by Kelly Utt
Marcheline fumed at her daughter’s flippant attitude. She wondered what she could say to make Sabine understand, short of the truth. Because telling her the truth wasn’t an option right now.
“It’s not the same. I grew up and found myself in a completely different situation than anything you’ve ever known. Then I got us out. You and me. To save us. My past holds real danger, Sabine. I keep it from you to protect you and your family. But there’s no reason for you to keep things from me. I’ve been a good mom to you. I don’t deserve to be treated this way.”
“Yeah, well, I think it is the same,” Sabine replied. “I've been a good daughter to you. And there’s nothing you could tell me at this point in time that Ryan and I couldn’t handle.” She leaned further forward towards her Mom. “Are you afraid? Is that it? Are you sure it isn’t you who needs protected instead of me?”
A tear formed in Marcheline’s eye as she considered her daughter’s question. She was afraid. She knew it. She had lived with her fear for many years. Not only that, it hurt her to quarrel with her daughter. They had always been close and had gotten along well. Marcheline didn’t want this issue to put a wedge between them, especially now that baby Amelie was in the picture.
“If I told you. We’d all need protected. We’re safe the way I have things set up. But if you go upsetting that equilibrium, I don’t know what we will do.”
At her wit’s end, Sabine stood up and took little Amelie out of Marcheline’s arms. “I just lost my appetite. Let me know when you’re ready to have a serious discussion, adult to adult. Until then, I’ll see what I can find out on my own.”
Then Sabine left the cafe and left Marcheline alone, without even eating her sandwich.
3
Marcheline asked for the food to go, deciding to take Sabine’s sandwich back for Rande. She silently cursed Chester Loor and everyone else involved who had forced her to flee and start a new life. Things would have been so much easier if she could have stayed home in Evanston, able to enter adulthood with the support of her parents and childhood friends. Although on the other hand, Marcheline would have missed out on some glorious aspects of current life. Her thoughts on the topic were a mishmash of gratitude and regret.
As Marcheline climbed into her Land Rover and set out on the drive back to Maison du Vin, she let herself imagine how things might have been.
Illinois was different from Northern California, to put it mildly. But Marcheline could have seen herself attending college there, just as she’d done out West. There were plenty of good universities in the Chicagoland area, and she could have seen herself studying business at any of them. She seemed to have a natural aptitude for the field. But Marcheline knew she wouldn’t have landed at a winery if she’d graduated from college in Illinois. Grapes just aren’t grown in that region. Maybe she would have opened a brewery instead. Or a restaurant. Or even a bakery, like her parents. She wondered if she would have gone on to the same level of success that she had with Maison du Vin. Much of her business’ growth had been bolstered by the strong tourism industry in the wine country region. Tourists came to Chicago, of course. But it wasn’t the same. Rosemary Run was a coveted spot for high-end travelers who wanted to spend a lot of money. And Marcheline knew how to wow them. In addition, she had an affinity for wine and for the aesthetic of the rolling hills of a vineyard. She had always thought there was something refined and elegant about the setting, and it suited her. Considering where she’d come from and all she’d been through, Marcheline wore her current elegant lifestyle as a badge of honor. She liked to think it harkened back to her Parisian roots.
If she were in Evanston right now, she would have been cold. The city often saw its first snow this time of year. If Marcheline lived there, she’d be bundled up in winter clothes, complete with a scarf wrapped around her neck and pulled up to shield her nose and mouth from the aggressive cold. It was a very different climate from the one she enjoyed in Rosemary Run. But each climate had its benefits. Snow had been a lot of fun to experience as a kid. Marcheline would have liked for Sabine to share that experience. The only time Sabine had seen real snow had been on trips to the Sierra Nevada mountains. It was an entirely different thing to have snow fall on your own roof and your own front stoop then it was to take a trip to see it. And Marcheline wished the same for little Amelie. The thought of that baby girl bundled up in a warm Halloween costume was almost too much cuteness to handle. Add Oktoberfest along the shores of Lake Michigan plus brilliant leaves forced down by the first winter wind of the year and the thought made Marcheline downright homesick.
She wondered what her parents would say if she ever showed up on their doorstep a quarter of a century later. Would they be angry and slam the door in her face? Would her mother fall apart and drop to the floor in tears? Her mom and dad were both still alive. Marcheline knew because she had searched the Internet for them from time to time. Although, she felt badly every time she did, knowing that they couldn’t do the same to find out about her. Her parents had no way to know that she was safe, or even still alive. Marcheline knew it must have been a terrible thing for them to face. She wasn’t even sure what they thought had happened. As best she knew, her parents would have considered her missing. At least, they would not have had reason to presume her dead. They must have assumed she just ran away. Even though it was the truth, Marcheline hoped her parents might consider that there had been extenuating circumstances. She hoped they would have known their daughter well enough to realize she wouldn’t make such a decision lightly.
Marcheline wished she could be as sure about personal matters as she was about business. Her lack of savvy in interpersonal relationships often embarrassed her. Her social development had been arrested in her teens. Especially when it came to romantic relationships, Marcheline knew she was a mess.
Her relationship with Leonard was a prime example. He was a good man. He had a successful career and lived a balanced life. Leonard jogged every morning, kept his house clean, and was trustworthy and reliable to all who knew him. He had been too wrapped up in his career to marry or have children, but that didn’t mean there was anything wrong with him. He was as good of a catch as any, and he understood what it was like to run a business that afforded him personal wealth. At least Marcheline knew he wasn’t after her money, she reasoned. They were both at a point in their careers where they could slow down and branch out into personal pursuits they previously been too busy to try. The two of them shared a lot of common interests, including hiking, French movies, and hot air balloon rides. On paper, they were a perfect match.
Marcheline and Leonard had been quietly dating for several months. She had been happy with their arrangement until recently, when Leonard decided he wanted more. Seemingly out of nowhere, he had told Marcheline he loved her and that he wanted them to move in together. He was tired of keeping such a low profile in her life and wanted to be front and center. He was ready to meet her family and for her to meet his. He had even mentioned the possibility of a wedding proposal in the not too distant future.
Marcheline realized that any healthy and functional woman in her position would have been thrilled with this natural progression. But she wasn’t any healthy and functional woman. The very thought of what Leonard proposed made her go all weak and clammy. It was as if her body rejected his advances before her heart or mind had a say. She wasn’t sure how she could ever move through the steps necessary for their relationship to move in the direction he wanted it to. Her trauma still had a grip on her, and it held her back.
As Marcheline pulled into her regular parking spot out front of the winery, she noticed a familiar vehicle next to her in the lot. She got out, carrying the sandwiches, and she walked around the back of the familiar vehicle. Sure enough, it was Jim Bennett’s red Jeep Wrangler. The top was off and his favorite sunglasses were sprawled out on the dash. Marcheline had discouraged both Jim and Leonard from visiting her at work, mostly because they could bump into each other. Neither man knew a
bout the other. She hadn’t professed her devotion to either, and she hadn’t promised exclusivity. But she knew it would hurt feelings if Jim or Leonard were to find out she was seeing someone else.
Hesitantly, Marcheline walked inside, past the reception desk towards her office. She didn’t see Jim waiting in the chairs out front, so she knew someone must have shown him to a more private space. She pulled her smart phone out of her pocket to text Rande, hoping to avoid an awkward situation. But before she could, Rande stepped out of the conference room door, closing it snuggly behind him.
“Welcome back, Ma’am,” he said in his characteristic drawl. “You have a visitor.”
“Shush,” Marcheline implored, pulling her friend to the side. “We need not make a spectacle.”
Rande didn’t reply, but he raised his eyebrows as his mouth moved into a smirk. He was enjoying this.
“Fine. We’ll pretend there isn’t a young, blonde high school teacher waiting for you in the conference room. Just be glad I didn’t take him into your office where he could gawk at all your stuff.” Rande explained. “Hey, did you bring something back for me?”
“Leave it to you to move right past my distress and onto the topic of lunch,” Marcheline said with a grin.
“That’s right,” Rande replied. “I have my priorities straight.”
Marcheline handed one bag to Rande, still smiling. Their friendship always boosted her spirits. “Chicken salad. It was supposed to have been Sabine’s, but she saw herself out before the food arrived at the table. Figured I might as well bring it back for you rather than let it go to waste.”
“My good fortune,” Rande said. “You know I’d never let a sandwich to go to waste. Sabine’s loss is my gain. I’ll take it.” Rande winked, then took the sandwich back to his office, leaving Marcheline to tend to Jim Bennett.
4
Marcheline opened the door of the conference room slowly, leaning only her head inside. There was Jim, fiddling with this smartphone. He was probably playing some juvenile game. He hadn’t progressed all the way through the teenage stages of development, as far as Marcheline could tell. Perhaps that was why he related so well to his students. And perhaps that’s why the two of them were attracted to each other. Marcheline had read enough self-help articles to know that people from dysfunctional childhoods often paired up. Misery loves company.
Jim was wearing casual clothes. Even more casual than he normally wore to teach at school.
“Hello, Mr. Bennett,” Marcheline said softly. A broad smile spread across Jim’s face as he laid eyes on her. “Come on. Follow me,” she instructed.
“On it,” Jim replied. He stood up eagerly and trotted along behind Marcheline as if she were a mama duck.
Marcheline hated to feel embarrassed of Jim’s age and immaturity, but she did. They had a lot of fun together. But Jim wasn’t who Marcheline thought she was supposed to be dating. He was in his late twenties, much closer to her daughter's age than her own.
Once they were both in Marcheline’s office and the door was closed, she set the carry-out bag on her desk and turned to face Jim.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you. Why else would I be here?”
His attention made Marcheline pause. She wasn’t comfortable when a romantic partner lavished praise on her.
“I’m glad,” she replied. “But I thought we said you weren’t going to come to my office. I like to keep my personal life separate from my work life.”
Jim took a step towards her. “You and Rande hang out together all the time.”
“That’s different. Rande and I are friends.”
Jim took another step towards Marcheline playfully, reaching one arm around her waist. “But we’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Stop, now,” Marcheline said feebly, feigning resistance.
“I mean it. We’re very good friends, I might add,” Jim said as he pressed his body up against Marcheline’s. She could feel his breath. Jim had the muscles of a surfer dude, that was for sure. Being so close to him made Marcheline aroused.
“Come away with me,” Jim whispered, the words dancing around her ear.
“What are you even talking about?” Marcheline asked, leaning her arms against his chest. It was a defensive pose, but one that left open the possibility of relaxing her guard.
“Come away with me,” he repeated. “East Valley High is on fall break this week. My schedule is wide open until next Monday. Come away with me.”
Marcheline lowered her eyebrows, assessing Jim’s face to see if he was serious. It was a preposterous idea. She had a winery to run. She rarely took time off, let alone to go on vacation. And besides, they had barely been seen in public together. They weren’t officially dating, no more than she and Leonard were. Still, his offer with tempting.
“Think about it, will you?” Jim asked. “Just the two of us without obligations or responsibilities, cruising down the open road. We could head west to the ocean. Maybe spend a week at a little bungalow by the beach?”
“Let me guess,” Marcheline said. “You surf?”
“Not a lot, but yeah, I do.” Jim replied. “Why? You want to learn?”
“I don’t know about that,” Marcheline said. “This old girl might be too old for new tricks like surfing.”
“Nonsense,” Jim said as he pulled Marcheline more tightly against him. “First of all, you’re not old.”
“Older than you. You know I could be your mama. Doesn’t that ever bother you?”
“Not in the least. I don’t know any mamas as hot as you. Have you seen yourself? You’re gorgeous.”
Marcheline swooned. She was trying to resist, but Jim’s charms were working. “I’m serious,” she added. “I can’t just get away like that. Especially without notice. If I were to go out of town, it would take me a couple of weeks of prep just to make sure everything was done properly in my absence. I’ve worked too long and too hard to be careless with my business. You’re a doll, Jim, but I don’t think you understand my level of responsibility.”
Marcheline bristled at her own words. She immediately wished she could take them back, because she heard how condescending they sounded. Jim didn’t seem phased.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s problem solve. Come on, I’ll help you think through it. Can’t Rande step up and fill in? He’s worked with you for a long time now and seems very capable. Oh, I know! You could hire somebody from a temp agency to help Rande out. That way, the workload wouldn’t be so heavy on him.”
Marcheline appreciated Jim’s enthusiasm, but he was beginning to irritate her. He had no idea what running a successful business was like. It was presumptuous of him to think he could begin to advise her on how to handle hers. He was just a high school teacher. He was way out of his depth.
Adding force to her arms, which were still positioned in between the two of them, Marcheline pushed Jim away. “This has been lovely, Jim, but I really need to get back to work,” she said as she walked over and sat down behind her desk. “Thank you for the invitation, but I won’t be able to go away with you at this time.”
Jim looked at the floor, disappointed. He shook his head slowly. “You know you have a problem, right?” he asked. Marcheline clammed up, barely holding eye contact. “You’re so scared of a real relationship that you’re willing to push a good one away when it’s right in front of you. Have you ever even been in love? You talk about how young I am like it’s a bad thing, but I have. I know what love is. I’m trying to show it to you.”
Marcheline crossed her arms over her chest in another defensive pose. She didn’t want to hear this any more than she wanted to hear Sabine’s talk about her perceived inadequacies. “That will be all, Jim. Thank you.”
He took a breath, quickly realizing he would not get anywhere with Marcheline if he kept this up. He liked her. He didn’t want to push her away. And he didn’t want to offend her.
Without saying a word, Jim walked behind Marcheline’s chai
r and placed his hands on her shoulders. He began to rub her shoulders and neck, kneading skillfully to release the kinks where tension was stored. Marcheline half-heartedly tried to resist, but was so wound up that her body wanted the release. She knew she needed to relax, and Jim’s touch was just the thing to help her do exactly that.
“That’s the spot,” Marcheline mumbled.
Jim let his hands wander around the front to Marcheline’s collarbone, then he slid his hands inside her blouse and over her ample bosom.
“I know a few other spots I can touch that might help you relax,” he whispered as Marcheline arched her back in response.
“Are you trying to seduce me?” she breathed.
“I don’t know. Is it working?” Jim asked as he let one hand travel all the way down below the waistline of Marcheline’s pants.
Wrapped up in the heat of the moment, Marcheline stood quickly then pushed a button to close the shades on her picture window. She glanced at her office door to double check that it was locked. Satisfied they wouldn’t be interrupted, Marcheline unbuttoned her blouse and pressed herself hard against Jim, kissing him deeply as he removed her silky pants and lifted her onto the desk in front of him.
His bodily response to her exposed skin was immediate, and Marcheline appreciated the vigor and vitality of a younger man. They fumbled with buttons and zippers, mouthing each other hungrily, until they both reached a climax, moaning with relief
5
“Whoa. That was hot,” Jim remarked, sounding more and more like a surfer dude all the time. He moved through the process of zipping and buttoning in reverse as he pieced his clothing back together. “I think I get the message. Less talking and planning, and more of that.”
Marcheline sighed as she buttoned her own blouse, careful to tuck everything back in like it was. “It isn’t that simple.”