“Oh no! But there must be a way to make the farm work—give me a minute to think,” Beau said, peering into the car next to Diane.
“Perhaps you should think seriously about selling the farm as soon as possible?” Diane said. “You can move in with me in L.A. and take some time to plan your next move. Hey, we could go into business together!”
“Doing what? I make a mean soft-boiled egg, but that is where my culinary skills end.” Charlotte dropped her chin down to her chest in a despondent sulk. That was when she noticed that the ladybug had cocked her head and was looking directly at her from the dashboard.
“The farm, thankfully, is paid in full, and I’ve begun the title transfer process. And great BFFs think alike. In fact, I’ve arranged for a realtor to drop by for an assessment in the morning. We’ve got no time to waste,” she said, starting the car. “That farm has got to be in tip-top shape for a sale. You’ve got the address; I’ll meet you up there.”
Chapter Two
The drive wound through beautiful countryside, and twice Charlotte pulled to the side of the road to take in the view. The mountains dictated how the crops should be planted, their sides giving the impression of an undulating flow of lush green and brown tones. The fields were alive and gliding across the hills. At one side she spotted a grove of coral trees, each with a thick trunk that supported a virtual ecosystem of extraordinary networks of flowers with bright orange petals. Mountain lilac shrubs grew wild around a vineyard, and yellow ginkgo trees dotted the horizon. She surprised herself with how much she remembered from her one trip to the farm as a kid. Her great-uncle had made all parts of nature seem magical, and his tutelage must have stuck.
Simon and Garfunkel came on the radio, softly singing one of Charlotte’s favorites.
“It takes your breath away, doesn’t it?” Charlotte said to the ladybug studying her expressive face. “You need a name … Mrs. Robinson seems just about right for a beautiful girl like yourself,” Charlotte added, and then wondered if she had in fact lost her mind.
She had never said much more than “shoo” and “go away” to an insect before in her life. Yet the red and black polka-dotted bug with one yellow spot seemed to have understood exactly what she’d said, and Charlotte imagined that she was smiling—although she’d need a magnifying glass to see it.
As Charlotte continued the drive, she wrestled with encroaching guilt for entertaining the thought about unloading her great-uncle’s beloved farm to the highest bidder. She knew that people in California talked about karma and mojo, and while she never thought of herself as being the least bit superstitious, she still was not comfortable tempting fate.
But what can I do?
Finally, Charlotte turned off the road and arrived at a plateau carved into the hills. She parked under a big shade tree, stepped out of the car, and was lured by the old stone wall that surrounded the property. It seemed so safe up here. In the background were verdant, rolling hills in all directions. Their protective arms made everything inside them feel serene and private.
Uncle Tobias, you sure made a beautiful farm.
The property extended in steppes down the sides of the plateau, on two levels. At the second tier were the fields brimming with awakening fruits and vegetables. At the very back stood an orchard of apple and pine trees. Also on that level, Charlotte noted an animal stable, a barn, and an outside paddock. Tractors and other farm equipment sat idle, some seeming to be in mid-repair. The next level down held a modest house with front and backyards and a side vegetable garden. There was also a series of glass hothouses that ran alongside the garden.
The main house had the feel of an old rancho hacienda, but with two stories. In fact, given the shape it was in, it probably was the original house. It sprawled in a “T” shape across the property, surrounded by a painted brick exterior veranda supported by wooden posts. Rustic-looking swings were suspended from the roof’s beams, and rockers provided relief from the sun while still affording the opportunity to be outdoors. French doors every five feet or so gave many options for entering the house. Charlotte wondered if the interior was in the same shape. The roof was made of clay tiles, more than a few of which were broken or missing. Several ducks and their fluffy offspring roamed freely around, pecking at seeds and grains and the occasional snail. To the very far side, Charlotte spotted a swimming lake that was almost drained and a broken-down boat dock.
I wonder how big a deal it would be to at least fill it? Everyone loves looking at water, and that could help push a quick sale … I bet the ducks would become my best friends.
Charlotte could hear voices and followed the sound. She’d called ahead to let the caretaker know when she would be arriving, and he’d promised to be there to greet her. At the side of the farmhouse, she spotted a woman unloading groceries and supplies from a flatbed truck.
“Here, let me help you with that,” a man said, grabbing a box of groceries. “They should be here any minute, and we want the place to look as good as it can.”
Charlotte saw Diane and Beau pull in, and waved to them. While Beau began unloading the car, Diane got out and did a twirl and then skipped her way toward Charlotte.
“I wish we’d had more notice,” Charlotte heard the woman reply. “Oh, I saw Wade Avery and his hooligan brother when I was in town. He made a snide comment about seeing the new owner and how she won’t last five minutes here. He said that he’ll be running the place in no time.”
“When pigs fly, Alice. I know that he can be intimidating, but just ignore him.”
“Wow, this farm,” Diane whispered as she arrived beside Charlotte. “Just ‘wow.’”
There goes Diane, falling in love. She does it so easily.
Beau joined the girls. “It’s a good thing we’re not going to need to learn how to operate all those things,” he said, eyeing the farm equipment.
“We probably won’t … if we sell the farm,” Charlotte pointed out.
Although it would be a fun challenge.
“Oh, come on, I think it would be great fun!” Diane swung a fist into the air and grinned.
She looks like she could finish plowing the back forty by dinner. Diane either loves things or hates them.
All of a sudden, they saw a skein of geese burst out from the orchard. Something had spooked them. She could see rustling in the far end of the field and wondered if they had any problems with coyotes or, worse, poachers.
“One of you must be Charlotte,” said the man she’d seen helping with the groceries. He looked from Diane to Charlotte for confirmation.
“Guilty as charged,” Charlotte replied, and introduced Diane and Beau. “And you are Mr. Joe Wong, correct?”
He nodded. Joe looked to be in his early forties, not particularly tall, but muscular like the boy selling strawberries that she’d seen in town. When he smiled, he dipped his head a tad and made direct eye contact with the person or persons he was interacting with at the moment. The gesture exuded a warmth and a kind of immediate intimacy.
“Pleased to meet you Charlotte, Diane, Beau. I am the caretaker here, and my wife— Alice, here—keeps us clean, fed, and happy.”
Alice gave Charlotte a warm smile, but Charlotte detected a look of apprehension behind those eyes. Unlike her husband’s, Alice’s eyes were never still, but darted from person to place, trying to take in everything at once.
“So nice to meet you, Alice.” Charlotte gently shook her hand.
“We’ve been living on the farm for over eight years, working for your great-uncle. Our home is just down there on the bottom level of land,” Joe continued.
“We’re very happy here. Your uncle was such a kind man,” Alice spoke up. “I know that the place needs some work, and I’m happy to help in any way I can.”
“We’re going to need it—thank you, Alice. My friends will be staying the weekend to help me get settled in, and then I’ll be here until—well, I’ll be here to take care of things.”
Alice’s face h
ad gone from a smile to a tight mouth in under ten seconds.
“I’ve just returned from the market. The fridge is stocked, and I can make anything you want for dinner.” Alice tried to regain her congeniality. “Um, you have a bug on your shoulder Miss Charlotte.” She reached in to brush it off.
“Don’t,” Charlotte yelled before she could stop herself. Alice recoiled.
“Alice, I’m so sorry. It’s just that …” Charlotte realized that anything she could offer them as an explanation for her outburst would just certify her as being, well, a little crazy. She’d introduce them to Mrs. Robinson in due time.
“How about we go inside and take a gander, shall we?” Beau broke the tension.
“Of course. Let me give you a tour of your farmhouse.” Joe stepped up. “I know it could use a thorough once-over, but in its heyday it was a thing of beauty and very homey. Your great-uncle Tobias would entertain the entire valley when the crops were good to us.”
“Like a barnyard bacchanalia—I love that! Let’s throw one, Charlotte,” Beau urged her.
Joe seems kind and thoughtful, something Uncle Tobias must have appreciated.
As Charlotte entered the great room, she admired the majestic river rock fireplace, also missing some rocks but stunning all the same. Wood beams on the ceiling and Mexican pavers on the floor gave the place a rustic but cozy feel. The open floor plan afforded a view into the kitchen with its “L”-shaped, tiled countertops and dark wood cabinets. The comingling of Spanish accents and natural, “found” building materials made her appreciate the skills and care that had been put into creating the house.
Don’t go getting attached, Charlotte. This place is going up for sale.
“This has a lot of potential,” Diane whispered to Charlotte. “I’m starting to feel optimistic about a quick sale,” she added a little too loudly.
“If you don’t need me right now, I’ll go to the cellar. I’m stocking up on jars of jams and fruit, and I was in the middle of labeling them before I went to town.” Alice didn’t wait for a response and disappeared toward the back of the entryway.
Charlotte almost went after her to once again apologize. Her emotions were getting the best of her. This had already been a long day, and she’d had her future life waft in the breeze and shape-shift at least a handful of times so far. She looked around the foyer, and a wave of memories washed over her. She’d spent one summer here when she was nine, and thinking back, she was sure that it had been the imprint year that had sparked her creativity. She’d been free to let her imagination run wild, and boy, did she. Charlotte admired the long, wooden banister that led to the second floor, and remembered sliding down it on her belly while letting out laughs that echoed throughout the cavernous space. She remembered Tobias applauding her athleticism; a pair of hounds or sometimes a goose or a barn cat always flanked him. As long as they behaved themselves, he had no problem letting certain livestock roam freely in the house. He commanded respect from his animals.
Suddenly, she saw the French doors at the back of the house push open, and in came a squealing, soft, pink baby pig. Charlotte watched the pig pick up speed and skid across the Mexican pavers, legs akimbo, until he slammed into her, causing her to join him on the floor.
“Oh my,” Charlotte said, trying to both stop the pig from licking her so she could assess any physical damage from the charge.
“That damn pig,” boomed a voice belonging to a tall, dark-haired, lanky man in jeans and a white T-shirt. His work boots clomped across the floor as he moved swiftly and swooped up the animal by the back of the neck. He swept back a rather long and thick tress of straight hair that fell into place and shined like polished obsidian. She was then able to notice his high forehead; aquiline nose; and warm, almond-shaped green eyes.
“Apologies for his bad manners—he’s too smart for his own good. You must be the new owner,” the man said, staring down at her. The pig was still trying to escape his grasp by walking in mid-air.
“This is our amazing farm expert, Samuel Brown,” Joe said, introducing him. “And you are correct: this lovely lady is our new proprietress, Charlotte Finn.”
Samuel nodded to her and exited with the pig the same way he had entered, leaving Charlotte on the floor where she lay.
“It appears that more than one member of the denizens here are in need of etiquette lessons. Let me help you up.” Beau quickly came to the rescue.
“He’s a man of few words, but your uncle Tobias never stopped appreciating his fine work,” Joe explained.
Just outside the French doors, Charlotte caught a last glimpse of Farmer Brown and watched him walk away with a slight limp.
Way to make a first impression, Farmer Brown …
They moved to the counter around the kitchen, and Charlotte laid out her plans to Joe over coffee. Diane and Beau went upstairs to claim their bedrooms.
“I want to be straightforward with you from the beginning, Joe. I am honored that my great-uncle remembered me in his will, and it so happens that I was in the midst of changing careers anyway when I was notified. I am ready to give this the old college try, but this is all very new to me. If I can’t make a go of this, then I will consider selling the farm to someone who can.”
“It is in your blood, Miss Charlotte. I can tell by the way you are with the animals and by the look in your eyes when you admire the nature around you.”
“You may be right, Joe, but I have so very much to learn. I know that you will help me.”
“As will Samuel,” Joe quickly added.
“We’ll see about that. He wasn’t exactly welcoming me with a brass band just now.”
“That’s just his way, as I explained.”
“So you did. There is one other request I have for you, Joe.”
“Sure.”
“I need you to be entirely honest with me about the state of the farm, the challenges facing or standing in the way of success. Ways to improve our profitability. Any lingering issues with other farmers? I couldn’t help overhearing the conversation you had with Alice earlier. Who is this Wade man, and why would he say that he will be running my farm?”
“As I told my wife, you have nothing to fear from those Avery brothers. They’re all bark and no bite.”
Two months ago I would have taken a guy like Joe at his word, but not after Chicago. That bite is going to leave a mark for a long time.
“I would prefer that we address everything at once. You’ll probably want a day or so to pull together your thoughts on the state of the farm, and when you’re ready, let’s sit down and go through it. Feel free to include Farmer Brown if you think that it would be beneficial.”
“I can be ready tomorrow.” Charlotte could see that Joe was anxious to complete this task and get on with business as usual. She hoped that he wouldn’t sugarcoat his report.
“Take as much time as you need. I have arranged for a realtor to come by in the morning for an assessment of the property’s value, if for no other reason than to throw that into the mix of our overall evaluation of the farm.”
Just as Charlotte finished, she noticed that the pig had snuck back into the house and was hiding unsuccessfully behind a small ottoman that was not wide enough to conceal his wildly wagging tail. When he popped his head out for a peek and caught her eye, he tried to quickly squeeze himself back out of sight. Charlotte tried to stifle a laugh because she didn’t want the little guy to get another scolding from Farmer Brown. When she turned her attention back to Joe, she caught him deep in thought.
“Joe, while my great-uncle lived to a ripe old age, I understand that all this is still a shock to you and Alice and to the life you have enjoyed on the Finn Family Farm for almost a decade.”
“As the I Ching tells us, change is certain. But it also reminds us that if we are sincere, we will succeed.”
What a lovely man.
“If—and this is a big if—I determine that it is best to sell the farm to a more qualified and equitable buyer, Joe,
I want you to know that I intend to impress on the buyer to keep all the current staff in place or give them at least six-months’ notice. And I want to make sure that you are involved with the sales process so that they see how much of an asset you can be.”
Joe responded with an appreciative smile. “Thank you.”
Charlotte noticed that, beneath the counter, Joe’s knee was going up and down like a jackhammer on the stool. She hadn’t been quite convincing enough.
Alice returned to the kitchen and busied herself rolling out dough that had been kept cold for a pie. For a brief moment, she and Joe exchanged a look. Charlotte wondered if he was able to telegraph their future to her in those few seconds.
Charlotte’s stomach sunk like a rock. She’d always been mama-bear protective of her staff at the ad agency and worked overtime to ensure that bad things didn’t happen to good people. And yet that’s exactly what she’d put her staff through in Chicago.
That can never happen again. I will not let these kind people down.
“Since it’s clear that I am going to have to spend a few weeks getting the farm really ready for … for getting back on its feet, I guess I’ll get settled into my great-uncle’s bedroom.”
Charlotte was doing exactly what she’d asked Joe not to do. She was hiding the truth from Alice.
Why am I doing this? You cannot build trust with lies.
Charlotte hoped that Uncle Tobias, an avid reader, had a copy of I Ching in his library. She desperately needed to use the Book of Changes’ thousands of years of wisdom to help with her future.
“The bed is all freshly made, and the towels came out of the dryer a couple of hours ago. Please let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thank you, Alice—that’s so kind of you.”
Diane padded into the kitchen, surveying all the beautiful produce to play with, and volunteered to create a perfect light meal for everyone. With Alice’s permission, she quickly added. The two agreed to work side by side.
Dead on the Vine Page 2