California Wishes
Page 27
Annie gave her son a hug. “Thanks, kid,” she said as tears welled in her eyes and a lump formed in her throat. It was true. She didn’t have to do it alone.
• • •
“What are you having?” Elizabeth asked as they settled into their chairs at the Costanoa Grill.
“Oh, since I’ve thrown all caution to the wind by quitting my job, I’m going to have the Alfredo with prawns.”
“Sounds yum. Wanna split?”
“Sure!”
They placed the order, along with a request for two Fogarty chardonnays and side salads.
“Let’s start with the important things,” Elizabeth said. “How was your date Friday night? Tell me everything!”
“I’m not going to tell you everything … ”
“That means something happened. Did you … ”
“It doesn’t mean anything. I don’t have to tell you every detail. And, no, it doesn’t mean we … ” Annie waved her right hand.
Elizabeth studied her. “You never were a very good liar, you know.”
Annie sighed. “We had a really fun time at the concert. Ellis Paul is a great entertainer. He inspired me so much that I got strings and restrung the guitar.”
“I can’t wait to sit at your first concert.”
“It’ll be a while. I’ve got to get some calluses first. My fingers are killing me.”
“And then what?”
“Then I’ll start learning to play again. Maybe try writing a song or two.”
“Ugh! You’re impossible. I mean then what happened after the concert?”
“Oh. All right. You’re right. He kissed me … and we … made love.”
“I can see it was good,” Elizabeth said dryly.
Annie jerked herself back to reality. “Um … yeah … it was good.” She could feel a huge smile cross her face. “Like I’m sure it’s good with you and Bobby.”
Elizabeth’s expression saddened.
“What’s up?” Annie asked.
Elizabeth picked up her chardonnay, took a sip, and placed the glass on her cocktail napkin, carefully aligning the glass’s bottom with the indentation on the napkin. She looked up at Annie, her large brown eyes damp.
“We broke up.”
“What?”
“He wants to be married, Annie, and I don’t. He’s running for district supervisor and we … I felt he’d be better off alone than with an unmarried girlfriend he sleeps with on weekends.”
“Elizabeth, nobody cares about that in Santa Cruz. Sounds like an excuse to me.”
“Maybe it is. I don’t know. I couldn’t go on with it the way it was anymore. It seemed dishonest.” Elizabeth picked up her wine again and swirled it, staring into the depths of the small eddy in the glass.
The friends sat quietly for a time. Annie thought about the upheaval in their lives as she sipped her wine. It was going to be a year of change for both of them.
The arrival of food broke the somber silence. By unspoken agreement, they changed topics and talked about Elizabeth’s business, the coming tourist season, and the best solutions to global warming.
• • •
After getting David off to school, Annie checked into her home e-mail before continuing the job search, as she’d done every morning since she quit her job.
“Yes!” she shouted as she scanned an e-mail from Arthur and Martin, one of the consulting firms she’d applied to. She sped back a response, telling them that she’d be happy to come in for an interview the following Tuesday. She danced around her office, her heart lifted with possibilities. It wasn’t a job, but it was one step closer.
She spotted a second e-mail in the queue. Beverly. She and her aunt had kept up with almost daily Facebook messages over the past few weeks. Beverly was planning a longer trip to Costanoa over the summer so she could meet her great-nephew and spend more time with them.
“I’ve got an interview!” Annie sent the message off.
Her aunt must have been online because a chat window came up. “I knew you would. You’ve been doing so great. Things will turn around, you’ll see. And you’ll be happier than you’ve ever been in your life.”
“You know, I think you might be right.”
“And how’s that beau of yours?”
“We talk every day. He’s coming to David’s soccer game on Friday night.”
“Will Fred be there?”
“Yes. But John can handle it.”
“I’m sure he can. It’s Fred I’m thinking about.”
“Good point.” Annie laughed out loud. “Got to run. Coaching call in a few minutes. Need to make some tea first.”
“Bye, sweetie.”
“Bye, Bev.”
Carol called promptly at ten. Annie was bubbling with enthusiasm.
“It sounds like things have really turned around,” Carol said when she finished catching her up to date.
“I can’t believe it. I mean, everything was against me. I was being laid off, my kid was in trouble, and it looked like my only option was to move across the country. And nothing about that has really changed.”
“Except you.”
“Except me.” Annie had to smile to herself. It was exactly what Carol had predicted weeks ago.
Carol let the silence lengthen.
“You know,” Annie continued. “I never really thought this would work. How could singing three times a week change my life? But I realize that it was simply a catalyst for other changes. Once I opened myself up to let the music back in my life, I became less rigid. It was as if I could see in color after living in a black and white movie all my life. I still don’t totally understand it, but I’m grateful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Are we done?” Annie asked.
“I think we are.”
• • •
The sunny warm days continued through Friday. Annie packed up David, his gear, and plenty of food supplies, and drove down to the high school football and soccer stadium. He had to be at the field an hour before the game, so she brought a book to read until John showed up.
Annie’s heart lifted when she saw John climbing the stadium steps to her perch. Her smile was reflected in his face, and she knew they could only see each other. She stood when he reached her and leaned into his embrace.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, settling his lips on hers for a lingering kiss.
“Me, too,” she replied when he finally released her.
He looked around. “You’ve got enough food here to feed a small army.”
“David is a small army after a soccer game.” Annie felt someone’s gaze on her. She looked down the stairs and saw Fred staring up at them. He didn’t look happy.
“There’s Fred,” she said to John, nodding at her ex-husband as he stood at the bottom of the stairs. “I need to talk to him. I’ll be right back.”
“Annie.” John put his hand on her arm. “Take all the time you need. I know you’ll be back.” He lightly kissed her on the cheek.
She trotted down the stairs to where Fred waited.
“Hi,” she said.
“Who’s that?” Fred gestured up the stairs.
“His name’s John. He owns Ocean Reads.”
“He’s obviously more than that to you.”
“Yes,” Annie said. “He is.”
Fred looked at her, his face drooping. “I guess I had a fantasy.”
“What was that?” Annie asked gently.
“That if I got sober, you’d come back to me.”
“Oh, Fred,” Annie said, giving him a hug. “I’m sorry. But it’s been over for a long time. We can’t go back.”
“I feel like a total fool.”
“It t
ook two of us. We each had issues we needed to work out. We couldn’t work them out together. But we produced a beautiful son.”
The corners of Fred’s mouth lifted. “So we did.” He gestured at John again. “So is it serious?”
“It might be.”
“Well, good for you. You deserve some happiness. David said you quit JCN. How’s the job search going?”
“I’ve got an interview next week.”
“That’s great! David’s really happy that you’re staying. All the chaos was tough on him.”
The teams began running out on the field.
“It’s starting,” Fred said. “I’m going to sit here. See you later.”
“Later.”
Annie climbed back up the stairs and sat next to John. She looked at Fred, alone on the bottom steps, bent over, his head on his hands.
“How’d it go?” John asked.
“As well as it could. I feel so sorry for him.”
“I know you do. And while he made your life miserable for a while, you loved him.”
“Yes.”
“Annie, I have to ask,” John took her hand. “Do you still love him?”
She shook her head. “No, I haven’t loved him for a very long time.”
John put his arm around her and pulled her close to him. “That means there’s space in your heart for me.”
“That’s what it means,” she said and tilted her face up for his kiss.
About the Author
Casey Dawes has lived a varied life from Equity stagehand to junior high teacher to technical maven, from Massachusetts to California, all of which gives her fodder for many novels to come. She has a master’s degree in theater, spent thirty-plus years in the technical industry and is a CoachU certified coach. Currently, she lives and writes on the bank of the Clark Fork in Montana. She’s accompanied through life by her husband and two cats who think they own the joint. To learn more about Casey, visit her website: www.stories-about-love.com.
Author’s Note
In California Sunset, Annie is stuck in the present because of things that happened in the past. She can’t find her way through her life alone. It’s only when she reaches out to a coach that things begin to shift for her. She needs another person’s perspective.
If you find you’re extremely unhappy and can’t figure out what to do, reaching out to someone else who is trained to help you examine your perspective, can change your life. Consider clergy, a therapist or a coach (begin your search with the International Coach Federation). While these solutions may seem expensive in the short term, they can accelerate change.
Annie also faces severely traumatic events. If you are living with someone whose drinking is affecting your life, consider a group like Al-Anon. If you were the victim of incest, consider Survivors of Incest Anonymous. While there isn’t a national group for parents of juvenile offenders, many communities have local groups of support.
Just remember — you don’t have to do it alone.
California Wine
Casey Dawes
Avon, Massachusetts
This edition published by
Crimson Romance
an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.
10151 Carver Road, Suite 200
Blue Ash, Ohio 45242
www.crimsonromance.com
Copyright © 2012 by Casey Dawes
ISBN 10: 1-4405-6221-0
ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-6221-1
eISBN 10: 1-4405-6222-9
eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-6222-8
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.
Cover art © 123rf.com
To my dear friend, Patricia Martin Fuentes, who inspired me to create Elizabeth.
Map © 2012 Pam B. Morris
Contents
Dedication
Map
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
About the Author
Acknowledgments
The winery owners and winemakers of the Santa Cruz Mountains have taught me so much about their craft over the last decade. I thank them for their time and their amazing product!
My writing group, as always, pushes me to become the best writer I can and get the next book done! And to Pam B. Morris who created the beautiful map of Costanoa.
My husband is always there for me and willing to read the same story over and over until I get it right. Bless him.
Chapter 1
Oh, my.
Elizabeth’s eyes locked with a pair of the most intense blue eyes she’d ever seen. They belonged to a man with thick black hair to his shoulders, a strong aquiline nose, and high cheekbones. His smile was warm; his straight white teeth a sharp contrast to his light olive skin.
Why did Italy produce such heart-breakingly handsome men?
She looked down at the restaurant table and then looked up again. He was still staring, the smile even broader.
Maybe her daughter Sarah was right. Elizabeth should dine out more often, especially if the scenery was going to be like this.
The waitress brought her a salad and Elizabeth looked at it morosely. Was it possible to eat salad and not get some stuck in her teeth when a gorgeous man was staring at her? Or worse, drop a huge leaf of oily lettuce on her blouse, calling his attention to her less than abundant breasts?
But the salad looked so good … tiny red cherry tomatoes interspersed with baby carrots and radishes on a bed of mixed greens. She sighed and stabbed the nearest tomato with her fork.
The red orb escaped her plate and went bouncing off the table to land on the floor, rolled to the center of an open space, and sat there for only a minute before being squished by a waitress’ black shoe.
“Such a tragic end for a little tomato.” A rich masculine voice spoke near her ear.
She looked up into the blue eyes of the man standing next to her.
“Perhaps if you had not stabbed at it so viciously, it might have survived,” he continued.
She had to grin at his mock seriousness.
“May I join you?” he asked his hand on the chair.
She considered him. She’d intended to eat her supper alone, go upstairs to her room, run a hot bath, and relax with a good book.
He waited for her answer.
Suddenly, her plan seemed a lonely way to spend one of her last days in Italy. “Sure.”
He sat down next to her and a frisson of heat zapped her body. For the first time since her mother had died, life stirred in her heart. She put down her fork.
“My name is Marcos,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Elizabeth.” She shook. His palm was smooth and cool, and the long fingers fit the rest of his lean body. His touch electrified her skin.
“American? Yes?”
She nodded.
He grinned, looking as if he’d guessed a game-show answer correctly. “Are you here on business?
Pleasure? Traveling all by yourself or is your husband with you?”
She took a sip of wine. Her best friend Annie had told her not to reveal too much personal information about herself when she was traveling. What could she safely tell her new acquaintance, a man she knew nothing about, other than he exuded masculinity?
He must have seen the suspicion in her eyes because he waved his hand and gestured. The proprietress of the hotel came over to their table.
“Is there something wrong?” she asked, a frown creasing her forehead. “Marcos, are you being a bother?”
“Nothing like that. I was only trying to assist the lady with her vegetables. They seem to be escaping.” Marcos pointed to the stain on the floor.
The woman snapped her fingers at the nearest waitress and pointed. Then she turned back to Elizabeth. “I am so sorry. Would you like me to bring you another tomato?”
“Another tomato? No, no, I’m fine.” Elizabeth stifled a laugh. “It’s nothing, really.”
She glanced at Marcos, who was holding his hand over his mouth. His eyes were sparkling with laughter.
“And him,” the woman poked a long fingernail into Marcos’ shoulder. “Is my cousin annoying you?”
“Uh … ” Now was Elizabeth’s chance to get rid of him if she wanted.
Marcos’ eyes pleaded for a reprieve.
An impish spark rose in her soul. Why not have an adventure in the safe confines of the hotel dining room? Her trip was almost over anyway. Surely no harm could come from a little fun. Could it?
“No. He’s fine,” Elizabeth said.
“Bueno.” The hotel owner turned on her heel and left, muttering under her breath.