Wine&Dine: another romance for the over 40

by L. B. Dunbar

  “I am not him,” Garrett growls, drawing me out of my memories. He’s right. He’s not. I thought he was so much more, and I was wrong.

  “I need you to leave.” I eye the decimated room around us. I’m at a breaking point, and Garrett must sense the destruction within me because he backs away.

  “You promised you wouldn’t leave,” he whispers like a petulant child not getting his way. I rack my brain for a retort—some promise he made me—but I come up short. He gave me everything, yet I took it all for more than it was.

  The Wizard never assured Dorothy he’d take care of her, and Garrett has done the same thing to me.

  28

  There’s no place like home

  [Dolores]

  Within fifteen minutes of Garrett’s silent exit, I’m on my way to Magnolia’s. As I near her home, it looks like something from another dimension, and it’s a similar sensation as when I entered my diner. I feel like I’m in some kind of Twilight Zone episode. Scaffolding on the outside of the three-story house proves work has been done on the roof and repairs are being made to the clapboard. All the shutters have been removed and stand propped along the side of the house. The front porch has been rebuilt with new, unpainted columns holding up a repaired overhang.

  When I enter the house, brown paper covers the hardwood floors leading down the hallway to the kitchen. I pass the front two parlors, one on either side of the main hall, then the dining room and the grand staircase opposite it.

  “Who’s there?”

  I don’t answer as I enter what looks like the makings of a kitchen straight out of a home improvement magazine. A half wall has been taken down, opening the area and allowing for a better breakfast bar. The original cupboards have been removed, and white base cabinets stand in a new configuration to fill the space. A light gray wood flooring gives the old kitchen a fresh look. Countertops and modern appliances are missing, though.

  “Magnolia?” Our grandmother has never allowed us to call her grandmother, and as I stand in the nonfunctioning space, I wonder where she is.

  “Breakfast room.”

  I walk through the second entrance to the kitchen and into a little nook of a room with a green-painted built-in cabinet to my right and a small circular table situated near a bay window. Magnolia sits within the window area. Both Mati Rathstone, Denton’s girl, and her best friend, Cora Conrad, are present.

  Mati’s a petite woman with an athletic build and a fiery spirit to match the lion-like red hair. Her bark-brown eyes give me a sympathetic look. Her new best friend, on the other hand, is a platinum blonde, thin and snarky as ever after all these years. Her temper has settled a little since her divorce, which is the connection between the unlikely pair. The death of Mati’s husband and Cora’s divorce drew the two single women together, though Mati isn’t single anymore. She has Denton.

  Mati stands to hug me, and I let her envelop me, though I don’t return the embrace. I feel empty inside, and although her arms touch me, I can’t feel the comfort she’s trying to give me.

  “Are you mad?” she asks, pulling back and searching my face.

  “I don’t think mad describes it.”

  Cora sets a mug of tea on the edge of the table near me, and I take in my surroundings. The breakfast room is a substitute kitchen with a Keurig machine on the table. A toaster oven sits on the built-in cabinet next to a single old-fashioned hot plate.

  “What’s going on here?” I ask, tired of all the topsy-turvy construction I had no say in. I step back from Mati, skip the offer of tea, and swipe my hand through my hair, holding a clump of it at my neck.

  “Denton wanted to fix the place up a bit as he…we…live here.”

  “You live here?” I shriek, questioning Mati who had her own home near town. At least, when I left for California, she did.

  “The university plans to rent me an apartment at the beginning of the semester, so I sold my house to Jaxson…” Her voice drifts, and she glances down at her feet. Mati has a new job. This I already knew, but I wait for more details about why her son bought her home. She doesn’t explain. “A few changes have happened since you left.”

  “I can see that,” I snap with sharp sarcasm, twisting my head to look around the breakfast room. I’m expecting Martians to walk in any minute and punk me. Joke’s on you, Dolores. You’ve entered an alternate universe. I’m losing my mind.

  “He had the best of intentions,” Mati offers, interrupting my thoughts, and defending Denton. “But I think he got in over his head with two projects at once, and as the diner is yours… well, I no longer thought it was right for him to take over without you. I thought you might want a say in what happens.”

  “Ya think?” I bark again, dragging out my Southern drawl to match hers. Sarcasm mixes with the exhaustion catching up to me. “I just don’t understand why you didn’t call me sooner. Why no one thought to call me before anything ever happened?” I’m speaking to the air because neither Mati nor Cora are at the heart of my issues. Neither is my grandmother who addresses me.

  “Girl, come give me a hug and take a load off those shoulders.” This woman knows me. I’m ready to detonate all over this small room. “You look like you’re gonna run away again.”

  I’d like to run again, only I have nowhere to go.

  My grandmother’s words bring fresh tears to my eyes. I haven’t been very faithful to her as I left without a word and only spoke with her a handful of times in my absence. I round the table and reach down for the matron of my family. This woman is my everything. She saw my father for who he was and always found ways to go around his back. And she did it with grand gestures like gifting me the diner when he didn’t want to send me to college and giving Denton a guitar and letting him practice at her home because she knew he needed a way out of this town. Remiss in my behavior, I step over to her and wrap gentle arms around her frail figure.

  When I pull back, her pop bottle-shaped glasses magnify her eyes, which seem extra wide and concerned behind her lenses.

  “Missed you, girl.” The words break me again, and I swipe at loose tears leaking down my cheeks. She cups my face like she did when I was a child, and her eyes scan my face. “Take a seat.”

  I sit where Mati was, and Mati sits next to me.

  “Tell me all about California,” Magnolia says with hesitant encouragement as if I’ve been on an adventure. She’s trying to distract me, but I don’t want to think about California, or Denton’s apartment, or the man who lived across the hall. He was my adventure, not the destination of where I was. I won’t know where to begin on my journey of self-discovery without spilling all the glory and guts of being with him.

  Garrett.

  He looked so broken standing in the diner.

  But I’m broken as well by his withholding the truth and Denton’s lies.

  Are you here for the contracts? I need more answers.

  “There isn’t much to tell,” I lie to myself. “I can’t think of California right now. I need to think about my diner.”

  “I want to know more about the hunky man at my hotel,” Cora teases, wiggling her brows as she tries a second attempt to draw me away from the issues at hand. “He’s a dream on two legs. Denton’s friend, correct? Where do I find more friends like him?” Cora eyes Mati, and Mati weakly smiles. Cora is another woman over forty in Blue Ridge, and the pickings for available men are slim. We saw a few of Denton’s old band members this October, but they are all married. Of course, there are all the Harrington brothers, but I don’t think those boys want a thing to do with Corabelle Conrad.

  “I don’t know that I’d trust Denton’s judgment,” I snark, ignoring Cora’s description of Garrett, willing myself not to think of the too-attractive man and what he might be doing checking into her lodge. Why is he here? “His name is Garrett Fox.”

  “And what’s he doing in Georgia?” Cora begs.

  “He’s here on business.” The words spilled from my lips, tasting bitter on my tongue.

>   “He’s here for Dolores,” a male voice states, and we all turn to see my brother standing in the doorway between the breakfast room and the dining room.

  “He is not,” I snark before noting a tap, tap, tap on the brown paper in the hallway like nails drumming on a desk.

  “No man travels from Los Angeles to Blue Ridge, Georgia, unless it’s about a woman.” Denton’s expression softens, and he gazes down at Mati who blushes. My stomach feels sick as I witness their love.

  “He’s here for business,” I throw out at my brother, reminding him of what I just learned.

  Denton shakes his head. “Speaking of being here, can you tell me why you didn’t call to mention you were coming home?”

  “Surprise,” I jest without humor, mockingly waving jazz hands at him. Only, I’m the one surprised by everything. The tap, tap, tap grows louder with a gentle thump, thump intermixing. The sound becomes clear as a chocolate lab rushes into the breakfast nook.

  “Wally?” I choke as the dog trots. His tail wags weakly as he saunters to me with his eyes lowered and his ears back. I practically fall from the chair, folding to my knees to draw him into me. He allows me to curl around him, and I nuzzle my face into his neck. For the first time in my life, I take comfort from an animal.

  “How did you get here?” I ask him as if the dog can answer for himself.

  “I take it you recognize this pup?” Magnolia teases.

  “He belongs to…” How do I describe my relationship with the owner? We don’t seem to have one. “Denton’s neighbor from California.”

  “The one who crossed a country to see you,” Denton adds.

  “I like your new hair,” Cora interjects, feeling the rising family tension in the room and attempting to deflect it again. “Very chic. You look amazing.” Cora’s undergone a change herself since her divorce. She’s the first person to act like my transformation isn’t peculiar. Once again, I have Garrett to credit for the change in me. My ribs hurt, and suddenly, I feel short of breath as I recall the salon and shopping. “Thank you. I have some new clothes, too, but I left them all in California.”

  “Actually, they’re out in my truck,” Denton interjects.

  “What?”

  “Garrett packed you a suitcase and brought it with him. He called me to meet him at the lodge. It’s how I have Wally. He thought the dog would bring you comfort.”

  I huff.

  I hate dogs.

  But as my hands scratch behind Wally’s ears, and he looks up at me with his strange blue eyes, tears blur my vision again. I don’t hate Wally. I hate Garrett. He thinks of everything. And I really, really hate him.

  Don’t lie to yourself, Dolores, my heart says.

  I want to ask why Garrett didn’t bring Wally here himself, but then again, he parted from the diner with the final word.

  In my head, I see Garrett’s stricken face as we stare at one another.

  Eyes that typically search for the other’s soul can’t handle the intensity of Garrett’s glare. I’m the first to pull away. When I do, I hear Garrett’s resolve in an exasperated sigh. He reaches for my cheek, and I don’t flinch away. My eyes close when he leans in for a kiss at the corner of my mouth.

  “I’m leaving you, then,” he whispers, before pulling back and walking out of the diner.

  “He really checked into the Lodge?” I ask even though Cora has already clarified this information, and Wally at my feet confirms it.

  “Says he’ll be staying a while. We didn’t get into too many particulars. He told me to come check on you.”

  Garrett.

  “I’m fine,” I lie, and Mati’s eyes bore into the side of my head. Magnolia pats my hand either in sympathy or as if she knows better—I’m not fine. I’m dying inside with thoughts of my demolished diner, the improvements to Magnolia’s, and Garrett’s presence in Georgia.

  “This guy looks like he needs something to eat,” Magnolia addresses Wally, who she reaches to give a tender pat, and he obliges her hand by moving toward her. Traitor. His tail begins to flop, flop, flop at the excitement in Magnolia’s voice. She stands on shaky legs, and my brow pinches. Has she always been so deliberate in her movements? She steadies herself with a hand on the table before shuffling toward the kitchen with the aid of her cane. Wally follows her like a trusty guard dog, sticking to her side with her slower pace.

  “Is she okay?” I turn to Denton, worried the dramatic changes have taken a toll on her.

  “She’s fine. She loves the improvements and has been a part of every decision we’ve made.”

  “We?” I snort. “Well, at least she’s been offered the courtesy.”

  Denton sighs. “I’ll set up a meeting with Griffin, and he can show you the plans for the diner. They’ve only done structural work. Updating plumbing and electricity so far.”

  “How about if I call Griffin and take over from here?” My blood begins to boil again. I don’t need Denton giving me a rundown of what’s been done. What’s done is done. I need to salvage my diner.

  “I only wanted to surprise you,” Denton says, his voice dropping as his arms cross over his chest. “If you had stayed in California a little longer, it would have all been finished.”

  “And it wouldn’t have been mine,” I snap. “It would have been all your ideas. What you thought best, not me.” I have my own ideas for my restaurant. How I want it to look. What brand I want it to have. Where I want it to go next. Denton stares at me, and I feel the weight of Mati’s and Cora’s eyes at my back. “I know I should be grateful somehow, but I can’t find gratitude at the moment. You must see this is more than a surprise. This is a shock. Gross negligence of what I’d want. You didn’t consult me on anything.”

  A tiny bit of guilt sparks inside. Magnolia gave me the diner. Not both of us. Me alone.

  A woman’s place is in the kitchen as long as she owns it.

  I fought the guilt for years until Denton made his millions, traveled the world, and did things I’d never do because I was the one with the diner, not him. I let the guilt go and owned my destiny: Dolores’s Diner. Which is all the more reason I’m angry. It’s mine, not his.

  “I just wanted to offer you a little breathing room.” His voice remains apologetic, and I appreciate the thought. I do. But I can’t get over my irritation. It’s too much at once, and I can’t even consider the house and Magnolia’s land yet.

  I’m suddenly tired, so very tired.

  “Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down?” Cora suggests like she lives here and is part of the family. Mati and she have been visiting Magnolia regularly, and then my sick mother for the past year, so in many ways, Cora has blended in with us.

  “I’m afraid what I’ll find upstairs.” I glare at Denton. We each have a room in the seven-bedroom home, albeit antiquated in many ways. Our mother moved in with her mother when our father died years ago. She returned to her childhood bedroom with minor updates and lived the remainder of her days in this house. I assumed I’d live my final days in this house as well, but Denton’s takeover has me questioning everything.

  “Nothing upstairs has been touched yet,” Denton says, though I find his words less than reassuring.

  “I think I’ll head upstairs for a while then.” I nod, dismissing my brother. We have nothing more to say at the moment, and when I exit the room, I find Wally at Magnolia’s feet as she sits in her corner chair in the front room. She waves a hand, swiping upward, directing me to my room, and I’m happy to oblige. I’m relieved to be at Magnolia’s because I don’t think I can face a night alone in my house. When I snuck in this morning for a quick shower, I already felt the familiar loneliness of living there. Being in Magnolia’s for a few days as I re-acclimate to Blue Ridge is just what I need.

  I dismiss the yearning for someone else I might need.

  Welcome back to Kansas, Dorothy.

  29

  Best friend’s older sister

  [Garrett]

  I give Dolores the night, but th
e next day, I find the infamous Magnolia McIntyre homestead, thanks to the help of a nosy busybody named Cora Conrad, the owner of Conrad Lodge where I booked a room.

  “No,” Denton says, rushing off what looks like a newly built front porch. He holds both his hands up to me as I approach, and I stop in the path. It snowed overnight, and I’m thankful I looked at the weather before I hopped a plane for the other side of the country. I shove my hands into my puffy jacket and huff out a steamy breath as Denton storms toward me. “She doesn’t need you here.”

  I glare at Denton. “Are we fucking sixteen? As I told you yesterday, she’s a big girl, Denton, and can make her own decisions. Which, I might add, you took from her.”

  When Denton came to pick up Wally from me, we didn’t say more than a few words to one another. Everyone needed a minute to cool down, but today is a new day, and I want to see my girl. Denton stops, his breath coming out in a mist of warm air in the cold morning. He glares back at me. “I thought you told her about the contract.”

  “Why would I tell her? I didn’t realize it involved her.” I’m lying to myself, though. We’d talked often about our grandparents, and then I took her to Napa where she had all these ideas about a vineyard. I could see it all in my head, and while Denton’s suggestion had been in jest, the plans took off for me. Instant gratification man. I’d called him on Monday after our weekend away to solidify the contracts for review. He promised he’d allow me to use the land for profit in exchange for the quote-unquote investment loan I’d given him. I’d planned to tell Dolores everything after the gala event. I had big plans for that night as well.

  Dreams. Silly pipe dreams. Again.

  Denton turns his head, and I follow the line of his vision. The flat land goes on for miles. The house is the only thing standing, along with a protective surrounding of trees. Rehabbing the home is underway, and I knew this when I saw him in Atlanta. He wanted to do something nice for his grandmother. After all, she’s the one who bought him a guitar and allowed him to practice at her home, giving him a dream like my granddad gave me. He told me he hoped to make it into a bed and breakfast one day but was in no rush. The tourism industry in the small community was on an upward trajectory, which gave me another reason that a winery here would be a sound investment.