Chương 6
Mateo appeared with two paper cups.
“I heard we’re exploiting the elderly now,” he said.
“Apparently.”
“Busy week.”
She accepted the coffee. “Who called?”
“Your mother.”
“You don’t know that.”
“She left me a voicemail at two in the morning asking whether Eleanor had access to her own phone.”
Lila looked at him.
“I did not answer,” he said. “Because unlike your grandmother, I enjoy voicemail.”
“Save it.”
“Already saved.”
“Do not share it.”
“I know.”
They sat without speaking.
At the far end of the courtyard, Jonah dragged a hose across the stone and sprayed spilled wine from yesterday’s service. Pink water ran toward the drain. Someone inside tested the espresso grinder. A leaf blower started near the parking lot, then stopped after three seconds, as though the worker had remembered the owner was having a family crisis and decided dirt could wait.
Mateo blew across his coffee.
“Distributor called,” he said.
“Which one?”
“North Coast Table.”
Lila’s stomach tightened. The company had spent nine months considering a regional placement for Willow Creek’s reserve pinot. The agreement would not save the winery, but it would steady it. Two weak harvests, rising insurance premiums, and a failed restaurant partnership had left less margin than anyone outside the office understood.
“What did they say?”
“They’re monitoring the situation.”
“Meaning?”
“They don’t want to launch a family-drama wine.”
“We don’t make family-drama wine.”
“Technically all wine is family-drama wine.”
She gave him a look.
“They want assurance the brand won’t become controversial.”
“The controversy is that I own land?”
“The controversy depends on which twelve-second clip people see.”
Lila checked her phone.
The original video had passed six million views. New versions added music, captions, and false explanations. One claimed Lila had seduced Caleb. Another claimed Grandma Eleanor had secretly purchased the vineyard and given it to Lila that morning. A woman with four million followers had called the event “a master class in quiet revenge.”
The winery’s online store had received hundreds of orders overnight.
It had also received three threats, forty-seven refund demands from people who had never bought anything, and a flood of one-star reviews from strangers.
“Pause online sales,” Lila said.
Mateo stared at her. “We sold two normal weeks of inventory since midnight.”
“Pause it.”
“Why?”
“Because people are buying a person, not wine.”
“We have payroll.”
“We also have a reputation after this week.”
“Reputation doesn’t pay the bottling invoice.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
The question irritated her because it came from someone allowed to ask it.
She looked toward the guesthouse. “How bad?”
“If North Coast walks and we pause online sales, we delay the barrel payment.”
“For how long?”
“Three weeks, maybe four.”
“Use the reserve.”
“The reserve is for harvest.”
“We are six weeks from harvest.”
“Which is why I enjoy having a reserve.”
She rubbed her forehead. “Pause for forty-eight hours.”
“Twenty-four.”
“Thirty-six.”
He considered. “Fine.”
Rhonda opened the guesthouse door.
Eleanor stood behind her, dressed in yesterday’s blouse and a pair of borrowed linen pants from Lila’s closet that stopped above her ankles.
Rhonda walked over to the steps.
“Mrs. Pierce appears able to state her preferences clearly,” she said. “She has access to her phone, identification, accounts, medication, and transportation.”
Lila nodded.
“I will need to verify some information.”
“Of course.”
“She says she intends to return to her home today.”
“That’s her choice.”
“She also says you have never asked to be added to her accounts or property records.”
“I haven’t.”
“She says you paid for repairs to her roof last winter.”
“She repaid me.”
Eleanor called from the doorway, “With interest.”
Rhonda glanced back. “She is very specific about the interest.”
“It was thirty-two dollars,” Lila said.
“It was the correct amount,” Eleanor replied.
Rhonda closed the folder. “I may follow up.”
“Please do.”
She hesitated. “You should know these reports can become contentious in families. Keep records. Avoid handling cash for her. Encourage independent advice for any major decision.”
“I do.”
Eleanor made a dissatisfied noise.
Rhonda left.
Lila watched the county sedan disappear beyond the gate.
“I am sorry,” Eleanor said.
Lila did not turn.
“For the report?”
“For all of it.”
“Which part?”
Eleanor came down the path slowly. Her borrowed pants flapped around her shins.
“I should not have made that speech.”
“No.”
“I believed I was defending you.”
“You were punishing them.”
Eleanor stopped.
Lila looked at her. “You didn’t leave because you suddenly discovered my value. You already knew I wasn’t invited.”
“I did not.”
“You knew we were estranged.”
“That is different.”
“You wanted Savannah’s wedding to become a lesson.”
“I wanted her to feel the cost of what she had done.”
“So you used me as the cost.”
Eleanor’s mouth tightened.
Lila stood. “I spent half my life being the thing everyone pointed to when they wanted someone else to feel ashamed. Dad should be responsible like Lila. Mom should be strong like Lila. Savannah should be grateful to Lila. You called it praise. It felt like a job.”
“I loved you.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. You also used me.”
Eleanor lowered herself onto the step.
Mateo took his coffee and walked away without being asked.
For a while, grandmother and granddaughter watched Jonah coil the hose.
Eleanor said, “When your father left, you were nineteen.”
“Twenty.”
“You seemed older.”
“That was convenient.”
The words landed between them.
Eleanor folded her hands over the knob of her cane. “Your mother was barely functioning. Savannah was fourteen. I had your grandfather in hospice. You stepped in.”
“I know what happened.”
“I let you.”
“Yes.”
“I was grateful.”
“You were relieved.”
“Yes.”
A mourning dove called from the telephone wire. The sound repeated, patient and slightly foolish.
Eleanor looked toward the vines. “I thought telling you how strong you were would make it easier.”
“It made it harder to stop.”
May you like
“I see that now.”
Lila wanted to believe her. She also wanted to make Eleanor work longer for forgiveness. Both feelings sat comfortably beside each other.
