Rosemary Run Box Set

by Kelly Utt

  Marcheline was a good boss. She offered higher than average wages, and she provided generous healthcare benefits and paid time off. Most of her employees had been with her for more than a decade, which she thought spoke to their loyalty and dedication to the business. If they hadn’t been happy, they wouldn’t have stayed. There were plenty of other wineries in the region they could have worked at instead.

  A collection of framed photos on top of Marcheline’s desk caught her eye every time she glanced up and out the picture window. Most of the photos featured her daughter, Sabine Fay. Sabine was everything to Marcheline, and she could not have been prouder of Sabine’s young family. Sabine and her husband, Ryan Martin, were parents to a healthy baby girl named Amelie. They lived less than five minutes away from Marcheline’s estate, and they all saw each other often. Being a grandmother was a greater joy than Marcheline had dared to wish. Family life was good, and they had the photos to prove it.

  Marcheline smiled as she glanced from one picture to the next. A square, silver frame held a photo from Sabine and Ryan’s wedding, the happy couple beaming with joy as they held up their shiny new wedding rings. A wooden frame next to it held one of Sabine’s senior photos from her high school years at East Valley High School. Another featured a five-year-old Sabine sitting on Marcheline’s lap as they posed by a Christmas tree, the warm glow of the decorative lights filling the frame. The framed photo beside it showcased a newborn Amelie, pink and healthy, a living symbol of their love and pride. Marcheline could get lost staring at those photos and thinking about how grateful she was for the happy life she had managed to create for her daughter and, by extension, for her baby granddaughter.

  Rande Floyd, Marcheline’s vice president and right-hand man at Maison du Vin, knocked on her office door, then popped his head inside. “Good morning, Ma’am,” Rande said with a crooked smile. Marcheline had told her associate he didn’t need to call her ma’am, but he insisted on doing it, anyway. It was part token of respect and part good-natured teasing. It had become a nickname.

  “Morning, Rande,” Marcheline said. “How are those sales reports coming?”

  Rande was a Caucasian man in his late fifties with sun-weathered skin that was beginning to look like leather. He had the air of an old cowboy. Despite his slow drawl, he was smart as a whip. He had been born and raised in Rosemary Run, then had spent two decades in Wyoming working on a cattle ranch. He had married late in life to a younger woman who ended up wanting to put down roots somewhere the kids could grow up knowing their grandparents. When Rande returned to town, Marcheline had been his first stop. He’d heard of the high standards at her winery and knew he wanted to be involved. It took a little convincing, but Marcheline quickly came to understand Rande’s charms. In the year since they’d been working together, they had become known as an odd couple in the local business community. On the surface, Rande and Marcheline seemed like opposites, but the differences in their backgrounds only served to benefit their partnership. Rande had a good head on his shoulders. Marcheline relied on him to be the voice of reason and to focus on practicality. He had not disappointed her.

  “So far, so good,” Rande said as he sat down in one of the plush yellow chairs in front of Marcheline’s desk. As usual, he looked out of place against her stylish office decor. Rande tapped one finger on his bottom lip like he always did when he was thinking. He tapped the toe of his polished cowboy boot in rhythm. “I’m pleased.”

  The company had recently begun exporting to Europe and Marcheline was eager to learn how the new exports were impacting the bottom line. The cost of shipping wine bottles overseas was enough to make her skeptical about the long-term viability of the new venture. She wanted to be sure Maison du Vin would earn enough to make the higher costs worth the trouble. It was the biggest risk she had taken in business.

  “Are we in the black yet?” Marcheline asked. “I know it will take some time to turn enough profit to offset the overseas shipping expenses, so I will await news of that victory patiently. But as you know, I tend to get on edge while I wait.” She looked at Rande, considering their situation. “You promised me this expansion would be a roaring success. Do you still stand by that?”

  “Promise is a strong way of putting it,” Rande said with a cautious grin. “But I’m doing my very best for you, Ma’am. You have my word on that.”

  “Good enough,” Marcheline confirmed. She knew Rande was indeed a man of his word and wouldn’t use the term promise lightly. “What else is happening this morning? Any updates on the harvest?”

  They both glanced out the picture window. Marcheline thought her new office reminded her of the bridge of a ship. It was a command center of sorts. She thought it an honor to sit at the helm.

  “Things are looking good out there, Ma’am,” Rande said in his deep, gruff voice. “I just ran the numbers and I project we will exceed last year’s harvest by a good margin.”

  “That’s fabulous news,” Marcheline replied. “Nothing would make me happier.”

  “Other than that grandbaby of yours,” Rande added. “How’s the little rugrat doing?”

  Marcheline laughed. “Right as usual, my friend,” she replied. She leaned back in her reclining chair, her curly hair billowing around her shoulders. “Little Amelie is just the best. I highly recommend getting a grandbaby of your own someday.”

  “Hey, now,” Rande replied. “I’ve got a ways to go before that happens. I’m still in the thick of the elementary school years with my own kids. Charisse stays busy with after-school activities, homework, and volunteering at the school.”

  Marcheline remembered those days like they were yesterday. “Charisse is a good one. You’re a lucky man.”

  “You don’t have to tell me. I know that like I know my own name. The only thing I don’t know is how I talked her into marrying me in the first place.”

  They laughed together. Marcheline appreciated the ease with which she and Rande could converse.

  In addition to being colleagues, Marcheline and Rande were true friends. Rande understood Marcheline and everything she had been through like few other people did. Over the years they’d worked together, they had spent a lot of hours talking. Marcheline had even told him a good deal about her life before moving to California. In fact, she had told him more than she had her closest girlfriends. Something about Rande made him easy to talk to. He seemed trustworthy, like he’d take your secrets to his grave. He was old-school like that.

  “Speaking of lucky men,” Rande continued. “How are things going with the new guy? Hasn’t he been around long enough now that I might get some details?”

  “What?” Marcheline asked, lowering her head and pretending not to know what he was talking about. “You’re the only man in my life, Rande. Well, other than Limbo the coonhound, that is.”

  “And you still don’t think there is a deeper meaning behind the fact that you named your dog Limbo?” Rande asked. “Maybe the name reflects the status of your love life?”

  Marcheline chuckled. “I told you, Rande. I named him after the limbo dance. It was innocent, I promise.”

  “Okay, then,” Rande muttered. “Are you trying to convince me? Or yourself?”

  “Oh, hush.”

  “Certainly, Ma’am,” Rande teased. “Just as soon as you tell me about the new guy, I’ll stand up and march right back down to my own office, where I’ll remain for the rest of the morning, hushed. And that’s a promise.”

  Marcheline was guarded about her love life. During Sabine’s childhood, she hadn’t dated at all. Marcheline hadn’t felt like she was available to give herself to someone in that way. She hadn’t trusted herself, and she didn’t want to get Sabine mixed up in any unnecessary drama. And besides, it wasn’t as if she had a good track record. She hadn’t had a successful romantic relationship in her entire life. Business, she could figure out. Romance was a lot trickier.

  “Alright. Fine,” Marcheline said reluctantly. “You talked me into it. But Rande, I want
you to keep this between us.”

  “Oh, nice,” he replied, standing up and shuffling over to shut the door. “That must mean it’s good. I’m all ears, Ma’am.”

  Marcheline could feel her face getting warm at the thought of talking about her love life. She wished she had more experience. She wished she didn’t feel like a middle schooler at her first dance.

  “It’s embarrassing, Rande.”

  “No need to be embarrassed. It’s just me you’re talking to you. What’s his name?”

  “His name… is Leonard. Leonard Dawson.”

  “Okay,” Rande replied. “We’re off to a good start. Where did you meet Leonard Dawson?”

  Marcheline ran her thumb along the armrest of her chair nervously as she talked. “At a Chamber of Commerce meeting, actually. He’s a banker.”

  Rande opened his eyes wide and raised his eyebrows. “Highfalutin,” he said with a laugh. “That might be good. Someone who can keep up with you.”

  “Just what is that supposed to mean?” Marcheline asked, teasing back.

  “You know what it means,” Rande replied. “What does he look like? And how old is he? Tell me the basics.”

  Marcheline closed her eyes as she pictured Leonard’s face. “He’s tall, dark, and handsome. I’m not sure exactly how old he is, but around my age.”

  “How dark are we talking?”

  “Skin tone like mine,” Marcheline said, amused.

  “Does he wear a fancy watch? Like the ones bankers always wear in movies?”

  “I guess so, yeah,” she replied. “He’s serious and intense. Very dedicated to his career. But he’s nice. We have fun together.”

  “I see. Have you done the horizontal mambo yet?”

  “Rande!” Marcheline exclaimed, her face getting hotter. “You have no shame.”

  “I’m simply assessing the situation, Ma’am,” he replied. “So, have you?”

  Marcheline hesitated. She knew she could trust Rande, but she felt funny talking about sex. So far, she’d kept particulars about her dating life to herself. “Maybe,” she answered, coyly.

  Rande looked at her, wide-eyed with a smirk on his face. He was waiting, and he would not let her off the hook until she spilled more details.

  “Alright, alright,” Marcheline said. “Yes. But don’t you dare repeat that, Rande.”

  He gestured, as if zipping his lips. “It’s under lock and key.”

  “But that’s not the most surprising part of the story,” Marcheline said, winking.

  “Do tell, Ma’am. I won’t have a need to watch my afternoon soap operas after hearing all of this.”

  “You’re so silly,” Marcheline said. She knew Rande wouldn’t be caught dead watching an afternoon soap opera, which made his comment that much funnier. “The most surprising part… Is that there’s another man, too. I’m seeing them both.”

  “Would you look at you?”

  “His name is Jim Bennett.”

  “And what is he like?”

  “He is… A lot different from Leonard. Jim is a history teacher at East Valley High. And he’s pale as pale can be, with blonde hair and a man bun. He kind of reminds me of a middle-aged surfer dude. A Matthew McConaughey type.”

  “What do you know?” Rande mused. “I take it Leonard isn’t the surfer dude type.”

  “Not at all,” Marcheline said emphatically. “I’d be surprised if he spent much time outdoors. He wouldn’t want to get his expensive shoes dirty.”

  Rande laughed heartily now, placing one leathery hand over his belly. “Sounds like you’ve got quite the opposite ends of the spectrum in play here. I guess I can see you wanting to sample some different flavors at all. You’re still pretty new to this thing called dating.”

  “Is that what I’m doing? Sampling flavors?”

  “You tell me. How do they taste, Ma’am?”

  Marcheline grew embarrassed again. “You’re terrible,” she said to her friend. “But I guess you’re right. For whatever reason, I finally got up the courage to try dating. I suppose it feels like my life is stable enough now to try a few things and find out what I like. I’ll figure it out in time.”

  “That’s right, you will. And if any of these guys give you trouble, you let me know about it. You hear?”

  “That’s sweet, Rande. Do you realize you’re like a big brother to me? Like the big brother I never had. I sure could have used a big brother’s protection when I was a kid.”

  “I know it, Ma’am. If the position’s open, I suppose I’ll take it,” he replied with a smile. “Truth be told, I already think of you as a kid sister. At first, it was weird that you were also my boss. But we have the kind of friendship that will outlast our professional relationship. It’s all good. Don’t you think?”

  Marcheline crossed her hands in front of her as she smiled back at her friend. “Indeed, it is,” she replied. “All good. Now get back to your office and hush. Like you promised. I have work to do.”

  2

  “Yes, hello?” Marcheline answered as she picked up the phone on her desk. “You’ve reached Maison du Vin. Marcheline Fay speaking.”

  “Mom, it’s me,” Sabine said.

  “Oh, hello, my darling. What are you doing calling me on this line?”

  “I tried your mobile. It went straight to voicemail, which is full, by the way,” Sabine explained. “I wondered if you’d like to meet me and Amelie for lunch. Can you get away?”

  Sabine was accustomed to her mother's work taking up much of her attention. She knew not to assume Marcheline would be free, especially during harvest season.

  “That would be lovely. You know, I always like to see my baby girl and her baby girl. Let me just check my calendar,” Marcheline replied. “Where are you thinking?”

  “Somewhere quick is fine,” Sebine explained. “It won’t take long. How about Brick House Cafe? When we’re finished, I can get Amelie in the stroller and do some walking around downtown.”

  “Ah, I see. I can squeeze out an hour. Do you think that will be enough? I’d do more, but with harvest season, it’s difficult to get away for long.”

  “I understand,” Sabine confirmed. “You forget, I’ve been around for many harvest seasons over the years. All of them, actually. So, I get it. And yes, an hour should be enough.”

  Agreeing to meet her daughter mid-day, Marcheline hung up the phone. She leaned back in her chair, lost in thought.

  There had been times as Sabine was growing up when Marcheline had worried she was spending too much time at work, like her own parents had. She had done her best to carve out time with her child, but the demands of growing a business had often meant that parenting took a backseat or that Marcheline was forced to burn the candle at both ends. There had been many days when she had gone home to eat dinner with young Sabine and tuck her into bed, then had stayed up late working until well after midnight only to rise again early the next morning and make her daughter breakfast before school.

  Since it had been just the two of them, Marcheline had relied on friends who had become like family to fill in the gaps. A trusted sitter picked up any loose ends. But Marcheline had sometimes wondered how things would turn out for her daughter. She had feared Sabine might go looking for love and attention in the wrong places, much like Marcheline had done herself. She had wanted better for her child. She had focused as much energy as she possibly could on keeping Sabine from feeling lonely like she had. Thankfully, it appeared that Marcheline’s efforts had paid off, because not long after Sabine had finished her graphic design degree at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas and ventured into the professional world back home in Rosemary Run, she had chosen a life partner and father for her child who was upstanding and good.

  Ryan Martin was a Sanford-trained architect who worked for a reputable local firm in town. His expertise was cutting edge. He focused on green design for structures that were environmentally friendly. He was still young, in his late twenties, but he had already established a reputatio
n as a hard-working creative professional capable of handling both residential and commercial projects. Marcheline planned to have her son-in-law handle the remodel of the building slated to house a new wine store she aimed to open downtown. He had the chops. Marcheline knew she could count on him.

  When Sabine met Ryan and learned that he came from a large family, it had made Marcheline feel relieved and happy. Ryan’s family had lived in Rosemary Run for three generations. He boasted four siblings, two sets of grandparents, several aunts and uncles, and a slew of cousins, nieces, and nephews, all living nearby. Ryan’s family was friendly and welcoming. They’d taken Sabine in as their own in the three years she and Ryan had been together, and Marcheline by extension. Sabine and Ryan were a happy couple. It was the best outcome Marcheline could have wished for her daughter. It was far better than what Marcheline had experienced as a young woman. She thought Sabine’s hard-earned happiness was what life should be about, really. To work hard and provide a better life for your child, so that the challenges you faced aren’t even on their radar. Marcheline only wished Sabine understood that better.

  Lately, Sabine had been quick to criticize Marcheline’s decisions, and she seemed determined to dig up old skeletons from the past. Little did Sabine know, Marcheline would fight with everything in her to keep that history hidden. It was too dangerous to bring into the light. She told herself it would be easy to dissuade Sabine, just like it had been when she was a kid and she’d had her mind set on this or that. But deep down, Marcheline knew better. Sabine wanted answers. And she deserved them. Marcheline knew it would be a balancing act.

  Brick House Cafe was bustling when Marcheline arrived and placed her hand on one of the large silver door handles out front. Pumpkins flanked the entrance while colorful mums sat in rustic metal pots nearby. It was one of Marcheline’s favorite restaurants in town for a quick bite. The exposed-brick walls and city-village vibe had always appealed to her. The cafe had been built into the brick of a taller building and featured large windows around the front three sides. It reminded her a lot of the architecture back in Chicago.