Martin took Zack’s card and mixed the wines into the decanter.
“Carefully count the drops.”
Martin poured small tastes in new glasses.
“Identical. Fantastic.” Debra set her glass down. “Now I’m going to need a date for tonight. Well. I guess that’s too much information sharing?”
They laughed.
“You get to name it Zack.” Martin held hand out to shake Zack’s hand.
Frank said, “He’ll be too modest. It needs to be called Zack’s Blend.”
“Oh yes.” Debra picked up her glass and took another sip. “Yes.” her voice hollow, reflected by the upturned glass near her mouth. She looked at Zack over the curve of her glass, catching his eyes in the reflection. “Yes. Nothing other than Zack’s Blend.” She walked out, “Maybe I can make something up with chocolate now.”
Martin gripped the decanter. “I’ll get this tested upstairs and we’ll get labels made this week for our state requirements.”
-:-:-:-O-:-:-:-
The following days Frank and Zack worked at the blending project. The same physical work but filled with trepidation and hope. Debra made pork wrapped California vegetable appetizers for lunch. They invited several other workers that trimmed the trellises around the winery. They sat on big rocks under a small olive tree that would shade most of the corner of the building and add interest in the coming years.
“What have you two worked on before coming to Amber Mountain?”
Victor, the smaller of the two, wore a threadbare flannel shirt and rough-worn contractor’s boots with the whitest socks Zack had ever seen. “Three other vineyards in Temecula, one of the big industrial vineyards in Santa Barbara, and before that up in Napa at a string of organic vineyards.”
Zack asked, “How does this place compare?”
“Hot. Big sugar in the grapes. Vibrant flavors.”
Walter wore a blue button-up shirt that he rolled the sleeves above his elbows. He brushed his straight black hair back after the breeze coming around the corner of the building pushed it across his eyes, “I agree it’s hot here. However, we are close to LA and San Diego. An hour – and we can do anything.”
Victor said, “It’s not mechanized here, at least not like the big place. We got lost in those fields. The rows never ended. Here the fields are smaller and we can take more care with our work like we did in Napa.”
“Even Napa was getting too industrialized,” Walter said. “Smaller craft farms since this valley is just starting.”
Zack said, “Wine has been made for a generation here already.”
“Small wine though.” Walter said, “I do see how this valley has really grown in the last ten years.”
Victor said, “It’s because it’s so close to LA. The Hollywood actors, or anyone, can make a day trip out here and they don’t need a private jet like they do for Napa.”
Walter laughed, a gold cap glinting on a back tooth, “They just need to ask their driver, “Home James”.”
Zack drank his water. With his eyes tipped up, he saw a car enter the drive and curve around the building to the parking lot on the far side. Two women scurried from the car into the winery gift shop as if their heels could flip off if they moved any slower. His mind missed other details about the two women when the big glass entry door nearly blinded him with its reflected sunlight. He blinked until his eyes let the light recede. Behind his closed eyes, he saw the swirling images from the investor meeting in January and … Claire. How she looked. His desire for her. Then his kids and Lydia stabbed back into the picture floating through his mind. He glanced at his hands and twisted the cap on the empty water bottle. He knew he should remain loyal to Lydia, if not for marriage, then for his kids. A bit of his heart hurt, pinched in sadness, as he stood, “We should get back to work, eh guys?”
Claire stopped inside the gift shop. One window pointed toward the corner of the building where she could still see the workers sitting around the tree on break.
“Are you coming?” Leiko asked. “We can’t stay long – it’s still a drive up to Beaumont. What wine do you think Liz would like the best?”
“White.” Claire watched over a stacked display of wine and recipe books on the sideboard in front of the window. She saw one of the workers wearing farmer coveralls twist the cap on an empty water bottle. Something looked familiar about him.
Leiko asked, “Come in here, there are at least eight white wines … And two desert wines. Liz doesn’t cook so don’t bother with those recipe books.”
“I’m not looking at the books.”
One of the gift shop staff asked, “Can I help you find anything or answer any questions?”
Claire wrinkled her lips to suppress embarrassment, and then decided to ask what she really wanted to know, pointing her chin toward the workers. “Who are those guys out there?” She saw they were standing now, about to walk away, slipping on their work gloves.
“They are trimming the vines.”
“How about the one with the blue farmer overalls?”
The staff girl squeezed her eyelids to see better and said, “Looks like one of the owners. His name is Zack and the balding guy next to him would be Frank. They are both here helping Victor and Walter in the field. They’ve been in the barrel room, out in the vineyard, and they poured wine a couple of evenings at the bar when one of the girls had a nephew playing at a piano recital.”
“I think I met Zack last month.”
“Must have been the investor meeting?”
“Yes. That is it. He gave me a tour of the barrel cave. He looks good in overalls.” She watched the men disappear around the building, his tight T-shirt hugging his chest under the overall straps. Her body vibrated as if anticipating a butterfly alighting on her nerve tips.
“He joked about the crispness of his brand new canvas overalls when he first put them on over his street jeans.” The girl said, “He said he’s going home tonight. But he’s scheduled back the first week in March.”
“Ready to go?” Leiko asked. Her heels clicked on the polished cement. “I grabbed this Pinot Gris at the suggestion of the tasting bar guy,” she dropped her voice nearly to a whisper, “– the hot tasting bar guy.”
“You’re getting married, remember,” said Claire pushing through the exterior doors.
“I can still look.”
“Thanks for your help,” Claire said to the gift shop clerk before releasing the door. The breeze outside the winery fluttered her floral print skirt against her legs. She managed to keep her shoes on her feet all the way to the car.
Chapter 5
“Where are you going?” Zack poured coffee into his cup on top of the splash of milk and sugar he added. The coffee and milk spun together into slower and slower whorls as the volume of coffee increased, swallowing the sweetened milk in blackness. “It’s pretty early for a Saturday, you want coffee?”
Lydia pulled on her boots, “Going to the office. I forgot some paperwork and have to finish up a presentation deck for Monday.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Probably most of the day. I thought I might call my mother later. I may get dinner with her and do some shopping. You’ll be ok with the kids?”
Zack swallowed his first sip, the dark liquid slicing a burn across his tongue, “Yeah. I thought we’d all go to the park and ride bikes.”
“The kids will love that. I’m getting coffee on the road.” Lydia twisted the door knob and slipped through. The door swung shut and the latch clicked after her.
Zack picked up his tablet and flipped through a book he had been reading about vampires in a city named Livix somewhere in Michigan, which had first attracted him to it. The plot kept him interested. He held his coffee cup in his palm as it cooled slightly.
“Where are we going?”
“To the park.”
“Dad. I want to stay home. It looks cold outside.”
“Bike in the snow?” Grace asked, watching Zack put a bike
in the car trunk.
“That’s what all those knobby tires are for.”
Zack stuffed the bikes in the trunk of the car while the kids buckled themselves into their seats.
“Are the trails paved or dirt?”
“Oh I think they are paved. We’ll see. There is an off-road course that could be quite hard, even in the summer.”
“Let’s stay on the trail!”
“That’s what I thought, Grace.”
They came to the empty guard shack, empty since the park system in the state switched from paying tickets for entry to paying on your vehicle registration. Zack took the bikes out and set them up. He snapped on their bike helmets. “Isn’t it nice you both learned to ride without training wheels?” the children already started pedaling toward the path. The snow on the ground had recently fallen and the air warmed it to a dampness that seemed to absorb all sound as they rode into the woods. Trees as thick as the legs of giants shambled around them in the murky wood. The sun a distant dot in the fog hovering over the world.
“Kids, be careful and stay to the left side as we go around these people ahead.”
“Sure Dad!”
They started pedaling fast. Zack heard “Race you!”
“Kids, CAREFUL! Give them room.”
A handful of college age girls chattering among themselves saw the children. They giggled and laughed. Two of them moved to one side of the path while the other four moved to their near side. “Go! Go! Go!” they urged the kids ahead. They jumped up and down waving their mittens like cheerleaders. Noah and Grace pedaled faster. Their front tires keeping close with each other, neither gaining nor fading. Their legs pumped as fast as Zack had ever seen them. The girls flipped their scarves across to each other making racing tapes and the kids went through the scarves like Olympic racers.
“I won!” yelled Grace.
“Did not! I won!” said Noah.
Zack reached the finish line. All the girls were laughing at the cute little kids.
“Oh, so adorable!”
“Kids, it looked like you tied. I think you both won.”
“That’s what we saw.” two of the girls said at the same time, then “Jinx!” pointing and smiling at each other with lips marked with matching lipstick that perfectly lined their lips.
“Can your kids have these?” a girl in a long bubbly purple coat held the sticks of two small lollipops like a bank gives out. Zack saw how her nail polish matched the color of her coat.
Zack nodded.
She said, “Kids, your very own fan club has awards for you –”
“Oooo good idea, Violet.”
“Candy!” said Noah.
“Candy? Oh Yes!” said Grace.
Violet held the sticks out to the kids. They dropped their bikes in the middle of the path and walked over to the candy. She bent over at the waist so her face was at their eye level, “A special award for each of you.”
The other girls came close, “What are your names?”
“I’m Noah.”
“Grace!” she hopped.
Violet pulled away.
“Hey, thanks.” Zack said to Violet. “I think you and your friends just made their whole day.”
“You’ve got some cute children.”
Her aromatic perfume touched him like a green fern from under the snow. “What classes are you taking? Assuming you’re in college?”
“We are, University of Michigan. I’m in Biology,” then she pointed to the other girls, “Engineer, Engineer, English, Psychology, and Physics.”
“Quite a good mix. Now that you told me everyone’s names, what are all of you studying?”
“That’s pretty funny. I see where your kids get their cuteness,” she said. “We came home for the weekend. Like a big girl’s sleepover.”
“That is a good weekend – which I should let you get back to. The temperature may drop more and make bike riding unpleasant.”
She sighed, “Yeah. We have a big schedule planned.”
Zack said, “Noah and Grace, get your bikes. Time to ride home.”
The girls laughed, “Bye kids!” They blew kisses at Noah and Grace as they picked up their bikes and rode back. Zack waved, “Have a great weekend girls.”
The children finished their candy before they came home. Zack heard them crunching the candy off the sticks in the car. Zack put the bikes away. The children raced ahead and made a whirl of coats and boots and mittens. Zack picked everything up. He hung up the last of the coats and Grace ran back to Zack.
She hugged Zack in a big full-body grip, “Daddy, I had a lot of fun riding bikes!”
Noah said from the other room, “Yes Dad! It was fun! We need to go back next weekend!”
“Sure, we can go back. Now we know where it’s at we’ll have to go more often. There are other trails in the area we can go on too. Did you know those used to be old train tracks they converted in the park?”
“That’s nice, Dad.” Noah asked, “Can we have hot chocolate?”
-:-:-:-O-:-:-:-
Nick’s arms wrapped around Lydia as they lay on the bed. Her mind still buzzed with sex. She felt Nick’s body relax around her as the hotel room clock ticked over to four in the afternoon. She turned over in Nick’s arms and kissed him. She playfully ran her finger nails across his chest hair, “I can’t believe Zack hasn’t figured out it’s not all work.”
Nick ran his fingers from her shoulder up her neck and pulled her head closer, “Stacy is clueless too. It’s good though.” He kissed Lydia. Then his fingers stroked down her chest until it touched her hardening nipple.
“Yes,” Lydia’s eyes closed, “and yes.” She ran her fingers down Nick’s stomach and tugged at him, splaying her legs apart and rolling her hips against him, whispering, “I want you in me –”
-:-:-:-O-:-:-:-
Zack pumped the floor jack raising his ten year old Taurus. Long strokes of the jack handle lifted the car in surges. The tires scrubbed on the garage cement floor until the front of the car appeared to hover. He pushed stands under the vehicle and backed off the floor jack until the car settled on the stands. He stacked wood blocks under the frame as backup in case something happened with the jack stands.
Noah banged through the garage door, “Dad. Can we watch television?”
“What do you want to watch?”
“The four o’clock cartoons – on PBS!”
“Ok, until I get done here.”
“Thanks, Dad!” Noah ran back inside, the door banged and shook the wall.
Not having Lydia’s car next to him made his work easier. She had a new car and a much more expensive car than his. She argued for needing a fancy car for her job – couldn’t drive some old beater as an executive of a national corporation. Zack didn’t want the payments but had relented. She had been less argumentative after getting that car – for a few weeks.
He tugged the oil catch tray under the crank drain then wrenched off the drain plug and the filter. He popped the hood and inspected the wiring and fluid levels while the oil drizzled out of the car like smooth dark honey. He teased the rubber boots from the nipple tips of the spark plugs. He slid his deep well socket carefully into the engine cavities around the fragile ceramic plugs and ratcheted each of them out. He checked the tip gaps and burn residue left on the plugs. The light combustion products on the plugs indicated the engine burned clean. He finger-tightened each of the plugs to ensure the fine threads chased their intended tracks and then cinched each down with the socket. He buttoned up the oil drain, spun on a new filter, and filled the engine with fresh oil. He started the car and let it run to distribute the new oil before shutting it down and closing the hood. He jacked the car off the stands and pulled them and the blocks out from under the car then eased the vehicle to the floor. Zack squirted hand cleanser on his fingers and rubbed them clean with a fresh shop rag. Lydia pulled her car in and got out as Zack slid the stands under the bench where he stored them. Zack asked, “Decided against dinner with
your mother?”
“Yeah,” Lydia yanked at the nearly full canvas work bag and trudged toward the door.
Zack wiped under his nails, “Hey, didn’t you leave with a black and red shirt on? I haven’t seen this blue one.”
“Uh … I spilled salad dressing on it at lunch.”
“If I were more suspicious I’d think you’re having an affair.”
Lydia’s phone buzzed. She snapped it out of her purse. Lydia saw Nicholas’ text setting up a time for tomorrow. She couldn’t do that so soon. “Yeah, right … Work stuff.” She typed a quick response. As she tucked her phone back in her purse she asked, “Hey, did you get the mail?” She pulled opened the door to the house.
“In a little while,” Zack.
“I want to know when you’re going to do it. Nothing gets done around here unless I lead you by the nose.”
“It’s just the damn mail,” Zack said, hanging the rag on a hook.
“I’m waiting for the monthly investment summary.”
“It will be the same if we get it tomorrow.”
“I asked you to do it and you’re not. Please! Go check the mail.” the door boomed hollow when it closed.
Zack walked to the mailbox. He found a pair of bills and a raft of advertising but no investment summary. He came in and sorted everything into the appropriate spots and heard Lydia in the other room raising her voice again, directed at Grace, “Where are your glasses?”
Grace mumbled something.
Zack looked in the pantry. He sighed and reached for the spaghetti noodle box.
“Grace, did you look in your room?”
Zack put a pot of water on the stove to heat the noodles and turned the water up to boil.
Grace scampered off.
Lydia yelled after her, “I can’t believe your father isn’t helping me look for them. He should be keeping track of those glasses. I spent all my time taking you to the store.”
Zack twisted the top off a jar of spaghetti sauce to pour over the noodles when done. That with a side of green beans from a can. He walked into the living room, “Why so toxic?”
Cabernet Zin (The Southern California Wine Country Series) Page 6