Chương 4
“She did believe that.”
“Then the video will look less—”
“Ugly?”
Diane glanced toward the office door. “She was frightened.”
“She grabbed me.”
“For three seconds.”
“Would five have changed your mind?”
“That isn’t fair.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Diane’s jaw tightened. “You have never understood how threatening your silence can be.”
Lila almost laughed. “That is a remarkable thing to say to the daughter you stopped calling.”
“I stopped calling because every conversation became an audit.”
“Did you pay the electric bill? Did Savannah get home? Did Eleanor take her medication? Did Dad sign the form? Those audits?”
“You kept score.”
“I kept the lights on.”
“And you made sure everyone knew it.”
The office door opened.
Grandma Eleanor stood there with one hand on the frame and no cane. She must have left it by the desk.
“Enough,” she said.
Diane turned. “Mom, you should sit.”
“I have been sitting. It didn’t improve any of you.”
“Please come home with me.”
“No.”
“You can’t stay here.”
“I can stay where I please.”
“You left your purse at the ceremony. Your medication is in it.”
“I take one blood pressure pill in the morning. It is now evening.”
Diane’s expression shifted. She had used the medication as leverage and been caught.
Eleanor saw it. “Don’t make me helpless because I embarrassed you.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“It is exactly what you’re doing.”
Lila looked from one to the other. “I’ll take you home.”
Both women answered at once.
“No,” Diane said.
“No,” Eleanor said.
Lila closed her eyes briefly. “Excellent. We remain a family.”
Eleanor went back into the office.
Diane lowered her voice. “She cannot stay with you.”
“Why?”
“Because it will look like you manipulated her.”
“To whom?”
“Everyone.”
“Everyone is eating sea bass downstairs.”
“Online.”
Lila stared at her mother. “You’re worried about comments.”
“I’m worried about what Savannah’s life looks like tomorrow. I’m worried about Caleb. I’m worried about Eleanor. I’m worried about this business. I am trying to think beyond the next five minutes.”
“You’re worried about the story.”
“Yes,” Diane said. “Because stories become facts when enough people repeat them.”
For once, Lila had no quick answer.
Diane continued. “If Eleanor goes home with you tonight, Savannah will say you planned this. Caleb’s family may believe her. People online already do. And if you release only the gate footage—”
“I’m not releasing anything.”
“You have cameras.”
“For insurance and safety.”
“Do they show the ceremony?”
“No.”
“Do they show Eleanor leaving?”
“The gate cameras may show her arriving alone.”
Diane exhaled. “That could help.”
“Help whom?”
“All of us.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not turning security footage into family propaganda.”
“You would rather let people believe you stole an elderly woman from a wedding?”
“I would rather not put an elderly woman’s movements online to win an argument.”
Eleanor called from inside. “I can hear you saying elderly.”
Diane shut her eyes.
Lila stepped past her into the office.
The room was smaller than Savannah probably imagined. A scarred walnut desk faced two mismatched chairs. Harvest reports covered one wall. Boots lined up beneath a coat rack. A coffee maker older than the tasting room hissed on a filing cabinet.
Eleanor sat in Lila’s chair with both hands around a mug.
“You shouldn’t drink that,” Diane said.
Eleanor took a deliberate sip.
Lila sat on the edge of the desk. “You can stay in the guesthouse tonight.”
Diane opened her mouth.
Lila raised one finger. “One night. Tomorrow we discuss what you want without an audience.”
“I know what I want,” Eleanor said.
“You wanted to make a point today.”
“I wanted Savannah to understand what she had done.”
“She understands that the internet thinks her wedding imploded because her sister owns a vineyard.”
“That was not my intention.”
“No? You walked out minutes before the vows.”
“I learned the truth minutes before the vows.”
“You could have asked me.”
“You weren’t answering.”
Lila looked at her phone. Eleven missed calls from Eleanor, all during a refrigeration emergency and staff briefing.
“You could have left a message.”
“I am seventy-eight. I still believe a person should answer when called.”
“You have voicemail.”
“I dislike talking to machines.”
“You talk to the grocery-store self-checkout.”
“It starts the conversation.”
Despite herself, Lila smiled.
Diane did not. “Mom, did Lila tell you to leave?”
“No.”
“Did she ask you to meet her at the gate?”
“No.”
“Did anyone from the winery contact you?”
“No.”
“Then why did you go there?”
Eleanor stared at her daughter. “Because that is where Lila was.”
“How did you know?”
“I asked one of the servers.”
Lila frowned. “Which server?”
“A young man with a flower tattoo.”
“Jonah.”
“He said you were handling some problem near the loading dock and would be leaving through the north gate.”
Diane crossed her arms. “So you went looking for her.”
“Yes.”
“During the ceremony.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I did not believe I required permission.”
“You let everyone think you were ill.”
“I said I needed air.”
“You disappeared.”
“I walked three hundred yards.”
“You are making this sound reasonable.”
“It was reasonable until everyone chased me.”
The door opened again. Marcy leaned inside.
“I’m sorry. Caleb’s mother wants confirmation about refunds.”
Diane turned sharply. “Refunds?”
Marcy’s professional expression did not change. “The event is being provided as contracted. Ceremony interruption by members of the client party does not trigger a refund.”
“My daughter did not know the owner was involved in the dispute.”
“The owner was not involved until approached.”
Diane looked at Lila. “Did you write that language?”
“No. The insurer did.”
“This is unbelievable.”
“Most contracts are.”
Marcy handed Lila a printed incident form. “Security needs your signature.”
Diane stared at the paper. “You’re documenting us?”
“We document every incident involving physical contact,” Marcy said.
“It was between sisters.”
“It occurred on commercial property.”
May you like
Savannah appeared behind her.
She had removed her veil. Without it, the gown looked unfinished. Tessa stood a few steps back holding the mass of tulle over one arm. Savannah’s lipstick was gone. Her face had been washed, leaving pale skin and swollen eyes.
