Just Like This

by Rebecca Gallo

  “Already?”

  Oliver did everything that was expected of him, including getting married to the right girl who came from the right family with the right amount of acreage in the right appellation.

  “He’s transformed our wine club and the tasting room. You’ll see,” my dad said with an added wink. It was hard to not be jealous of the pride he showed in Oliver; I wished that some of that pride was for me and what I had accomplished.

  “And Neil?” My youngest brother could do whatever the hell he wanted because he was the baby. He didn’t have to run the winery or major in business. Honestly, he was probably the happiest of the Hammond boys.

  “Oh, you know Neil.”

  No, I didn’t. I enlisted when he was eight, so I had no idea what my youngest brother was like. “Tell me.”

  “He’s a freshman at Stanford. Got a swimming scholarship. The coaches think he might be the next Michael Phelps.”

  “So, no winery in his future,” I mumbled.

  “What was that, Garrett? You know I can’t stand it when you mumble.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I asked if the Olympics were in his future.”

  “That’s a question you’ll have to ask him.”

  For the remainder of the car ride, I listened as my dad talked comfortably about the improvements to the vineyard. This was his life, and the grapes were his lifeblood. The only thing he loved more than running Hammond Wines was my mother. But it was obvious he was starting to slow down. His hair was more salt than pepper, and his face was thinner. His eyes were tired too; their twinkle had dulled a little. He surprised me by asking for my opinions, but I soon saw the plan hidden in his questions; he was going to have the retirement talk with me while I was home on leave. And with a year left on my current contract, I might finally listen to him.

  The next morning, I was up before the sun. My body was accustomed to rising early, and it didn’t differentiate between being home and being on base. I brewed a fresh pot of coffee, poured a cup, then sat out on the front porch of the guest cottage and watched the sun rise over the acres and acres of land. The light of day bathed everything in a soft golden glow, and the fog that had settled overnight started to dissipate from the rolling hills. The smell of the damp earth hit my nose as I inhaled its sharp, pungent smell. Slowly, the sounds of the vineyard coming to life filtered up to me. Birds chirping mixed with the sounds of trucks roaring to life. The winery was alive in more ways than one, and I loved seeing it come to life. With one final sip of my coffee, it was time to get my day started.

  I laced up my running shoes and set off for the vineyard. In high school, I ran track and would get in my miles between the rows and rows of petite Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon. As I ran, I admired the property. Taking over the winery was never my life’s ambition. Truthfully, I didn’t have much ambition as a teenager. The only thing in life I was adamant about was not running the winery. I rebelled against my father’s expectations at eighteen and never looked back.

  I jogged through row after row until I was breathless. I slowed my paced to a walk and then spread my arms, letting the tips of my fingertips touch the leaves and the fruit that was just starting to ripen. Soon, it would all become Hammond Wines.

  I had spent hours and hours with the vines, inspecting each row, tasting the fruit, running my fingers through the dusty earth. The weather had been dry, and according to my brother’s monthly emails, there had already been two massive fires in the area. This year’s harvest was going to have a little bit of a smokiness.

  “You’re back?” The familiar sound of Oliver’s voice startled me. Seeing him out so early was unexpected until I realized that this was his life and his job now. He was running Hammond Wines, and this was my first glimpse of seeing him in charge. Squinting into the sunlight, I examined my brother, noting all the ways he had changed. Eighteen months separated us, but sometimes he seemed older. Dressed in old, faded jeans and a Hammond Wines T-shirt, he had a layer of sweat covering his forehead that meant Oliver had probably been awake before me.

  “Up at it pretty early, Ollie?” I asked.

  “Are you back, Garrett? For good?” Oliver didn’t pull any punches or bother with trivial pleasantries. There was no talk of the weather or my recent deployment or even our favorite baseball team, the Giants. He was all business.

  I shook my head in reply. “No, Ollie. I still have a year left. I’m just on leave for the next thirty days.”

  “And then are you coming back to take over?” It was hard to tell if the tremor in his voice was from nerves or excitement.

  I started to walk, and Oliver followed. That was the million-dollar question. When my current enlistment was over, would I return and take over Hammond Wines? I knew I couldn’t because I finally recognized the emotion in his voice; he wasn’t happy to have me home. He was worried I’d take everything away from him. If Dad was happy with how he ran the business, then I’d never fight him for control.

  “I don’t know yet, Ollie. But you don’t have to worry; I’d never take Hammond Wines from you.”

  Inadvertently, we walked to a spot in the middle of the vineyard where a granite bench rested. I traced my fingers silently over the engraved name of our mother in the center. Not being with her when she died was my one regret in life. She was too sick to travel when I graduated from boot camp, and then my Army commitments took me away before I had the chance to visit her one last time. The opportunity to say goodbye or make amends or share one more “I love you” was gone in an instant. A heavy silence settled between my brother and me as we sat surrounded by the acres and acres of land she loved dearly. These vines were her life, and I broke her heart when I enlisted after high school.

  “Show me the tasting room.” The silence shattered, and Oliver looked up at me blankly. I motioned toward the end of the row. “Come on. I want to see what you’ve done with it.”

  I followed Oliver to an ATV parked nearby, and we headed back to the main property. My father started Hammond Wines by himself. He inherited the run-down property from a childless great-uncle who had left the land in complete disarray. My father made it his mission to resurrect the land and the varietals it produced. When he married my mother, she brought her family’s sizeable acreage in Rutherford. They were the perfect pair; he had the business knowledge, and she understood the complex soil that had the power to give and the power to take away. My parents were incredibly proud of the empire they created, and my father expected his sons to follow in his footsteps.

  The main house, where he still lived and ran the business, dominated the entrance to the winery. Having the family home front and center was a statement; this was a family-run winery, and the family still lived on the land. A series of production buildings sat in the back of the property and just behind the main house was the tasting room. The guest cottage, where I stayed, was down a dusty path far from the day-to-day business.

  I watched employees greet Oliver with warmth but look at me with suspicion. It didn’t bother me because I was a stranger to them. The only one who knew me was the manager, Ivan. Seeing the respect he received from his employees made me proud of my brother.

  Oliver steered me toward the tasting room and talked me through all of the recent improvements. He was excited about every single one of them, which made me eager to spend the day with him, pouring our family’s wines and learning about the business he’d transformed.

  “Let me get cleaned up and I’ll come and work with you in the tasting room,” I said once we were back outside.

  “Yeah?” I nodded, and his smile grew. “Awesome. It’s so good to have you home, Garrett.”

  “It actually feels good to be back.”

  Chapter Five

  Garrett

  I spent the next week working comfortably alongside Oliver. We actually made a pretty good team. Some of my old teenage rebellions lost their steam, and I felt comfortable accepting responsibility for things I once avoided. Finally, I was able to admit that I wanted so
mething just like this.

  “Son, can I talk to you?” I looked up from behind the bar and saw my father standing the doorway of the tasting room. It was finally time to have the talk.

  I excused myself from the customers I was helping and followed him across the yard to the main house. From the serious expression on my father’s face to the rigid way he walked, I knew that he expected me to tell him my plan. We walked up the wide-plank steps and through the front door. Dad led me down the hallway until we were in his office. He stayed silent as he rounded the massive desk and sat down, nodding at the two ancient wing-back chairs in front. I looked around at the dark wood paneling on the walls before sitting. Some things never changed, like this office.

  “Garret, I’m getting old.” This was a huge confession for my dad. I had noticed over the past few days how slowly he moved in private because around his employees, he still had a spring in his step. “I want to retire.”

  “I know,” I replied quietly.

  “Then you know what I’m about to ask you.” His voice was stern, but there was an unexpected softness as if he was pleading with me to come home.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “But you still don’t have an answer for me?” His voice was harder, and it was nearly impossible for me to meet his eyes. The guilt I had buried after my mother’s death started to creep up through my veins. My dad slammed his fist down on the wooden desk, and I jumped unexpectedly. It had been years since I’d last faced my father’s anger.

  “My current enlistment ends in one year, sir. My next deployment will be my last.”

  “And then you’ll come back?”

  I nodded silently. He seemed to relax against his chair, pleased with my response.

  “But I won’t take the business away from Oliver.”

  My dad’s mouth hardened to a thin line. “Then what do you want?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe manage the vineyard? I’ve always had a passion for the land, just like Mom.”

  My father was quiet. Discussing my mother was unexpected and threw him off. But this was also the first time I’d ever shown a desire to be a part of Hammond Wines.

  “Do what you need to do, Garrett, but when you’re done, I expect you to honor the commitment you just made.”

  I didn’t have to say anything because the way we stared at each other silently was acknowledgment enough.

  “I’m heading back to Gig Harbor in a few days,” I informed him.

  My father merely grunted his response, and I knew that our conversation was over. He had gotten what he wanted from me. I left his office, pulled my cell phone free from my back pocket, and dialed Palmer.

  “Hey, man. When are you coming back?” Palmer asked.

  “Thursday afternoon. Tell your mom I’ll bring her another case of wine.”

  “That’s great news. She’ll love that. I’ll arrange a big dinner and invite some people. Nikki called. She’s in town.”

  I groaned. I really didn’t want to see Nikki. She was fun for a while, but beyond a day or two, she became impossible. But she was friends with Palmer too. “Geez, Palmer. I’m not really in the mood for parties. That’s one of the reasons why I skipped out on Vegas.”

  Palmer laughed at my discomfort. “Fine, fine. Just a barbeque or something. I’ll ask Cami to make a pie. She makes amazing pies.”

  We continued talking, but honestly, his words fell on deaf ears. Once he’d mentioned inviting Cami, I started picturing her wild curls and vibrant blue eyes; curves that would fit my hands perfectly. This would be the chance I needed to see if something was there beyond my own desire.

  When I returned to the tasting room, it was packed, and Oliver was so slammed, he barely acknowledged my return. I stepped in immediately, assisting him with a few customers. During a lull in business, I spotted Tabitha and her little but growing baby bump clearing away empty glasses from the high-top tables scattered around the room. I walked out from behind the bar and over to her, taking the tray from her hands.

  “Go sit down,” I told her softly. She opened her mouth to protest, but I held up a hand to silence her. “Or go and take a nap. I’m here, so feel free to take a break.”

  “Thank you, Garrett,” she responded sweetly.

  Oliver tracked her as she walked through the room. It was clear that he loved her because it was written all over his face. Something just like that, I told myself. I wanted something just like that. Cami’s face popped into my mind. I wanted someone like her, and that made me nervous. Seeing her at breakfast the day after Palmer’s coming home party had me itching to touch her. I felt so out of control when I was around her, and that scared me. The first chance I got that morning, I ran.

  “Come on over to our place tonight for dinner,” Oliver told me. “Sasha wants to meet her Uncle Bear.”

  “Bear?”

  “She can’t say Garrett quite yet.”

  I smiled and accepted his invitation.

  When the tasting room emptied of the last customer, Oliver and I worked silently to get everything cleaned up before leaving for the night. As we drove, I realized I hadn’t been to their house, and I had no idea where he lived. Sasha had been just a baby the last time I was home.

  The moment I stepped into Oliver’s a house, a tiny ball of energy catapulted herself at me, wrapping her tiny body around my legs. “Unca Bear! Unca Bear!”

  Surprised, I looked at Oliver and Tabitha for guidance. “We talk about you a lot. You’re her favorite bedtime story. She loves to hear about her Uncle Bear, the great hero.”

  “We thought it was important that she know you, even if you’re not here,” Tabitha added.

  I kneeled in front of Sasha who was dressed in some kind of frilly pink gown and scooped her into my arms. “Hello, Princess,” I greeted her, showering her face with light kisses. She giggled and squirmed as my rough beard scratched against her delicate skin until I set her down. She squealed as she ran around the house, resuming her reign of terror.

  “Do you want a drink?” Oliver asked, brushing past me into the family room.

  “Absolutely.” I followed him, taking in my surroundings. Oliver’s home was large and comfortable; there wasn’t a speck of formality to be found. I noticed a long table littered with pictures and walked over to inspect them. There were several framed photos of me that had been taken over the course of my service, including the picture that was taken right after I had graduated from boot camp. I cringed at how young and inexperienced I looked. The guy in that photo was just a scared kid.

  “Unca Bear hero,” Sasha chirped. I looked down to see her smiling. I reached down and ruffled her hair before she reached up for me with an expectant look. “Uppie, Unca Bear. Uppie.”

  It was hard to deny the little angel with a head full of blond curls, so I lifted her willingly into my arms. She immediately started to babble nonsense, which I pretended to understand until Oliver saved me. Watching them play together made me realize how much I had missed when I’d run away from family obligations.

  “So, Garrett, do you have a girlfriend?” Tabitha boldly asked once we were seated for dinner. I choked briefly on a bite of chicken, surprised at her question.

  “No,” I answered after taking a moment to catch my breath. They just stared at me.

  “A boyfriend?” Oliver asked cautiously, which instantly made me laugh.

  “No. There’s no one. I’m too busy, and I’ve seen too many of my buddies have their hearts broken during deployment.” I paused momentarily as Cami’s face flashed in my mind. Should I even bother to mention her? “But … I kind of met someone recently.”

  Tabitha and Oliver exchanged smiles, which made me embarrassed. “How did you meet?” Tabitha wasn’t shy about prying.

  “She’s a friend of Palmer’s. Her name is Cami.”

  “Tell us about her,” Tabitha urged me excitedly.

  “I don’t know that much about her really. But I’m hoping to change that when I go back to Gig Harbor.”


  Oliver looked sick when I mentioned leaving. “I talked to Dad today, Ollie. I promised him I would come back when my current enlistment is done.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Oliver muttered quietly.

  “I’m not going to come back and take over. You’ve done an amazing job, and I’d never do that to you. But maybe I help manage the vineyard?”

  Oliver nodded but most importantly, he looked relieved. “That’s great news, Garrett. We can discuss it when you come back for good.”

  “Of course. I’m excited for us to finally work together, Ollie.”

  “Me too, Garrett.”

  A few days later, as I sat on the plane back to Gig Harbor, I felt content. I was proud of the decisions I was making for my future. I was done running from my family, from my grief, and from my father. But there was still time for one last selfish pursuit.

  Palmer picked me up from the airport the next day and informed me that it was “beach bonfire” night.

  “Relax,” he said, holding his hand out. “It’s just Jackson and Nikki and Cami.”

  Nikki and Cami? That was trouble waiting to happen. “So what’s the deal between you and Cami?” I was clearly fishing for more information because, even though I’d heard Cami turn him down, I wanted him to tell me that there was nothing going on.

  “We’ve been best friends since we were little. Our dads own a company together, so we were always around each other.”

  “Did you ever date?”

  “No. I tried, though. Lord, did I try …” he trailed off as we neared Tacoma.

  “So, what? You’re just giving up?”

  “How many times can a man hear the word ‘no’ from a woman before he moves on? It’s time to cut my losses with her.”

  I shrugged but didn’t add anything because I didn’t want to make him suspicious. Ask for forgiveness later, I told myself.

  We arrived at his house after making a few stops along the way. The sun was just beginning to set, and there was a slight chill in the air. It was the perfect night for a beachside bonfire.