Maddy took a deep breath. “Look, Dad, just let me explain.”
“Explain what, Maddy?” Mom said. Maddy’s stomach sank all the way to her ballet flats. “This situation seems perfectly clear to me. We trusted you. You broke that trust.”
Maddy had a horrible feeling she knew what was next. She desperately tried to head it off with a pitiful stream of babbling.
“I’m so sorry, guys! I promise, promise, promise it will never happen again—ever! It was going to be my only party, I swear, just a little reward after school, before senior year, to celebrate summer. I—I—” She searched around for something, anything, to appease them. “I won’t even stay here this summer! I’ll go live with Morgan—Mrs. Gainsley is incredibly strict.”
“No,” her dad said firmly. “You are going to spend the rest of the evening cleaning up this house, and then in the morning, you’re going to Napa with us. So get started.” The calmness in his voice sounded terrifyingly final.
Maddy let out her breath. “Okay, Dad,” she said in a barely controlled voice. “I understand that I screwed up and that I should go to Napa for a while to help you guys out as my punishment. But how long are we talking about? A week?” She had to stop to control the tremor in her voice. “Two weeks? I’ll help you clean and mow or whatever….” She broke off. Both of her parents were staring at her.
“Maddy,” Mom said.
“What?”
“Your father isn’t talking about a short visit. You’ll be helping out at the vineyard for the rest of the summer.”
Clunk. As silence fell over the room like a dead weight, Maddy’s visions of the beach, Brian, and freedom floated out into the now-foggy San Francisco night. “The entire summer…?” she croaked.
Her dad skewered her with a stare. He spoke as if Maddy were someone of severely limited intelligence. “Do…you…truly…think…you’re…staying…here…after…all…this?” Maddy swallowed.
Debbie Sinclaire got up from the sofa and went into the kitchen. “This discussion is finished,” she shot over her shoulder. There was a pause. Then an eruption. “Madeline Sinclaire! Can you please explain why the hell there is bean dip all over this ceiling?”
Maddy watched her dad stiffly walk onto the deck. He stood illuminated by tiki torches with his hands on his hips, staring at a lawn chair floating upside down in the pool. As Maddy stood to walk to the kitchen, she saw her father’s shoulders slump as he slid his head into his hands. And she felt the best summer ever slip right through her fingers.
Chapter Three
Ow!” Weighed down by two huge duffel bags and dragging a giant suitcase behind her, Maddy stumbled as she stubbed her toe on the edge of the door frame. She managed to squeeze the bags through the door and wrangle them down the steps.
The morning was fresh and dewy, with puffy white clouds skating overhead in the deep azure sky, but it might as well have been sleeting as Maddy crammed her stuff into the trunk of the Lexus RX hybrid. Good-bye beach, bye shopping, bye sleeping until noon, bye hanging out with Morgan and Kirsten. And mostly, bye Brian. She had texted him that she was being kidnapped. Rescue me! she had typed, without much hope.
“Maddy! Did you remember your hiking boots?” her mother’s voice called from the house. The woman had no right to be this perky at seven a.m. “The terrain is pretty rocky up there!” Her mom sounded like she was relishing the thought.
“I did, Mom!” Maddy sang out through gritted teeth.
“Well, we’re leaving in just a minute. Dad’s just checking the air-conditioning one more time.”
Suddenly, Maddy heard a car engine behind her. She whirled around to see Brian stepping down from his yellow Nissan XTerra.
“Hey, babe,” Brian cooed. He was still wearing his clothes from the party, and his hair was all matted on one side, sticking up on the other. She could see sleep sand in the corner of one eye as he bent to kiss her forehead.
“You look awful,” she noted. “Have you been home yet?”
He scrubbed at the side of his face with his hand. “No, I crashed on Chad’s couch. I can’t believe I’m awake this early. But I couldn’t let you leave without saying good-bye.” He leaned down to kiss her just as the front door slammed. Maddy clutched at Brian.
“Don’t let them take me!” she whispered. “I am going to absolutely die up there.”
He kissed her forehead again. “I’ll call you every night.” The garage door opened and Brian looked up. “I’d better go.”
Maddy watched forlornly as he backed down the driveway and floored the accelerator. As he sped away, an arm appeared out of the driver’s window and flapped a few times. She lifted her own hand in response and kept it up until the car had disappeared around the corner.
“Okay!” Mom came out of the house. She seemed to have recovered her good humor now that they were almost on their way back to Napa. “Got all your stuff in the car?” she asked Maddy.
“Yep.”
Dad bustled up and slapped his hands together. “Everyone go to the bathroom?”
Oh. My. God. Was the entire summer going to be like this? She looked up at the sky, hoping to fight the overwhelming feeling that her world was shrinking beyond recognition. She climbed into the backseat and buckled her seat belt, planting her sneakered feet firmly on a box of dishes. “Let’s just go already, okay?”
Her parents exchanged a classic our-teenage-daughter-is-such-a-pain-in-the-you-know-what glance. Good, Maddy thought. We’re all on the same page. I think you guys are a pain in the ass too. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the leather seat back. She could hear a double bam-bam as her parents got in and shut their doors. Maybe she could just sleep the whole way.
Peaceful silence filled the car as her dad wound through the streets full of Spanish-style and Victorian mansions and then bumped over the railroad tracks. He drove through a Hispanic neighborhood, where the bodegas and shops selling quinceañera dresses were crowded together with skinny brownstones. The brownstones gradually gave way to warehouses and car dealerships. They turned onto the highway. The soft hum of the engine and the comforting voices of NPR hosts filtered into the backseat. Maddy drifted away, her head lolling on her shoulder.
“Madeline.” Her father’s voice jerked her awake.
“Huh?” A trickle of drool had reached her chin. She wiped at it furiously.
Her mom twisted around to face the backseat. “Daddy and I want to talk to you about this summer.”
Maddy groaned.
Her dad went on. “We’re going to need you to pitch in and do some work on the vineyard grounds. You’re starting at zero on the responsibility scale. This vineyard is very important to your mother and me, so we expect you to take this seriously.”
“Umm?” Maddy tuned them out when her purse started buzzing. She slid her BlackBerry Curve out of her Kooba bag. CHAT REQUEST FROM MORGAN. She held it down by her side and pressed START CONVERSATION.
HOW R U?
AWFUL, OF COURSE—WHAT DO U EXPECT? Maddy typed without looking at the keys.
K AND I MISS U ALREADY! AT ORCHIDS 4 BRUNCH.
Maddy’s stomach rumbled at the thought. Orchids had absolutely the best strawberry waffles in the city. THANKS FOR THAT. I’M PROBABLY HEADING OFF TO EAT GRUEL ALL SUMMER.
GOING TO THE BEACH LATER—IT’LL BE SO WEIRD WITHOUT U.
I KNOW. ALL I WANT IS TO HANG OUT WITH YOU GUYS, SLEEP IN, AND SEE BRIAN. BUT I’M GOING TO BE SLAVE LABOR FOR THE NEXT TWO MONTHS.
POOR GIRL! MAYBE K & I CAN COME RESCUE YOU!
THAT WOULD BE SO GREAT. I DON’T THINK U COULD GET PAST THE PRISON GUARDS THO.
K & I WILL BE THINKING OF YOU. XOXO!!
Maddy pressed END CONVERSATION, heaved a gusty sigh, and stared out the window at miles and miles of pine trees; rocky, sandy soil; and distant, bluish hills. They passed a vegetable stand with a sign in the front that read TOMATOES $1/LB.
Of course, Maddy had seen pictures of Napa and its acres of twisty grapevines wrap
ping around the hills and spreading across the valley floor. But even though the vineyards were less than two hours from the city, Maddy had never actually seen one before. She leaned a little closer to the window. The land was completely covered in vines, stretching as far as she could see. Low stone walls lined the two-lane road. Hand-lettered signs reading WINE TASTING TODAY and NORTH RIDGE WINERY flashed by. Occasionally, they passed a palatial gate with the name of the vineyard spelled out in iron letters at the top. Past these gates were long, groomed gravel driveways lined with towering trees.
Maddy settled back into her seat, comfortably wiggling her shoulders into the cushy leather as she pictured a massive stone villa, surrounded by acres of manicured lawn. She’d be clad in a clingy black dress, pouring wine for a clutch of sophisticated vineyard visitors. “This is our newest blend, a merlot-burgundy,” she imagined herself explaining. “It has very strong legs.” Everyone nodded, impressed with her knowledge, and sipped delicately from their long-stemmed glasses. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all, she thought as she dozed off.
Chapter Four
Here we are!” Her dad’s voice was offensively cheerful. Mom was rummaging around in her handbag, muttering something about the keys.
Maddy leaned forward eagerly as the car turned onto a long, rocky hillside. Twisted pine trees were around them. She rolled down the window and inhaled a deep breath of the fresh mountain air. It did smell good out here.
The car slowed down and turned through an opening in a crooked wooden fence that looked about a hundred years old. An enthusiastic profusion of morning glories and wisteria vines draped over the top rails. Maddy squinted at a little wooden sign hanging crookedly next to the driveway: IRONSTONE WINERY.
“Our front entrance,” her dad announced grandly.
Maddy’s vision of the lush vineyard with romantic stone buildings and polished tile floors began to crack.
Everyone hung on to their door handles as her dad swerved to avoid the gaping holes along the bumpy driveway. Maddy tried to focus on the looming pine trees surrounding them.
“Whoa!” Bob slammed on the brakes.
“Oh my God,” Maddy said, squinting through the windshield from the backseat. “Is that a pig?”
Mom sighed. “Mr. Jenkins next door keeps them, and sometimes they get out. I believe that one is named Jasper.” The enormous white pig meandered around the middle of the driveway. Bob blew the horn, which the pig haughtily ignored.
Mom opened her car door. “Let’s see if he’ll just walk off with a little urging. We can call Mr. Jenkins when we get to the house.” Gingerly, she stepped toward the pig and put her hand in her pocket. She drew something out and flung it into the bushes by the side of the road. Jasper lifted his huge head, snorted, and lumbered off toward the object.
“What was that?” Maddy asked as Mom got back in the car.
“Oh, nothing.” Her voice was airy. “I had some cheese crackers in my pocket.”
“Wow. Now can we please drive up to the house?” Maddy shook her head, trying to reconcile the sophisticated Mom she knew, who never left the house without her Chanel lipstick, with a woman who kept pig bait in her pocket.
Leaving Jasper happily eating his processed cheese, the SUV passed through the little grove and rounded one more turn. Maddy’s father pulled up to a clearing in the grass. “Welcome to Ironstone Vineyard,” he announced. “First tasting will be held in the wine room in”—he looked at his watch—“approximately two months.”
Maddy stared at the structure in front of her. It was more a cottage than an actual house, and it looked like it belonged in an English fairy tale, not Northern California. Ivy covered the white clapboard sides, climbing to the slate roof. Curtains fluttered from the open windows upstairs, and a porch with elaborate wooden railings, scrolls, and gingerbread carving spread across the length of the house. The place was sitting in the middle of a giant, overgrown flower garden, where rosebushes competed with hollyhocks for the most sunshine. Who lives here? Maddy wondered. Elves?
Her parents practically leaped from the car as Maddy extracted herself from the backseat. The only sounds were of her parents rummaging around at the back of the car, the wind moving through the tops of the trees like the ocean hitting the shore, and a mockingbird singing madly on a branch over her head. The air was dry and cool in the shade, but when she stepped into the sunshine, she could feel its heat on her bare arms. She fished in her bag for her oversize Dior sunglasses. A mosquito whined in her ear. She swatted at it and slapped another one on her leg. Perfect.
“What do you think?” Mom picked up a big canvas bag and glanced at her daughter. Her father was busily pulling boxes and bags out of the trunk and piling them on the ground.
Maddy chose her words carefully. “It’s…nice. Little.”
Mom gave her an absentminded smile, but before Maddy could respond, she heard a crunching sound behind her. She turned to see a gray-haired man about her parents’ age appear around the side of the house.
“Fred!” Her father waved the man over. “Maddy, this is Fred Tighe, our business partner.”
“I’m glad to finally meet you, Maddy.” Fred smiled at her through his beard, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. His voice was quiet and gentle as he wiped his hand on his canvas work pants and held it out. Maddy shook the outstretched paw.
“Nice to meet you, too,” she said.
Fred turned to her father. “Bob, I want to take a look at the southwest irrigation ditch, if you have a moment. I know you all just arrived, but darned if that hose hasn’t backed up and filled it in again.”
“Damn. Not that thing again. You know, I think if we try that black tubing…” The two men disappeared around the side of the house, Bob gesturing and talking animatedly, Fred nodding.
Mom was loading herself up with bags and a big box of groceries. “The front door key is buried in my bag somewhere, but the kitchen door’s open.”
“Why can’t we just pull the car around back?” Maddy asked. “That would be a lot easier than hauling all this stuff around.”
“Grab that suitcase, will you? We can’t pull the car around. The trees are too close—it won’t fit.”
“Mom, I have to pee so bad!”
“Well, go inside—take the suitcase with you. The bathroom’s upstairs. There’s only one.”
“What?” Maddy couldn’t hide her unintentional indignation.
Mom straightened up and pressed her lips together. She looked like she was about to say something but decided against it.
“Whatever!” Maddy said hastily. “What I meant was, great! I adore sharing a bathroom with my parents and assorted wildlife. Maybe Jasper the pig would like to move in also.”
“Perhaps he would. Why don’t you go back down the driveway and ask him?” Mom said calmly.
They heaved the bags and boxes around to the back, which was covered by another shady porch. A swing and an array of wooden rocking chairs dotted the yard. Trellises stood against the sides of the house, covered in climbing roses. A large lawn spread out in a semicircle, surrounded on all sides by twisty grapevines. Clusters of lush purple grapes hung down. They looked delicious.
Ignoring her bladder, Maddy wandered over to the grapes and picked a few of the ripest. They were firm and smooth and covered with a hint of silvery frost. Her mouth was already watering. She popped them into her mouth and bit down. Hot, sweet juice spurted onto her tongue. Mmm. Wow. They were more intensely grape-y than anything she’d ever tasted. She glanced back at the house and carefully spat the thick skins and seeds onto the ground.
Maddy lugged her suitcase up the back steps and pushed open the screen door. She stepped into a little back hallway. She heard Mom already banging cabinet doors in a yellow-painted kitchen to her right. A steep wooden staircase extended up in front of her. She climbed the steps, listening to them creak under her feet. The upstairs hallway was narrow, with a few rooms visible through their half-open doors. Maddy briefly took in the cr
eam-painted walls, wide-planked hardwood floors, and sunlight pouring in through open windows.
She spotted the bathroom at the end of the hall and darted in. It was tiny, with just enough room for a pedestal sink, a toilet, and a huge old tub that looked like it was made of copper. The floor was covered with old-fashioned black and white hexagonal tiles. A distressed old armoire painted shabby-chic white stood in a corner. Maddy thought longingly of the heated towel racks, three showerheads, and vast marble countertop of her private bathroom at home.
She turned on the water at the freestanding sink and stuck her hands underneath. “Yowch!” she yelped, and yanked her hands back, shaking off droplets of scalding water. Maddy glared at the sink. Two faucets. Of course this house would have a sink from like 1776 with separate faucets for hot and cold. She scowled and dried her hands on her sweatpants.
There were three other doors in the hallway besides the one leading to the bathroom. The first room had an antique rolltop desk pushed against a wall, an old sofa, and a bookcase overflowing with books and papers. A laptop sat on the desk. That must be the room they’re using as the vineyard office, Maddy thought. She peeked into what must have been her parents’ room next. A big bed with an old brass headboard stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by a sea of boxes. Every room had funny slanted walls and low wooden ceilings. Maddy felt like she was on a ship.
There was only one door left, at the end of the hallway. “Is this end room mine?” Maddy called down the stairs to her mom, who was still clattering around in the kitchen.
“Yes, it is!” she called back.
A cool breeze blew against Maddy’s face as she walked in the door. Across the room, big glass doors leading to a balcony were flung open. The walls were a soft sage green. One wall slanted down almost to the floor. A little corner alcove held a built-in cushioned bench covered with pretty pillows. The polished wooden floors were bare except for a few woven rugs. A four-poster bed was covered with a green and white fern-patterned bedspread. There was a big, old-fashioned wardrobe in one corner and a white vanity table, the kind with a mirror on top, and a cushioned stool.
The Other Boy Page 2