffed easy chair. Moving herself all the way back, she pushed off her sneakers and folded up her legs. She looked about sixteen.

“Does it bother you having Tess here?” she asked.

He looked at Tess and the baskets in the hall, then looked behind him. Pushing the book aside, he sat on the edge of the sofa and considered the question. Did it bother him having Tess in his house? It hadn't been a premeditated thing. He hadn't anticipated bringing either of them here. But Buck had given him a golden opportunity, so here they were.

Did it bother him? He would have thought that it would. He had deliberately not invited Olivia in last time. This was his private place. There was no room here for women and children.

Funny, though. Olivia and Tess weren't just women and children. They weren't … generic. They were … Olivia and Tess, each with her own personality and looks. They were totally different from his wife and daughter.

“Or shouldn't I have asked?” Olivia said.

“No, it doesn't bother me having her here. I could try to imagine Liana at Tess's age, but the fact is that when I see her in my mind, she's the six-year-old she was when she died. She'll always be that. Tess is a different species—and I don't mean that in a negative
way. I mean it timewise. She's older. She's more verbal. She's street-smart.”

“Is that a euphemism for ‘mouthy'?” Olivia asked with a half smile.

“She's that sometimes, but from what you say, there's good reason. Is she doing any better?”

Olivia nodded, but she didn't look convinced. “Sandy is great. Tess is starting to get the knack of the method she's teaching. It'd be neat if I could get her into a private school that specializes in it. We applied to one in Cambridge”—she dropped her voice to a whisper—“but they just sent me a letter saying that they don't have room, and I haven't had the courage to tell her.”

“Does she have her heart set on the place?” he whispered back.

“She has her heart set on
not
going back to the school she was at. I've applied to several more, but we may not know until the last minute. It's nerve-racking.”

“Has she made any friends here?”

“None who call on the phone. That's the big indicator, in case you didn't know.”

Oh, he knew. “Some things never change. Who's calling
you?”

“Me?”

He hadn't planned on asking, but there it was. “I was at the office the other day when a guy called. Anne Marie was having trouble convincing him you weren't here.”

Olivia grunted. “That would've been Ted. He swears he isn't calling, but there's no one else it could be. We dated in Cambridge. He's still interested. I'm not.”

“Why not?”

“He's too uptight. He makes problems where none exist. I can't deal with that. I have enough
real
problems. Beside, he's up there in the city thinking that I'm lounging around down here at the shore eating grapes. If only …” she said with a tired sigh and laid her head against the back of the chair. “Natalie's book was supposed to be at the compilation stage by the first of August. She wanted her family to have it before the wedding, but she didn't count on having so many distractions.”

“She's a busy lady.”

“Well, I'm learning that. I suppose I should be grateful. I was worried I wouldn't be able to keep up. I'm not the fastest writer.”

“But you are keeping up.”

She smiled then—and if his smile had startled her, hers did the same to him. It was hopeful and bright. It was happy. It was
contagious
. She was proud of herself, but without ego.

“I'm keeping up. Actually, I'm dying for more. Her story fascinates me. The question is whether it will fascinate Susanne and Greg. More to the point, the question is whether they'll read it.”

“I think they will. They're not bad eggs.”

“If that's true,” she said, doubt clear in her voice, “where are they? Why haven't they been here? It's summer, and it's gorgeous. If this was my family place, I'd have a standing reservation for a room here.” She lowered her voice. “Speaking of rooms, you knocked on the right door tonight. You knew which one was mine.”

“No mystery there,” he said, wanting to nip suspicion in the bud. He didn't want her thinking that he was dwelling on
her
. “Natalie always puts guests in the wing, so I knew you were there. You watch me from a window seat. Only one of those rooms has a window seat.”

“So, who's in the main house?” Olivia asked without missing a beat, as though the main house had been her interest all along. “Natalie has one room. Jill has another. I assume the third room is for Susanne and her husband. What's behind the closed door?”

Simon wasn't sure how he felt playing second fiddle to a closed door. He did know what was there, but it was Natalie's job to tell Olivia. “Mementos. Trophies. Old books and stuff.”

“Where's Brad?”

“Brother Brad?” he asked.

“Son Brad. He's the only one who hasn't called. Natalie says that he won't. I take it there was a mega-falling-out. That's so hard for someone like me to swallow. I'd give anything for family. These people have it, and throw it away. Why don't they want anything to do with Asquonset? Or is it just the wedding?”

“This summer, it's the wedding.”

“But it's such an
incredible
love story. Do you know … has Carl told you … ?”

“That they were childhood sweethearts? Yes.”

“Did you always know?”

“No. He loved my mother. He treated her well. He worked with Natalie, but he always came home to my mother.”

Olivia grew pensive. “And he loved her.”

“Yes.”

“Then you think it's possible to love two women at once?”

“He loved them in different ways.”

Olivia's face grew pensive as she thought about what he had said. He watched her as she leaned forward and hugged her knees. Finally she sat back, looking not at all eager to leave, though it was nearly two in the morning. She seemed content.

Simon found that fact gratifying. It said that he had been right in bringing them here. It was all well and good to build a house free of women and children, but some things were meant to be shared. Buck's babies were one. The quiet of the night was another.

Then it struck him that it might be a little
too
quiet. Frowning, he sat forward and looked down the hall. Tess had her head on the rim of the basket.

“Is she all right?” he asked.

Olivia smiled. “She's probably asleep. Usually is, when she's quiet this long.”

Indeed, Tess was asleep. She came awake but barely when Olivia touched her shoulder. Olivia had started to scoop her up, as though she intended to carry her back to the house, when Simon took over.

“You get the flashlight,” he whispered, slipping his arms under the child.

It was drizzling outside. Thinking first of his grapes, he swore softly.

“Should we drive?” Olivia asked, misinterpreting his displeasure.

“No. It's just as fast to walk, and she doesn't weigh much. This kind of rain won't saturate the trees for a while, so we'll be dry.” He strode toward the path, pausing at its start to let Olivia go ahead. “The forecast said it would do this, but I'd been hoping we would be spared.”

“It isn't cold or windy.”

“Cold we don't need. Wind we do, as long as it's gentle. A gentle wind helps dry the grapes. Otherwise the dampness just sits.”

The rain fell softly on the leaves high overhead, but they didn't feel the dampness themselves until they left the cover of the trees and made a dash for the house. Simon held Tess closer, shielding her
body as he ran. When they were under the patio awning, he carefully transferred her to Olivia and opened the door.