The Apple Orchard

by Susan Wiggs

  “Listen.” Tess stood. “You’ll get through the mess. This is business. That’s all it is.”

  “No,” Isabel said, dropping her hands and rounding on her. “Maybe it is for you, but for me and Grandfather and people who have been here for years, it’s our life.”

  “Then you’ll find a new life,” Tess said. “People do it every day—”

  “That might be true for some people,” snapped Isabel, “but not for me.”

  “You can’t let this defeat you.” Tess felt a headache coming on. She turned to Dominic. “What will it take to fix this situation? A miracle?”

  “Yeah, a miracle. That would be good.”

  “Excuse me,” said Isabel, picking up the tea tray and heading for the door. “I need to be by myself for a little bit.”

  Tess watched her go, feeling a deep welling of sympathy for her. Bella Vista was the only home Isabel had ever known, and she seemed singularly ill equipped to strike out on her own. She turned back to Dominic, rubbing her pounding temples. “Talk about kicking a person when she’s down.”

  “I don’t like any of this any more than you do.” He studied her closely, his eyes reflecting concern. “Are you all right?”

  She had the uncanny sensation that he could see her in ways most guys overlooked. Not to mention the fact that he’d already seen her in major meltdown mode. “Am I going to need a trip to the emergency room, do you mean? No. Do I feel like crap? Why, yes, yes, I do.”

  “Tell you what,” he said. “Let’s take a break.”

  * * *

  They went outside together. The scent of ripe apples hung in the air. In the distance, Isabel melded with the peaceful scenery as she walked between the rows of trees in the orchard, the scented breeze lifting her skirt and twirling tendrils of her dark hair. Yellowing leaves danced on the breeze and wafted down to the dry grass. The day was aglow with the peculiar golden light of autumn. Isabel looked serene, but Tess knew that was a deception, played by the sun and the gorgeous landscape.

  “Tell me about my sister,” she said to Dominic.

  His gaze shifted, just a little bit. There, she thought, reading the signal. Something about her question made him uncomfortable. “What do you want to know?”

  “How about you start with what will happen to her after the foreclosure.”

  “That’s up to Isabel.”

  “She seems...fragile.”

  “We’re all fragile,” he said, then hastily added, “Your sister will get through this. I think you’ll find she has hidden strengths.”

  “I’m not surprised to hear it. She’ll be needing that soon.”

  There was a sundial on a section of a patio exposed to the full sun. She paused to read a patina-blue copper plaque by the sundial: “What a joy life is when you have made a close working partnership with Nature, helping her to produce for the benefit of mankind new forms, colors, and perfumes in flowers which were never known before; fruits in form, size, and flavor never before seen on this globe.”—Luther Burbank.

  “It’s the mission statement of Bella Vista,” Dominic said. “Magnus and Eva had it cast in honor of their first harvest.”

  She studied the plaque in its bright setting and tried to picture the Johansens as a young couple, so full of hope for their future, fiercely believing the idealistic words. “It’s nice. But not so helpful when it comes to scraping together cash for the bank.”

  “True.”

  She filled her lungs with fresh air and realized she hadn’t thought about smoking a cigarette at all today. According to the package insert in the foul-tasting gum, it only took thirty-six hours for the physical dependence to go away. Thirty-six hours wasn’t such a long time. If she’d known that, she might have tried quitting a long time ago.

  “Where did all the money go?” she asked Dominic. “I mean, three mortgages? Is this operation just not sustainable?”

  “It is,” Dominic said. “Magnus is a good grower and not a terrible businessman. The trouble started years ago, when he got himself into a hole he couldn’t dig out of. And then there were at least two more setbacks that I know about.”

  “What happened?” She imagined foolish extravagances, gambling problems, unwise investments, maybe scams. “Am I allowed to know, or am I prying?”

  “I’ve never known a secret to do anything but damage,” Dominic said.

  His words startled her. “So how did he get into that downward spiral?”

  “He took the first loan—a line of credit—when his wife got sick. Their insurance didn’t cover the bills for her illness. Happens to people every day, unfortunately. In the case of his wife, he thought he was insured to the hilt, but the insurance company argued otherwise, and he had to pay for her treatment out of pocket.”

  “Why wouldn’t they cover her illness?”

  “They linked it to a pre-existing condition.”

  “What was the condition?”

  He paused. “During World War II, Eva spent time in a concentration camp called Theresienstadt. She must have been just a little girl.”

  Tess shuddered as a chill slipped through her. Theresienstadt. It was a Nazi death camp where most of the captured Jews of Denmark had been taken.

  Suddenly she had to realign her thinking about the stranger who had been her grandmother. “I noticed her grave marker had a Hebrew phrase on it, so I figured she was Jewish. But my God, a concentration camp?” Tess’s heart ached. “What a nightmare.”

  “The insurance company claimed the fact that she’d been an inmate in a concentration camp created a pre-existing condition, which wasn’t covered,” said Dominic.

  “What? You mean, being forced into starvation as a child is considered a pre-existing condition?”

  “They said it was a precursor to the form of cancer that struck her six decades later.”

  “That’s criminal. How can they get away with such a thing?”

  “Magnus could have fought them, but that would have incurred legal fees and deadly delays, with no guarantee of the outcome. In the meantime, Eva needed treatment.”

  “That’s horrible. I can’t believe how horrible it is. Couldn’t he have sued the insurance company after the fact?”

  “People can sue anyone for anything. But again, you don’t want to create a delay when someone’s life is at stake.”

  The injustice made her chest ache. She knew taking on an insurance company was a David versus Goliath proposition, and that Goliath almost always won.

  “The next two loans are for medical expenses, too,” Dominic continued. “A worker had an accident on the job—a bad one. Magnus’s liability was limited, but he wanted to take responsibility for Timon. He covered all his bills and ongoing care, as well.”

  “What happened to the guy?”

  “Tim? He still lives at Bella Vista. He’s the Navarros’ youngest. He suffered a traumatic brain injury, and he’s disabled. Magnus added a provision for him in his will, but under the circumstances, he won’t be able to cover him.”

  She pictured the fallen, helpless man in his hospital bed. “So basically what we have is a saint who’s about to lose everything he spent his life building.”

  “For what it’s worth,” Dominic said, “I’m sorry as hell about this.”

  “Just doing your job, right? It must be horrible for you, having a job that puts people out of their homes.”

  He didn’t say anything. She knew her remark wasn’t fair. He was in the business of making it possible for people to buy their homes, too.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this mess before, when you came to find me in the city?” she asked.

  “Would it have mattered?”

  “No,” she said quickly, “of course not.”

  “It seemed more decent to tell you and Isabel together. Again, I’m sorry.”

  She wanted to be mad at him, but instead, she just felt a wave of resignation. “Don’t apologize to me. I haven’t lost anything here. It’s certainly nothing like the loss
Isabel and her grandfather are facing. I have a perfectly fine life in San Francisco—which, by the way, is where I’m headed this evening. I’ve gone twenty-nine years without knowing anything about my father’s family, and I—”

  “You’re twenty-nine?”

  She didn’t understand the surprise on his face. Instant paranoia set in. Did she look older? Should she have gone to Lydia’s Botox party last month? “Why do you seem so surprised?”

  His gaze shifted away. “You look...younger than twenty-nine.”

  There was a hesitation in his voice—something else she didn’t understand. At least he’d said the right thing—that she looked young. Maybe it was the freckles. “You’re being weird about my age,” she said. “Why are you being weird about my age?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Dominic said.

  “I do,” Isabel said, walking toward them.

  Tess turned in surprise. She hadn’t heard Isabel approach and wondered how much of the conversation she’d overheard. Surrounded by the sunlit changing leaves of a grape arbor, Isabel resembled a dark fairy or a sprite. “He’s being weird because I’m twenty-nine, too,” she said.

  Tess’s head started to pound in sync with the sudden churning of her gut. If they were the same age, then that meant... Good lord, what kind of person had their father been?

  If there was ever any question in Tess’s mind about his integrity, she now knew the answer. But it only opened the door to more questions.

  “Isabel, when is your birthday?” she asked quietly, her fists clenching. Which sister was older? Whose mother had been with Erik first; which woman had been betrayed?

  “I was born on March 27. What about you?”

  Tess nearly choked. When she finally found her voice, she said, “March 27, same as you.”

  No one spoke for several minutes. She could hear the breeze through the arbor, bees bumbling in the lavender and milkweed, and the distant, piercing cry of a hawk, the ticking of a wall clock.

  “Are you okay?” asked Dominic.

  The sick feeling that had sent her to the emergency room now washed over her in a wave, and without thinking, she took his hand. His fingers immediately tightened around hers, warm and reassuring. “Give me a second,” she whispered, seeing the concern in his eyes. Then she turned to Isabel. “What the hell...? Did you know anything about this?”

  “No.”

  “Did Magnus? Of course he did.”

  “I wasn’t privy to the situation.”

  As her heart surged in uncomprehending panic, she looked down at their joined hands. Just that, the feel of that connection, eased the disorientation a little. She took a breath, then extricated her hand from his. “I... Sorry.”

  “No problem,” he said quietly.

  Tess had never considered herself a touchy person, yet all she wanted to do was touch him. In the awkward silence, she turned to Isabel. “You didn’t know?” she asked.

  “I had no idea.” Isabel’s voice wavered, and she looked as stunned as Tess felt. “I need to go bake something.”

  “I need to go shoot something,” said Tess.

  “I need to go back to the bank,” Dominic told them.

  “Actually,” Tess said, “I’m going to give my mother one more chance to reply to my messages. After that I’ll have to go find her and drag her here by the hair.”

  * * *

  “We need to talk,” Tess told her mother’s too-familiar voice mail. Mystified and hurt, she paced back and forth in the great room, the house phone glued to her ear. “And if you don’t get back to me by the end of the day, no matter where you are, then don’t bother calling me again, ever.” For good measure, she sent a text message and an email to the same effect. She knew now that her mother was hiding. From what? From having to reveal secrets she’d kept for thirty years?

  Tess hung up, then checked in with the office. “I need more time,” she told Jude.

  “And I—we, everyone here—need you back at work. Or doesn’t work matter to you anymore?”

  “Work is everything to me. You know that. But there’s... Something came up.”

  “You found a long-lost sister. I’m happy for you, really. But in the meantime, you’ve got a job to do. And last time I checked, you had an apartment, friends, a life in the city.”

  “We just figured out that we were born on the same day,” said Tess.

  “Come again?”

  “Isabel and I. We have the same birthday. Same year.”

  “What, now you’re saying you’re twins?”

  “No,” she said in exasperation. “Same father, different mothers.”

  That silenced even Jude. She paced some more. A delicious aroma wafted from the kitchen. Isabel was in a baking frenzy.

  “So for God’s sake,” she said, “I’m going to need to explore this situation a little deeper. If you were my friend, you’d come and help out. You should see this place, Jude. It’s...” She stopped pacing to gaze out the window. “Just like Neelie said. Magic.”

  “You need to get your magic ass back here,” he said.

  “Have you always been such a tool, or am I only noticing it now?” she asked.

  “Hey—”

  “I’ll check in with you later,” she said, already forgetting him as she lowered the phone. Outside, Dominic’s car rolled to a stop. Two kids and two dogs spilled out. Charlie, the shepherd mix, yelped with joy and raced to greet them.

  Tess went outside, her spirits lifting at the sight of Dominic and his kids. “Hey, you guys,” she said. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

  “Dad said Isabel was baking cookies,” said Antonio.

  “He said she was baking, moron,” said Trini. “He didn’t say what.”

  “Dad—”

  “Trini.” His voice alone was command enough.

  “Sorry,” she muttered.

  “I have it on good authority that she is baking cookies.”

  “Yesss,” said Antonio. “I knew it.”

  Isabel came out, carrying a platter. “I heard a rumor, too,” she said, beaming. “I heard a rumor that there were two hungry kids on their way to the harvest fair. Ginger molasses, the soft kind. Help yourself.”

  The kids each wolfed down a cookie. It was all Tess could do not to follow suit, but she took a more dainty bite. “Isabel, you’re killing me,” she said.

  “Yeah, Dad, you should learn to make cookies like this,” said Trini. “I bet if you did, I’d end up getting straight A’s in school.”

  “Then I’d better teach him,” said Isabel.

  “Not today,” said Dominic. “Harvest fair, remember?”

  “No,” Tess said swiftly. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

  “It’s the biggest celebration of the year in Archangel,” said Isabel.

  “And you’re both coming,” said Dominic.

  “We probably shouldn’t,” said Tess. Harvest celebration? She went to happy hour, not harvest fairs. “We’ve got a lot going on here—”

  “And you need a break from it,” he said easily. “It’ll do you a world of good. I entered you in the grape stomp.”

  Grape stomp. “This does not sound promising.”

  “You’re going to love it.”

  “Whenever someone says that to me, nothing good ever follows,” said Tess.

  “I’m wounded,” said Dominic, opening the back of the SUV for the dogs. “Grab a change of clothes, and let’s go.”

  The change of clothes suggestion should have tipped her off. The town square had been transformed into an old-fashioned fairground, with striped pavilions set up, delicious smells everywhere, people milling around and kids and dogs racing everywhere.

  “This town is so charming,” Tess remarked as they headed down the promenade. “I’m surprised it’s not overrun by tourists.”

  “We get our share. There’s definitely a cadre of reclusive famous types who live here, hiding out from the paparazzi.”

  “Really? Like who? If
you tell me, will you have to kill me?”

  “Talk-show hosts, retired athletes, that type.”

  “Hmm. I think what you’re not telling me is a lot more interesting than what you are.”

  “Most of them are in Sonoma or Healdsburg. Closer to the airport. People who come here tend to be the type who stick around for a while.”

  “I guess that rules me out,” she said. She didn’t know why she was so quick to tell him that. It seemed important to set that boundary.

  “I’d never rule you out,” he said quietly.

  His words nearly stopped her in her tracks, but there was no time to pursue the matter. The kids insisted on taking all three dogs to the dog dash, a race to benefit the local P.A.W.S. shelter. Iggy won handily, causing the kids to nearly burst with pride. The Dude was given a ribbon for “most unusual,” and Charlie for “funniest.”

  Dominic leaned down and spoke low into Tess’s ear. “I think the point is that everyone is a winner.”

  When she went to claim Charlie’s ribbon, the judge told her, “You have a beautiful family.”

  Startled, she turned back to see Dominic and the kids waving Isabel over to see the ribbons. “Oh,” said Tess, “they’re not...” Then she simply smiled and said, “Thanks.”

  They walked together from booth to booth, sampling wine and cider, jam and gourmet bites. Tess had to admit that Dominic was right—they did need a break from the troubles at Bella Vista. Isabel was more relaxed than she’d ever seen her, walking around and greeting friends, accepting well wishes for Magnus.

  Tess was charmed by the sense of community she found here. Even though she was a stranger, she felt as if she belonged, thanks to the simple gesture of a friendly smile, the offer of a sample of food or taste of wine. At one point, her hand brushed Dominic’s, and she flushed, wondering if he had any idea how attractive he was to her.

  The grape stomp was the final event of the evening. Tess was designated the stomper, and Isabel the swabby. That was when she figured out why Dominic had advised her to wear cut-offs and bring a change of clothes.

  “You’re kidding,” she said, regarding the stage, which featured a row of half barrels full of grapes.