Blend

by Georgia Beers

  “I know, I know. I’m sorry. Come up here.” She patted the couch, and Rocket pulled the rest of his eighty-five-pound body up next to her and dropped his head into her lap. Crossing her feet at the ankles and propping them on the now-empty coffee table, she lay back against the couch and dug her fingers into her dog’s fur, just enjoying the peace and the unconditional love.

  “So,” she said, after a few moments, “that’s the end of the first week without Mrs. B., and I think it went really well. I met with all the staff. We’ve got Bridget, Kevin, Christi, Zack, and Sharon. Plus, I’m meeting with the cheese guy and a wine distributor Monday.” She glanced down into her lap at the sweet brown eyes of her dog, who seemed to be paying very close attention to everything she said. So she scratched his belly and went on. “Nobody seemed weirded out to have me in charge. I mean, I was sort of in charge anyway, as general manager, but they could always go to Mrs. B. if they had a problem. Now they only have me. And they seemed all right with that. Which was a huge relief.”

  It was a decent staff. Bridget, Kevin, and Sharon knew their stuff. Zack and Christi were younger, but vibrant. Fun. And they brought in some of their friends on occasion, who then brought in more of a younger crowd, something Vineyard could really use.

  “I feel like Mrs. B. was finally starting to get that, you know, Rocket? That wine is being consumed by the younger set now?”

  “I do get that, Mom. You’re super wise about wine and stuff.”

  “Right?” She moved her fingers to his ears and massaged them gently. “Too bad her daughter doesn’t get that. Oh, well. She’s made no appearances, so I’m hoping it stays that way.”

  And right on cue, her brain tossed her the image of the last time she’d seen Piper. The black slacks and rust-colored top and heels that clicked all the way across the floor. Those hazel eyes and dark, dark lashes. Those dimples that didn’t show nearly enough because she didn’t smile nearly enough, and that perfect, perfect hair.

  “I’d like to mess up that hair,” Lindsay whispered aloud, which made Rocket snap to attention, sitting up on the couch and looking at her expectantly. She chuckled. “Dude, just because I whisper doesn’t mean I’m talking to you.” But that face and those eyes…she couldn’t resist and took his square head in both hands, kissed the bridge of his nose. “But you’re right. I totally was. I’d like to mess up your hair. Yes, I would.” And then Rocket’s tail was whacking loudly against a throw pillow and his ears were up and his head was cocked and he was the most adorable, loving thing in the world to Lindsay. She hugged him tightly and told him so.

  Lindsay wasn’t a night owl by nature, but working the hours at Vineyard had sort of turned her into one. They closed at nine—something she was going to change in the next week or two—and once she cleaned things up, took care of the money, and got the place ready for the next day, it was often 10:30 before she got home, wired and hungry and not at all ready for bed. Part of the drawback to that was she tended to lose touch with some of her friends who had normal-business-hour jobs. A glance at her phone showed two missed calls and three unanswered texts from friends and family, but it was too late now to text back. She’d try to do that in the morning.

  Tonight was no different than most in the wired and hungry department. In the kitchen, she sautéed some cherry tomatoes in a little olive oil, then scrambled in some eggs. Once topped with a little oregano and some parmesan cheese, she slid it all onto a plate, poured herself a glass of cabernet, and returned to the living room to watch a little TV with Rocket. This was when she did her best thinking.

  Eggs devoured and a Modern Family rerun on the television, she pulled out her little notepad, along with a larger one (she preferred pen and paper to a computer screen when brainstorming…and she couldn’t doodle on a laptop while she thought), and began to list the things she wanted to address around Vineyard.

  “I have to be careful, Rock. I don’t want to make too many changes too fast, you know? Gotta ease into some of these things.” She was going to give the staff a week or two to get used to the new hierarchy, then talk to them about staying open an hour later. Then two if the first hour was worth it. That could mean more hours for her, she knew. She couldn’t expect the staff to suddenly be available more than they’d originally thought they’d be needed. But she had a feeling Bridget and maybe Kevin would be more than willing.

  The Cab was very good. Peppery but smooth, with a long, lingering finish. She’d order more tomorrow, jotted that on the list. Her phone dinged to indicate a text and she picked it up. It was from her stepbrother, Josh, apparently having no qualms about texting when it was nearing midnight.

  Got a few pals together. Looking to come by tomorrow after work.

  Lindsay couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Josh face-to-face. Months ago, easily. She remembered him asking her lots of questions about wine, and she hadn’t been sure if he was actually interested or was just making conversation. With a shrug, she texted back.

  What time? I’m there from 12 to 9.

  A few seconds went by while Lindsay watched the bouncing dots that indicated Josh was typing.

  4 of us. 7?

  Lindsay jotted in her schedule to reserve a table.

  Perfect. I’ll save space for you.

  She knew the twentysomethings of today were drinking a ton of wine. There were countless articles on it, and Lindsay was pretty sure she’d read them all. So it wasn’t really about educating them on wine; they already knew they wanted to drink it. It was more about getting them into the wine bar, drawing them in with something. Setting, atmosphere, music. Then she could educate them, which would help to keep them coming back. All of it played a role. Lindsay just had to be the director and make it all work seamlessly. Josh and his friends would give her a golden opportunity to practice.

  It was a challenge she was up for.

  Finally ready to give her brain a rest, she set aside all her notes and her empty plate, picked up the half-full wine glass, and paid attention to the television. Tomorrow was Saturday and not a day that she should be worrying about business, but she was. A restaurant at the other end of the lake, Lakeshore, had started serving wine flights last month, and it concerned her that her customers might be going there. It was a bigger place, more modern, but Lindsay had also found, during a covert visit, that it was kind of generic. A bit…sterile and lacking in personality. Still, healthy competition had pros and cons. Lindsay wanted to focus on the pros.

  Might be time for another visit.

  * * *

  Saturday morning dawned clear, the sun very slowly making its way to the horizon, like an elementary school student trudging around sleepily, dreading the impending schoolday. Sluggish and lazy, taking its sweet time.

  Black Cherry Lake was cold. There was no doubt. Piper had her water shoes on but decided to launch from the dock rather than the shore. No way was she walking waist-deep into early April waters. In fact, she almost didn’t come, cursing at her alarm when it went off at 5:45. She certainly didn’t have to be out here so early. It was the weekend and she had all day. But there was something about the peace of the early morning, especially when there was no wind, like today. The lake was like glass, everything was quiet and so very peaceful—with the exception of the birds and ducks gradually reappearing after a winter away. And you couldn’t beat the sunrise. Piper had lost count of how many mornings she’d glided across the lake in her bright green kayak, lifted her paddle out of the water, and just drifted in utter silence as she watched the sun appear and get the day started.

  Nothing gave her more peace.

  After her father died, she was out here almost every morning. The days had suddenly felt so loud, and frankly, she was angry that the earth kept spinning, that everybody just went on with their lives when she’d lost the most important man in her world.

  Now, two years and change later, she didn’t miss him any less, but she’d become very good at shifting her thoughts to other, less painful things.
She also no longer hated the entire planet and everybody on it. And these early-morning glides through the lake were her salvation in a life of demanding bosses and needy clients and numbers and quotas and too many people relying on her. On top of all that, she got to add in worrying about her mother as well.

  Getting herself situated in her seat, Piper adjusted her new life vest—which was even thinner and more comfortable than she’d hoped—and pushed off the dock. A few fishermen dotted the lake within her view, their small rowboats as quiet as her kayak, and for that, she was grateful. Nothing spoiled her tranquil mornings faster than the obnoxious buzzing of a motor. The waterproof bag between her feet contained her cell phone (which was on silent), a bottle of water, and an energy bar for later. Her paddle made very little sound as she sliced it into the water and pulled, gaining enough momentum until she was moving steadily along the water, a satisfying burn in her shoulders and arms telling her she was working the right muscles. To her left, a fish jumped, the small splash seeming loud in the quiet of the morning, the ripples making larger and larger circles until they faded.

  Once she fell into a rhythm, her thoughts drifted back to her mother. What the hell is she doing? What the hell is she thinking, traipsing all over the country? She has responsibilities here. She has two daughters. She’s got grandkids. She has a business, for Christ’s sake. How does she think it’s okay to just up and go?

  And then Piper felt immediately guilty. She was an intelligent woman, and it wasn’t hard for her to understand exactly what her mother was doing. She was breaking free. She was giving herself permission to live again. She’d been devastated when Piper’s father had died and she’d stayed holed up for months before finally venturing out somewhere other than home or Vineyard. It was time. She was due some happiness. She deserved it. Piper knew all of that.

  Still…

  She was approaching near center of Black Cherry Lake, and the sun was starting to show itself over the tops of the black cherry trees for which the lake was named. A grove of them framed the east end of the water, their blossoms preparing to burst into an explosion of beautiful white flowers. Piper pulled her paddle out of the water and laid it across her kayak, just let herself drift as she breathed in the crisp morning air. Spring was her absolute favorite. It spoke of rejuvenation and new beginnings, and if there was one thing Piper loved, it was wiping the slate clean and being able to start again. After such a long, cold winter, she was even more excited to be in the early throes of it.

  Inhaling a long, slow lungful of fresh lake air helped her to find her center, and she exhaled just as slowly. Her mother had trusted her to take care of some things while she was away, and it was time for Piper to step up. She hadn’t been back to Vineyard since the initial meeting with her mother and Lindsay Kent; she hadn’t had the desire or the need. But now she realized that her stubbornness was misplaced. She was in charge, and she at least needed to make an appearance once in a while. She made a pact with herself that she’d go tonight. Maybe drag Matthew and Shane with her.

  Yes. It was time to make sure Lindsay Kent knew Piper was around.

  * * *

  Despite the light weight of the kayak, getting it on and off her SUV by herself was still an awkward maneuver for Piper. She’d managed to get it pretty much down to a science, but she was always glad there was nobody around to hear her grunt and groan and swear or see her struggle with the balance as it tended to tip one way or the other before she got it under control.

  Her arms were already burning from the exertion of the paddling—this was her first outing this year, and her muscles had gotten soft and lazy over the winter.

  “Gonna be sore tomorrow,” she said to herself, as she unlocked the door from the garage to the house she lived in alone.

  Edgar sauntered into the room and began weaving around her ankles—his feline way of saying hello and that he loved her (and possibly a request for something tasty. Treats, food, whatever—just something good).

  Kat had moved out three years ago this month. Piper hadn’t been ready for that then, and she still didn’t like to think about it now. They’d picked the house out together, though Kat’s credit was lousy, so Piper’s was the only name on the deed. That actually made things easier when Kat had left. Easier legally. Easier financially. Not easier emotionally. It had taken Piper months before she could even breathe. Her feelings for Kat had run deep, deeper than she’d realized, and Kat’s reasons for leaving had made perfect sense. And were also devastating for Piper to actually hear. Just when she was starting to feel somewhat human again, her father had died and sent her spiraling right back down into the depths of darkness and pain and hopelessness.

  It was getting better, though. Several months ago, Piper had finally hired a painter to come in and change the color in almost every room. She rearranged some furniture, got rid of some altogether, and bought an entirely new bedroom set. She had the carpet pulled from the living room and had hardwood installed, which gave the room a whole new look, exactly what she’d been going for. The house was no longer hers and Kat’s. It was just hers, and she’d wanted it to feel that way. No, she’d needed it to feel that way. And now it did. It still felt a bit empty, but she was doing better with that.

  In the bedroom, Piper had just stepped out of her clothes, ready to shower, when her phone rang. Grabbing it from the nightstand, she saw that it was her big sister. She swiped to answer. “Hey, G.”

  “Hi there, Pipe-sicle. You kayak this morning?” Gina knew Piper better than anyone, could often verbalize Piper’s thoughts before Piper had a chance to. It was creepy and unnerving and comforting all at once.

  “I did. It was chilly, but worth it. The sunrise was gorgeous.” Piper stood in front of the full-length mirror and eyed her naked body’s profile critically.

  “Mom called to say she was having a good time and was heading to New Orleans tomorrow.”

  Piper’s brow furrowed. “New Orleans? What happened to Florida?”

  “She’s apparently done there and ready for the next stop.”

  “I…what is she…” Piper fought to find words. “How many stops are there?”

  “No idea.”

  “I thought she was just bouncing down to Florida for a while. I mean, I scolded her for gallivanting, but I didn’t think she actually was gallivanting.”

  “I think that’s exactly what she’s doing.” Gina paused. “Why do you sound so freaked about it? This is good for her.”

  Piper sighed, unable to come up with an answer. “I don’t know. It’s just…weird. Don’t you think it’s weird?”

  “I think it’s different. And sometimes, different is exactly what you need.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “She’s happy, Piper. She’s having a good time. Let her.”

  Gina was right. Piper knew that. Gina was way better at emotions and feelings; she always had been. She just…got stuff. Things that Piper completely missed, Gina caught, analyzed, and reported back so Piper understood. Gina was her emotional translator. And thank God, because Piper needed one more often than she cared to admit.

  “Fine. I’ll try. But I’ll still worry.”

  “That’s acceptable.” Gina’s chuckle was warm and didn’t make Piper feel ridiculous. “What’s your plan for this lovely April Saturday?”

  Piper grabbed her robe off the hook on the bathroom door. She rarely wore it but was getting chilly parading around in her birthday suit while on the phone. “I’ve got some cleaning to do. I need to hit the grocery store. And I thought I’d scoot by Vineyard tonight, check on things, make my presence known.”

  “Ominous.”

  “No, just being responsible. Mom left me in charge, so…”

  “I thought Mom left you and Lindsay in charge.”

  “Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”

  Gina laughed heartily this time. “Go easy on her. She loves that place as much as Mom does.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” An image of Lindsay Kent, with her tousled
blond hair and ridiculous green eyes, invaded Piper’s mind’s eye. “I just want her to know I’m watching her.”

  “What are you, Big Brother? Relax, Piper. You’ll give yourself a panic attack.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Piper said again.

  “Why don’t you meet me and Brittany for dinner? We’re going to be down at the lakefront. Eat with us and then you can zip over to Vineyard. Hell, maybe I’ll go with you. God knows my daughter will have had more than enough of me by the time our meal is over. She’s meeting some friends at the coffee place.”

  Piper didn’t have to think about it. She accepted the invitation in an instant. “I’m in. I feel like I haven’t laid eyes on my niece in ages. Apparently, fifteen-year-olds are way too cool to be seen with their old aunts any more. I’m sad for me.”

  Gina scoffed. “Please. Aunt Piper is infinitely cooler than Mom. At least you’ve got me beat.”

  “Well, then, I’m sad for you instead.”

  They made plans to meet and Piper finally got to hang up and get her now goose-bumped body into a warm shower.

  It was shaping up to be a pretty great day.

  Chapter Five

  “Good evening, my queen.” Bridget’s voice was teasing as she bumped Lindsay with a hip behind the bar.

  “I could so get used to that,” Lindsay replied with a grin. “How are you?”

  Bridget’s shift was just beginning and she tied a black waist apron behind her back. “I’m not bad. You?”

  “I had a really good day.” It was the truth. Lindsay’s Saturday had been relaxed and enjoyable. “I took Rocket for a hike in the park near the cherry grove. Haven’t done that in a long time. It’s just been too muddy. Then I read a little bit, did some research, came in a little bit early and opened at two. We’ve been steady all day, which is awesome.”

  “The nicer weather is bringing people out of their houses finally.”