“I’m doing no such thing!”
“The hell you aren’t. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I know that.” It wasn’t shame that had kept her away but more like a seismic change of plans.
“Think you can work with him on this subcommittee?”
“So far he’s actually been kind of nice.” As long as she didn’t count the midwives-as-clowns comment. “Even admitted that he broke up with me.”
“The break.” Brooke held up two fingers like air quotes.
“I’m going to make sure that we don’t talk about anything too personal. He’s already asked about Joe, only he calls him John to annoy me.”
“It’s almost like maybe he thinks imaginary Joe isn’t real. Crazy.” Brooke rolled her eyes.
Something pinged deep in Ivey’s belly. “He’s on to me? You think?”
Brooke shook her head. “I don’t know if he would give it much thought.”
“Don’t look now, but your dislike of Jeff is starting to show.”
“Oh yeah? Well I wasn’t trying to hide it.” Brooke had loyalty down to a science, but then again she’d resented the fact that Ivey and Jeff had been a couple all through high school when Brooke had remained single. Not through lack of options, which was a mystery Ivey still hadn’t cracked.
“I’m afraid I’ll break down and tell him everything. It’ll come flowing out of me.”
“After all this time? No, forget it. You need to stem that flow and keep your mouth shut tight.” Brooke touched her lips on the word tight. “That’s your business.”
“Aunt Lucy doesn’t think so. She still thinks he has a right to know.”
“Lucy isn’t exactly the authority of all things relationship-wise. Which husband is she on now? I lost track.”
She had a point. Aunt Lucy had been through four husbands, three of them since winning the lottery. Husband number four was under house arrest in New York, awaiting trial. What did she know about long-term relationships? “But she has a point. Doesn’t she?”
“Maybe she had a point five years ago. You should have told him. You were way too honorable for your own good. He should have stepped up.”
“He would have,” Ivey said and then wondered why she was defending her ex. They’d had plans, and they didn’t include a baby. He didn’t want to get married until he was done with medical school. Having a baby would have sent him over the edge. Besides, had everyone forgotten he’d broken up with her? He didn’t want her then, and she sure didn’t want him to come back to her out of duty.
“As usual you made it easy for him. Like you do with everyone. Think about it. You didn’t tell Jeff because he’d drop out of school, you left your job in LA to take care of your aunt, and now I’d bet my Harley that someone else talked you into being on this subcommittee. Who is it this time?”
Brooke had kindly left out all the times she’d covered for Mom. I’m sorry, Mrs. Monroe, my mom can’t come to the phone right now. She’s got the flu.
“All right, so what? I try to help people. I’m a nurse. What do you want from me?”
“I want you to bandage a cut or deliver a baby but stop trying to fix everybody and everything. For once, will you do what you want?”
“It’s not that easy. When I look at him—I don’t know, he reminds me of what I lost. I can’t help it.”
Brooke squeezed Ivey’s hand. “But what do you want?”
“I want to stay. And I want this job.” Saying it out loud confirmed it, and for once maybe she’d stay, even if it was going to make things more difficult for her, for Jeff, and the rest of the blue-versus-pink-divided town. Too bad.
“Good for you. Then take it. Fight for it.” Brooke pounded the table with her fist.
Ivey startled. “Right.”
A hard-looking man with his jaw dialed to crush strode up next to Brooke and put a hand on her shoulder. “I need to talk to you. Now.”
“I’ll be right back,” Brooke said as she rose, then called out to her coworker: “Eric, I’m taking a break.”
“Hey, how long are you going to be gone? You have to get me some help,” Eric shouted from behind the bar.
“Ivey, do you mind? All you have to do is pour and look pretty. You can do it.”
Great. She knew almost nothing about wine. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’ll be right back,” Brooke said as she led Ivey behind the table. “Eric, here’s your help. Be nice.”
Eric, who didn’t even look old enough to drink, glanced at her sideways. “So. Who are you?”
“Ivey. Can’t that man wait to talk to Brooke?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I doubt it. He’s the boss.”
That explained it. Ivey had never seen Brooke rush to please a man like that. She was probably working on a promotion. “Help me out here. What should I do?”
“Push the Cabernet, and you’ll be fine.” Eric handed her an opened bottle.
For the next twenty minutes offering Cabernet seemed to be enough as Ivey poured and smiled.
She recognized some of the locals, but most of the people here would be tourists. The wine train made a regular stop here, and it was that time of the year.
“My heavens, Ivey, is that you?”
Ivey turned to see Wynonna Pusini, the high-school cafeteria lady. Most everyone in town referred to Mrs. Pusini as the town’s spinster. Aunt Lucy said every town had one. It wasn’t fair, but the label seemed to fit. Mrs. Pusini was a spitfire Greek-Italian woman who didn’t put up with anyone’s shit, and that was the main reason, she’d once explained to Ivey, that she had no husband.
Ivey stood up straighter and poured a glass of the red. “Hi, Mrs. Pusini.”
She had to be retired by now, and she wasn’t alone. There was a gentleman with her, balding with a slight paunch, his arm protectively around Mrs. Pusini’s waist. Well, well, good for her.
“This is my husband, Al.” She introduced Al, who took his arm off her for only a second to shake hands with Ivey. “I got married last year. Can you believe it?”
“Finally someone had the good sense to catch you.”
“That would be me.” Al nodded.
“What about you? Are you and Jeff back together? Please say you are. You wouldn’t believe it, but I finally believe in happy endings.” She held out her glass again.
Ivey poured her another taste. “No, we’re definitely not back together. But we’re friends.”
“Bah! Friends? What kind of nonsense is that?”
Ivey blinked. Mrs. Pusini had had enough, and Ivey held back the bottle. That didn’t make her too happy, if one were to go by the sour expression on her face.
“We don’t all get our happy ending,” Ivey said.
“Baloney. Look at her, Al. Isn’t she pretty? What about your nephew?”
“What about him?” Al, bless his heart, asked.
“For Ivey. She needs someone. Isn’t he about her age?”
“I think he’s nineteen.”
“Perfect!” Mrs. Pusini sang out.
Oh, for the love of Pete. “I’m twenty-five.”
“Even better. You’re a cougar.” She cackled. Still smoked a pack a day, Ivey would guess.
She didn’t like this new Mrs. Pusini. As Al pulled Mrs. Pusini along to the next tasting table, Ivey wondered if they still had a town spinster. Seemed like everyone was married or dating someone, if tonight was any indication. Except, of course, for her. She was the loneliest number.
Every town had a spinster. Could she be the town’s spinster in training? Ivey wracked her brain for the last time she’d had a date. Back in LA, she’d given up hope on men. Seemed like every single one of them was either gay or an actor. But it was time to get back in the game. She couldn’t take Mrs. Pusini’s place. Someone else would have to do that.
Ivey bent over the bar and waved. “Mrs. Pusini, wait! I’ll give you my number.”
She waved back and smiled. Possibly she couldn’t hear over all the
se talking, happy, disgusting couples. Who are you kidding? You’d give anything to be that disgusting.
When Ivey turned back to pouring, a gray-haired gentleman who had moved to the front of the bar startled her. He was also alone, Ivey noticed. Though maybe with good reason, as he had a stalker-slash-serial-killer vibe going on. It was in those dull, gray, empty eyes.
“Do you uh, want some of this?” Ivey offered.
He didn’t hold out his wine glass but continued to stare. “What is it?”
Ivey swallowed, then smiled. Just pour and look pretty, right? “Wine. Red.”
“That’s fascinating, considering we’re at a wine tasting event. Care to elaborate?”
“It’s a—” Ivey turned the bottle in her hands, hoping she could decipher the label and it would tell her something. Anything. But Mrs. Hughes’s second grade class came back to her in Technicolor. She’d never been any good at reading out loud or on the spot. Dyslexia forced her to take her time.
“Miss, do you know anything about wine?” The man looked at her as though he could see right through her and the charade.
Where was Brooke when Ivey needed her? And did Brooke realize the irony in this situation? She’d told Ivey to stop helping people and then set her up. Damn, and Ivey had fallen for it. When would she learn to say no? Hell no. Well it would not be tonight, because something about this man made Ivey want to run and hide, not suddenly grow a spine.
She glanced over at Eric who was busy schmoozing with ladies who appeared to have had more than enough wine already. “Of course I do, sir. This wine is, um, dry?”
He took a sip, swished, and spit in a paper cup he carried. Gross. No one else was spitting tonight. They were swirling and swishing. But this guy had to spit.
“You call this dry? Has this had any chance to breathe?”
Did wine breathe? News to her.
Brooke rejoined Ivey then, easing her slender body behind the table and taking the bottle swiftly from Ivey’s hands. “Mr. Dougherty, so good to see you. I have a case of the private label Merlot you wanted in the back. But this is our new Cabernet . . . ”
Ivey relaxed and watched Brooke do her thing. After Mr. Dougherty had been satisfied, Ivey grabbed Brooke’s arm and squeezed. Tight. “Where were you?”
But Brooke didn’t have to say another word as Ivey took a good long look at her friend—face somewhat flushed, hair messed up like she’d gotten out of bed—what the?
“Did you just—have sex?”
Brooke pulled Ivey aside and shushed her. “Okay, you got me. A little quickie in the back. Thanks for covering for me.”
Ivey felt the red color of indignity spread straight down to her unpainted toenails. “You drag me into doing your job so you can get a little action? I thought you were working.”
“I’m sorry. My brain said no, but the rest of my body doesn’t understand English when I’m around the man. Look, Ivey, I owe you an apology.”
“You’re damn right you do.” She’d never leave a patient alone for a quickie. Although, okay, her patients did have a way of reminding her that a few hours of bliss often amounted to five times the amount of pain.
“Okay, here goes. When you and Jeff—let’s just say now I understand why you ditched me.”
“I didn’t—” Ivey stammered, but her face flushed because they both knew it was a lie. She’d ditched Brooke on more than one occasion for Jeff.
“Back then I didn’t know what I was missing. I was an eighteen-year-old virgin, and I didn’t get why you and Jeff couldn’t stay away from each other. Well believe me, now I do. You should have told me how—and then when the guy—how great it is when you both—Well, if I’d known how much fun you were having, I would have understood.”
“Well, I—” She’d been in love, desperately and completely as only a sixteen-year-old could be.
Brooke laughed. “Okay, quit stammering. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
Eric called out again. “Brooke! If you’re not here in two minutes I’ll be handing in my notice. And this time I’m not kidding.”
“Sorry, got to go. He quits once a week, and even if he is a pain in the ass, he’s good at what he does.”
Ivey didn’t know why, but it felt like everything and everyone around her had changed while she’d stood still. Sure the hills were in the same place. The ambling country road into town peppered with vineyards every hundred feet: the same. But Mr. Peterson was gone (good riddance), Mrs. Pusini was married, Jeff no longer had his nose stuck in a medical textbook, and Brooke was behaving like she’d discovered butter.
Meanwhile, Ivey still felt like the twenty-year old who’d left town with big hopes, only to come back empty handed. She still had the nagging, pressed-down feeling that she’d done something wrong, something unforgivable, even with the best of intentions.
She stood for a few more minutes watching Brooke pour and laugh with the customers. A few minutes ago Brooke had been with her boss somewhere in the back having sweaty sex while everyone else sampled wine, clueless.
That single thought served as a segue for sudden thoughts of Jeff and sex. Sex with Jeff. The type of thoughts she didn’t want to have in her head right now.
Stupid wine. She didn’t even have to drink it for it to mess with her head.
“Mommy says you don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Nope. What about you? Boyfriend?”
“No!”
“Ah. You’re married, then.”
“I’m not married, you silly.”
“Don’t tell me you’re divorced.”
“No!”
“Don’t worry, someone will come along.”
“Ew! I’m never getting married.”
“That’s what you say now. Your mother used to say that too, and now look at her.”
“Becky! Jeff! Dinner’s ready.”
“C’mon, squirt. It’s time to make conversation with the grown-ups and make believe we’re interested.” Jeff caught four-year-old Becky as she leapt off the jungle gym and into his waiting arms.
“I can fly!”
“Yeah, yeah.” He plopped his niece on the lawn and watched her skip up to the back porch and through the sliding glass door.
Seemed like she’d grown three inches and several IQ points since he’d seen her last month. He didn’t see his family often enough, so it was probably for the best that he didn’t have one of his own. Who had time? Unless he wanted to blame the five-foot-nothing fireball that had come back into his life. They’d had a plan. Marriage, kids, the house, dogs. Maybe even a cat if he was feeling generous.
Medicine was now his life. He had to keep reminding himself that some choices required sacrifice. Even if he felt he’d already sacrificed enough.
Ali, as usual, was worried about him. She’d already seen Ivey back in town and probably understood the effect that would have on him. Ali said it was because they’d never had real “closure,” which sounded like the psychobabble word du jour.
After dinner, he helped his sister clear the dishes while Bob the Saint put the kids to bed.
“I’ve wanted to talk to you about someone,” Ali said.
“You mean something.” Jeff handed her a plate.
“No, someone. I met her at the park last week.”
“No.” Among all of her sisterly duties, Ali had become his dating service.
“She’s a single mother of one adorable little boy. And a professional. She’s a lawyer.”
“Hate to repeat myself, but no.”
“But why?”
“I don’t do blind dates.”
“But this woman is perfect for you.”
Ivey was perfect for him, and look how well that had worked out. “Even worse.”
“You’re not making any sense. It’s because of Ivey, isn’t it?”
When it came to Ivey, it was true that nothing made sense. “I haven’t let you fix me up for a year, and now you want to blame it on Ivey?”
“I thought I w
as wearing you down.”
“You weren’t.”
“I hate that you’re alone.”
“I’m not alone. I have you guys. Scott, my roommate, even if he is gone half the time. And the hospital. Don’t know if you heard, but we’re engaged. Very happy together too. I’ll make sure to send you a save the date.”
“This isn’t funny. You’re a great guy, a real catch. And even if you are my brother, the word is that you’re hot. I know, gross.”
“Disgusting. It’s not like I haven’t dated. I don’t have time for a relationship, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I noticed. But sooner or later you’ll have time. And then what? Are you going to settle down with someone because the timing is right? It doesn’t work that way.”
She wasn’t saying anything he hadn’t thought of at one time or another, when he had time to think about personal shit. Which was about ten minutes out of every twenty-four hours. Yeah he was alone, and he hadn’t planned it that way. He’d wanted to marry Ivey right after medical school. He figured his wife would put up with the long resident hours and near poverty like no girlfriend ever would. He’d taken a lot for granted.
“What about one of those computer matchmaking services?”
Jeff couldn’t help the tick that formed in his jaw or the way his hands tightened around the glass he held. “You mean like the one where Ivey found her perfect match?”
His sister had the decency to look shamed. “Obviously she didn’t, or she wouldn’t be back in town, single again. That’s what worries me. You two are going to gravitate back toward each other like magnets.”
While that had a nice ring to it, he had his doubts. “Don’t worry about that. She hates me. The way she sees it, I broke up with her.”
Ali froze and stopped rinsing the plate midair. “That’s because she doesn’t know, does she?”
“And she never will.”
One month after their fight, he’d made it through exams and headed home to Ivey. To spend the entire weekend in her arms and never leave the bedroom. He’d been too abrupt with her in their last conversation. One week later he’d regretted it, but instead of calling, he’d waited and hatched a scheme to surprise her. Gone by his parent’s house to pick up his grandmother’s ring. His idea of a compromise. Ivey would understand how he felt about her. There was no else for him, but he needed more time to put his career in order. He would propose, and they’d have a long engagement. Ivey would get the surprise of her life.
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