“Good morning, Señora Julia. We hope you slept well,” Rafael Pasqual said, more as a question than a statement.
“Yes, thanks, Rafael. And yourself?”
“We’re here this morning to speak with you, Julia, about this coming Friday,” Mariela said, interrupting their interchange.
“Diego, Rafa, and I met last night to talk, and we decided no matter what, we’ll stay here to help you keep the winery going. We’ve spoken to the other workers, and other than Joaquin, who said he’d help as well, we haven’t received an answer as to where they stand.”
Diego noticeably kept quiet, his straw hat in his hand.
“We have children, Señora, so we’ll not be carrying any firearms,” Rafa continued. “But we’ll make sure our voices are heard loud and clear. This is as much our land as it’s yours. Not by ownership, of course, but by the toil of our hands.
“We know every fence post, every vine, and every grape from one end of your property to the next. It has been our livelihood, but also our deepest pleasure to work this land for your husband and now for you.”
“That’s right,” said Mariela. “You stood up for all of us. The least we can do is stand up with you.”
Julia could feel tears well up in her eyes. “You three are like family to me, closer even, especially since my own family now appears to care much less than they should for what Robert and his father built.”
Julia took a step toward them. “These two men hoped and prayed the winery would continue as a legacy to the people of this valley. I always thought they meant their customers and fellow merchants, but now I realize they wanted the business to continue for you, the workers, as much as for anyone else. I feel the same way, too. The Nooksack Valley Winery and Vineyard is as much yours as it is mine.”
Tears at last flowed down her cheeks. Diego slowly walked toward her and handed her a clean, white handkerchief from the hip pocket of his pants. “Do not cry, Señora. The time for crying is over. Finished. We merely wanted you to know you’re not alone, for you’re as much a part of our family as we are of yours.”
Julia quickly blew her nose and then began to giggle. “I guess I must be, otherwise who else but family would allow me to repeatedly blow my nose into their clean linen!”
~ ~ ~
Rafael and Mariela drew her into a hug, but Diego stood back. As much as he wanted to hold her in his arms, something within let him know this was neither the time nor place. Besides, he wasn’t sure once Julia was in his arms he could hold himself back from ravaging her mouth or caressing her firm body. Perhaps Mariela was right. They were but two lonely people starving for any trace of human touch. Yet it was clear he felt something for this woman far deeper than mere desire for bodily contact. Whether or not he’d act on that feeling was yet to be seen.
The moment abruptly ended with the ringing of the office phone. “I better get that.”
As Julia crossed the room to her desk, Rafael, Mariela, and Diego took their leave. The last to reach her office door was Diego, who turned, smiled, and then nodded, reassuring her all would be fine—that he, his family, and his workers would stand by her side when Friday rolled around. Julia nodded back as she spoke into the phone.
~ ~ ~
“Nooksack Valley Winery, Julia Reynolds speaking.”
“Hey, Julia. It’s Barbara. It took some doing, but the old goat said she’d have that copy of the deed in your hand no later than this coming Friday morning. If I can get it out to you sooner, I will. Okay?”
“Thanks, Barb. I owe you one.”
“Actually, you owe me a lot more than just one.”
Julia laughed. “You’re right. What I meant to say was, I owe you one more time for the many favors you’ve done for me over this last year.”
Barbara laughed as well. “Oh, stop. What’re friends for if not to be run ragged doing favors!”
Julia’s voice then grew serious. “I mean it, Barb. I couldn’t face all this without you and your endless support.”
“I know,” affirmed the sheriff. “How well I know!”
Chapter 7
For the next couple of days, Diego purposefully stayed away from Julia. Partly because a great deal of work had to be attended to in both the vineyard and the bottling plant. Also because he didn’t feel he could trust his actions should he end up alone in her presence. The irony was that more he stayed away from Julia, the more she invaded his thoughts and dreams.
It was an incredibly hot summer for northern Washington that year, and the only recourse the workers had to beat the heat was to keep the doors and windows open as long as possible at night, and then during the daytime hours to close everything up.
This made things tough for the children who were forced to stay indoors. Yet by the time the sun made its way over the Olympics, the ghost town of a compound came to life. By Thursday evening, Eduardo and Felicia could no longer stand it and found themselves drawn by the piano music coming from Julia’s home situated on the hill right above their apartment.
“Come on, Felicia. No one’s going to find out where we are,” Eduardo challenged.
“But mama said we weren’t supposed to bother the Señora anymore, not unless she invites us in.”
Eduardo rolled his eyes and sighed exaggeratedly. “You’re such a chicken, you know that? Bak! Bak! Bak!”
Felicia fisted her hands at her sides and answered angrily. “I’m not a chicken. You’re a chicken!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am not. Besides, you for sure wouldn’t be one if you’d come with me. No one will find out, I tell you. Come on!” Eduardo insisted.
Felicia had second thoughts but she wasn’t about to let Eduardo think she was anything but eager to get into trouble.
“All right, but let’s not stay too long or mama will start looking for us.”
“Yes!” Eduardo said as he double fist-pumped.
~ ~ ~
The two children tore up the road to Julia’s home and rang the front door bell. It took Julia a moment to pull her attention away from the new Chopin Opus 28 Prelude she was committing to memory and instead register that someone was at her door.
Her heart fluttered as she imagined it may be Diego. Then immediately sank as she guessed it could also just as well be James or even Duncan, for that matter. As she moved toward the front foyer, she heard two little voices calling her name.
“Señora Julia. It’s me, Eduardo.”
“And me, Felicia. Can we have a piano lesson now?”
Eduardo shook his sister’s arm and whispered, “You can’t come out and ask her that, dummy.”
“Ouch, you’re hurting me, Eduardo. I can so ask her if I want. You’re the dummy!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am . . .”
The door suddenly opened and Julia stood before them with stern look on her face. She actually felt like smiling, for even when these two argued, they were utterly charming.
“Did I hear the two of you fighting? I can’t allow children in my house if all they plan to do is fight with each other.”
The two children stood perfectly still with their mouths open in shock. Finally, Eduardo spoke. “We weren’t fighting, Señora. I was only instructing.”
Felicia turned her head to look at her brother and then back again to Julia. “Sí, he was only destructing me.”
Julia could only stifle a grin so long before giving up her stoic façade. “All right, you two. You may come in, but no more of this instructing and destructing. Do you understand?”
Before the children could answer, they were on the other side of the door, making a beeline toward the piano. Julia ducked quickly into the kitchen where she retrieved two super-sized oatmeal cookies from
a box someone had given her immediately after the funeral. Sweets were never actually her thing, but she was glad she had them to share with the two Pasqual children who sat reverently on her piano bench, looking up at the sheet music in front of them.
“Señora, this music looks hard. Can you read it?” asked Felicia.
“Of course, she can read it, dummy. She’s a famous pianist!”
Julia, from the kitchen, interrupted Eduardo before he could get started. “Now, remember what I said? No instructing or destructing, and absolutely no name calling. Comprender?”
The both answered simultaneously. “Si, Señora Julia. Entendemos!”
“Good. Now, I don’t suppose the two of you are at all interested in cookies, are you?” Julia asked as she made her way toward her dining room table.
“Sí, we’re interested in cookies, aren’t we, Felicia?” Eduardo elbowed his sister.
“Yes, we’re always interested in cookies, Señora.”
Julia smiled at their innocent enjoyment of such a simple thing as a cookie. “Well, come on then and sit at my big table. Would you like a glass of milk or lemonade with your cookie?”
“Limonada!” they both exclaimed as they ran to seat themselves at the beautiful Castilian, genuine teakwood table situated on the other side of the concert grand. Julia then placed the cookies in front of them.
She was on her way to the kitchen for the lemonade when the doorbell rang once again. Eduardo and Felicia froze. Like the children, Julia hoped whoever was at the door wasn’t their mother or father ordering them to come home.
“Hold on a moment!” Julia called. Quickly, she poured the two glasses of lemonade and handed them to the children. As she scuttled toward the door, she whispered, “It’s okay. You’re not in trouble. I’ll make sure of that!”
Julia prayed “Uncle” Diego was at last here to retrieve his niece and nephew. Hurriedly, she threw the door open, only to be surprised by the last person on earth she thought would appear. There standing before her was Gayle, her eyes as wide as Julia’s.
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Gayle asked timidly.
Julia shook her head and smiled. “No, not at all. Would you like to come in and join us for an oatmeal cookie and a glass of lemonade?”
Gayle smiled in return and nodded. “Don’t mind if I do!”
~ ~ ~
Diego looked forward to ending his work day by stretching his legs out and over the porch rail, knocking back an ice-cold cerveza or two. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but after a hard day like today, a cold beer was exactly what the doctor ordered. Before he could clock out, however, he needed to speak to Joaquin one last time before the next morning’s events.
As he entered the production house, Diego could see his friend speaking with his new assistant, Umberto Colon. If Diego wasn’t mistaken, it sounded as if the two were quarreling.
This was unusual, for in the few years of his employment at the winery Diego had never heard a sharp word or one single argumentative response from Joaquin. In fact, he was more often than not the voice of reason, the so-called peacemaker of the plant.
Not wanting to draw attention, Diego kept himself out of sight and pretended to busy himself with the labeling machine while standing within earshot of the two men.
“I already told you, Joaquin, I don’t want anything to do with this fight between Señor Reynolds and Señora Julia. As far as I can see, Señor James has as much right to do what he will with this place as the Señora does.”
“But think about your people, all the families who live and work here. Where will they go and what will they do if Señor Reynolds closes the winery? Huh?” Joaquin persisted.
“I don’t care!” Umberto spit out. “This work is temporary for me. I have bigger ideas for myself than toiling like some peon farm worker, or putting labels on bottles of overpriced wine. I’m here simply for the money, and then I’m gone!”
“Cabron!” Joaquin barked as he pushed the young whelp.
In turn, Umberto took a swing at Joaquin’s face, which took the older man by surprise and laid him out flat on the floor of the plant. Immediately, Diego put down what he was fiddling with and ran interference between the two.
“Hey, hey, Hey! No need for fighting, amigos!” he said.
“Mind your own business, Diego!” retorted Umberto.
“As long as you work here, you’re my business.”
“Well, that’s just great, isn’t it?”
“Come on, Umberto, calm down.” Diego reached out to set his hand on Umberto’s shoulder, but the young man shirked away and yelled, “Well, for your information, I quit.”
Joaquin struggled to sit up, his head spinning like a top. “You won’t get another job like this again, Umberto,” he said.
The kid only laughed. “Fine. I don’t need this job like you two do, sucking up to the gringa. You make me want to puke!”
It took everything Diego had not to punch the man out, but he knew violence in this case wasn’t the answer. Violence only begot more violence, until there’s nothing left to fight for. He reached down to help Joaquin return to his feet.
“Then I accept your resignation effective immediately, Umberto,” said Diego. “Good luck with your life. You’ll need it!”
Umberto grabbed his things and stormed out of the building, cussing all the way. As soon as he was several yards away, Joaquin turned to Diego and apologized.
“I’m sorry, Diego. Sometimes I can be a bit pushy.”
“Nah, it’s all right. With that kind of attitude it’s best he leave. But you, mi amigo, are too old for this kind of foolishness.”
Joaquin wiggled his jaw and laughed. “I think you’re right about that, Diego. But, as they say, ‘there’s no fool like an old fool.’”
Diego escorted his friend back toward his apartment in the compound barracks. It’d been a difficult day, and Diego was certain the next day was going to be even more so.
After seeing Joaquin to his door, Diego locked up the bottling barn and walked back to his own room. Looking up at the house on the hill, he again thought about the strong but lonely woman who lived there.
True, perhaps the winery was not any of his business either. Yet he’d give anything in this moment if somehow, someway he could make the woman inside that fortress of a house his business, and in the most intimate of ways imaginable.
~ ~ ~
As soon as Gayle entered the house, she was surprised to see two children seated at Julia’s formal dining table. Eduardo and Felicia were so thrilled it wasn’t one of their parents or Uncle Diego at the door that they grinned from ear to ear at the woman standing in front of them.
“Gayle, I’d like to introduce you to my two new students, Eduardo and Felicia Pasqual. Children, this is another Señora Reynolds.”
“How do you do?’ Gayle said and extended her arm for a round of handshakes.
“Mucho gusto!” the children answered and immediately went back to eating their cookies.
“Were you married to Señor Robert, too?” asked Felicia.
Gayle smiled. “No, I’m married to his brother, who’s another Mr. Reynolds.”
“Oh.” For a moment Felicia appeared a bit confused, but the answer must’ve sufficed, for she immediately went back to her cookie.
Gayle followed Julia into the kitchen. “Whose children are they?”
Julia placed a cookie on a napkin and handed it, along with the lemonade, to Gayle.
“The children belong to Mariela and Rafael. Robert told me they used to enjoy coming up to the house to hear him play his cello. Now that he’s gone, they’ve attached themselves to me. They do have a deep love for music, but I think they may come up here merely for the cookies, if you see what I mean.”
“Of course,
” Gayle sniggered. “If they’re anything like Jimmy and Bobbie, cookies override just about everything!”
Gayle could see Julia take a moment to assess her. “So what brings you out here to the winery on this hot and sticky night?” asked Julia.
Gayle took in a deep breath. “Two things, actually. First, I want to again apologize for the way James and I’ve been acting. In trying to appease him and his attitude toward Robert’s death and the winery, I’ve betrayed my own self. For that I’m deeply sorry.”
There, she said it. Now it was time to really eat humble pie.
“And second, I need a job. James and I have separated, and I absolutely cannot go back into that office. Especially now that I know James doctored the property deed. You live with a man nearly half of your life, and he still does things you’d never believe he was capable of.”
Julia stared at her sister-in-law, her mouth wide open. “You want to work at the winery?”
“Yes, if you can afford it. For the last ten years I’ve run the office for James—answering phones, opening the mail, dealing with public relations and such. I don’t need a lot of money, but I do need to make enough for gas and groceries. Besides, I’ve got to stay busy or I’ll fall apart.”
Julia put her arms around Gayle and hugged her close to her chest. “I’m so sorry, Gayle. You and James have been a couple as long as I’ve known the two of you.”
She then pulled away, smiled, and peered into Gayle’s tear-filled eyes. “How are you at accounting?”
Suddenly, Julia felt a tug at her trousers. It was Felicia.
“Señora, it’s getting late and mama will come looking for us soon. Eduardo and I have to leave now, but can we come back to visit you again tomorrow?”
Julia put her hands on the tops of each of the children’s heads. “Probably not tomorrow, but Saturday or Sunday perhaps. I’ll speak with your mama and papa to make sure that works for them, too.”
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