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Authors: Addison Westlake

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BOOK: Christmas in Wine Country
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Had she just angrily asserted her right to attend a Greenpeace march? With a laugh of disbelief, she had a memory of her next door neighbor Sophomore year of college. Robin, she thought her name was. A pale girl with long, stringy hair, she’d had always been canvassing for some environmental cause or other. Lila had continually frustrated her with her lack of activism. On Earth Day she’d accosted Lila with an outburst—oft-repeated by Annie in the following weeks—“Don’t you care!?!” Well, Robin would be proud of her now, Lila thought wryly. Apparently she was behind a full-scale environmental rebellion at a large and powerful local business.

Not that that was possible, Lila shook her head and took a sip of water. Deciding her favorite part of the encounter had to be when Vanessa angrily asserted that Jake was a winner, Lila picked herself up and started to head next door. She was pretty sure
Annie and maybe Zoe would be there and a scene of this magnitude required much re-enactment and analysis in the company of friends.

CHAPTER 14: Don’t Stop
Believin
'

Lila rolled over the waistband of her sweatpants once again, marveling at how big she used to wear her clothes back in college. Sure, she knew she used to be ten, maybe fifteen pounds heavier than she was now, but the sweatpants would have fit two of her. So much for her wild, younger years. She’d pulled them on today, plus an old, tattered sweatshirt and Red
Sox cap for her “day off”, a.k.a. day working nonstop refurbishing the café.

Running a hand over the newly varnished surface of the cabinets, Lila admired the rich, chestnut brown.

“Makes you want to buy some coffee, right?” Annie observed beside her.

“And a few books,” Lila agreed.

One of the many guys who worked with Pete climbed down from a ladder where he’d been drilling holes and dusted off his jeans. “All right, I’ll be back in a few hours. After lunch.”

“No, don’t go yet!” Annie exclaimed. “I need you to take a look at the shelving out back.” Having left her job at the chocolate shop to oversee the transformation of the café, Annie’s inner sheepdog had emerged. Relentless and vigilant, she continually rounded up the troops and re-focused everyone on task.

“They have me stringing up lights for the town Christmas party on Saturday.” The guy shrugged into his jacket and headed for the door. “I’ll be back.”

“That party,” Annie exhaled. “It’s all anyone’s talking about.”

“You know it’s going to be fun,” Lila said, well used to Annie’s gruffness under pressure. “You can put Charlotte in something poofy and velvety and let her run around and eat too many sweets.” Come to think of it, that sounded like a good plan for herself, too. “They’re even predicting a chance of snow for Saturday night. How cool would that be?”

“Yeah,” Annie agreed, grudgingly. “We just have a lot of work to do. Speaking of, how’d it go with the croissant guy yesterday?”

Pulling out her notes, Lila began filling Annie in on the progress she’d been making building relationships with vendors. The phrase had meant nothing to her a month ago; now she knew a guy who knew a guy all over Sonoma County in the realm of baked sweets, breads and pastries. Interested in keeping everything fresh and local in the café, Lila wasn’t sure yet about organic—the price shot up considerably. She figured they’d try a few items and let the customers be their guide.

“So, you’re thinking we go organic with the berry tarts?” Annie observed, making her way through Lila’s notepad scrawl.

“I read this article about what makes the most sense to spend money on buying organic. I guess berries have a thin skin so they get exposed to the pesticides.”

Looking up at her with amusement, Annie observed, “You are Little Miss Farm Girl.”

Lila rolled her eyes in response. “I still can’t believe that even happened. Did Vanessa really come by the bookstore Monday night?”

“To warn you off her man?” Annie completed the question. “Yes, I believe she did.” With a laugh, she added, “I love how you told her off—how you were damn well going to go to that Greenpeace march with Jake.”

“I don’t even know what came out of my mouth.”

“I always knew that girl was crazy.” Annie shook her head. “Now, how far do you think we go with the kids’ snacks?” she asked, refocusing them on the menu.

Though discussing cheese sticks and squeezable Go-Gurts, Lila’s thoughts remained where they seemed to have taken up stubborn lodging over the past few days: trying to make sense of Vanessa’s visit. Annie seemed content to simply laugh it off, seeing it as evidence of Vanessa’s pure insanity. As any comic book could tell you, one of the pitfalls of getting wrapped up in a megalomaniac plot to take over the world is you run the risk of paranoia leading you to perceive enemies in the most unlikely and impossible places.

Though Lila had had fun laughing at it all, she wasn’t able to dismiss it with such ease. Bits of Vanessa’s accusations kept at it in her head like an overplayed song on the radio. What did Vanessa mean that she kept hearing Lila’s name at all the wrong times? What kind of choices was Jake making that Vanessa seemed to credit to Lila? Was it possible that Lila had actually said something to Jake he’d remembered and referenced, even felt guided by? All she could seem to remember were a string of pratfalls and hideous moments involving props like red licorice hanging out of her mouth and peaches strewn across the road.

“Morning you two.” Marion poked her head into the store for her daily briefing. Well past the elbow grease phase of her life, she’d informed Annie and Lila that she just wanted updates on the progress of the remodel.

Not ten minutes had elapsed after Marion left before Zoe stopped by. “See, we’re already becoming the place to hang out,” Annie declared.

“Were you with Big Bob again this morning?” Lila asked. Zoe wore black stretchy yoga pants and a zip-up hoodie over a fitted tank top, but as that was pretty much her daily uniform it didn’t necessarily mean she’d dressed for work.

“Every morning this week,” Zoe confirmed. “He’s so committed. Can you believe this guy, with all his world travels and
foi
e
gras and God knows what else, he’d never had raw pumpkin seeds until this morning?” Taking a small, metal container out of her pocket and unscrewing the top, she set out the pumpkin seeds on the counter as a snack. Taking a handful, Lila found them a little chewy. “He wants me to be his personal health coach.”

“Wow,” Lila said, enjoying Zoe’s proud glow but wondering exactly what that entailed. “So you’re…”

“Finding him a vegan chef,” Zoe ticked the task off on her finger. “Then seeing about turning his study into a center for meditation, yoga and massage.”

“That sounds nice,” Lila agreed.

“It’s so perfect.” Zoe, as was frequently the case, fairly sparked with animation and enthusiasm. “This morning a chickadee on a bare branch outside the window broke into song exactly when we were done chanting.”

Lila listened as Zoe continued to describe the moment of harmony with spirit and nature and wondered if she needed to warn her about Vanessa. Zoe seemed like a much more dangerous influence on the family business than Lila could ever hope to be.

“So, their assistant winemaker is this great guy,” Zoe continued. “Liver energy’s a little blocked so he’s considering a detox. But anyway he told me there’s a big civil war going on at the vineyard over Jake becoming CEO.”
             
“So we’ve heard,” Annie agreed.

“I guess Jake wants to stop spraying,” Zoe told them proudly.

“Spaying has got to stop,” Godfrey agreed, suddenly on the scene. “Especially if you’re talking strays. And don’t even get me started about the roving medical vans that drive around and pick up dogs. I should know,” he added with a shudder. “When did Jake pick up the cause?” he asked Zoe.

As Zoe and Godfrey continued their conversation, animated and in sync over entirely different subjects, Lila looked at the clock and realized it was nearly lunch time. Standing, she headed over toward the kitchen to heat up some soup, guessing that was why Godfrey had stopped by. 

Back in a minute with a heated Tupperware container, Zoe caught sight of the food and exclaimed, “That’s right! I need to head to the market!” Gathering up her
shoulder bag, she explained, “I’m in charge of the vegan apps for the Christmas party and I need to make sure I have enough seitan. That stuff goes like hotcakes and Andy doesn’t always keep enough in stock.” Wondering what market Zoe shopped at where the seitan went like hotcakes, Lila bid her goodbye and handed Godfrey his stew.

With a nod of acceptance, he said, “I’m in charge of special effects.”

“For the party?” 

“The holiday party,” Godfrey confirmed.

“Does anyone else know this, Godfrey?” Lila asked suspiciously.

“It’s a surprise,” he agreed, and then startled her by asking, “Were you talking about Jake Endicott when I walked in?” 

“Um, I think we all were.”

“Has he declared himself yet?”

“Declared…?”

“You know…” Godfrey arched an eyebrow and gave her a knowing look which Lila still didn’t quite know how to interpret.

“I haven’t heard from him, if that’s what you mean,” Lila offered.

Walking toward the door, Godfrey assured her, “He’ll be back. It’s not over. It’s like Chekov said…” Turning toward her in the doorway, Godfrey looked back and quoted: ‘If you introduce a gun in act one, it had better go off in act three.’”

*
             
*
             
*

             
Taking two parkas and sliding a numbered cardboard square across the counter, Lila turned behind her into the Community Center office-turned-coatroom for the holiday party. She was on coat check duty for the first hour, her contribution in addition to the jam squares, which had turned out pretty nicely if she did say so herself, and it afforded her a good opportunity to check out who all was turning out and what all they were wearing.

Zoe had been successful in persuading Lila on the retro dressing front—in part. After she’d opened her magic closet to reveal at least a dozen fabulous vintage dresses ranging from flapper to mod, Lila had fallen rapidly and deeply in love with a pale pink Jackie-O sleeveless A-line. In a thick satin, it was classically simple, adorned by only a small bow at the high waist. With a set of pearls and some silver peep-toe heels, Lila felt like a princess.

The beehives hadn’t been too hard to talk Zoe out of; a mention of aerosol and the environment and Zoe’s guilt had kicked in hard. As a result, they went to the party with long and loose curls, which suited them both. And Zoe still managed to look fabulous in a 1950s lemon chiffon strapless prom dress.

It was only 6:30pm, but they already had a great turnout. Scheduled to go until 11, Lila had heard from Annie that the event was a three-parter. First part: babies and seniors. Next: the hardworking people of Redwood Cove let loose. Then, most years, the evening apparently continued on afterhours as well, transitioning to Ted’s with things growing steadily more questionable and raunchy in what Annie described as “a SketchFest.”

For now, however, Lila was enjoying seeing her storytime regulars all decked out in their finest. So far, she’d coat-checked fairy wings, a Thomas the Tank Engine raincoat, and an unwieldy skunk costume that had gone from must-have to get-it-off-me-now in the car ride over.

Emma Endicott had arrived with her parents, Oliver and Ashley. Neither parent had registered so much as a flicker of recognition, but the sight of Lila had sparked an epic Want Mr. Meows Right Now tantrum in Emma. Only the fervent promise of cookies and cake just inside the next room had resolved it.

Try as she might to pretend she wasn’t, Lila was on the lookout for the taller, darker haired Endicott brother. If Jake had not only made it to the town’s Fourth of July parade but driven a truck bearing a middle school band brutally massacring Purple Haze, he seemed likely to make it to the far less taxing town holiday party. Then again, he could be traveling. He could just be too busy.

Or he could be walking in that very moment in a slightly rumpled and soft looking chocolaty brown sweater and cords. Hand up messing with the back of his hair in a gesture she now felt she knew well—could be thinking, could be a little nervous or uncomfortable about something—he approached the coat check.

“Now don’t lose the scarf,” an older woman was instructing Lila. “It’s handmade.”

“I’ll wrap it double.” Lila reassured her, taking a hanger and winding the scarf around three times just to be sure.

“They’ve put you to work, I see,” Jake observed, looking in at the racks of coats.

“Yeah, just for an hour.” Lila hung up the jacket in what might or might not have been the correct location with hands she wished hadn’t started shaking slightly.

“Lots of coats back there.” He continued to look back into the room and decidedly not at Lila.

“There’s a whole bunch,” Lila agreed, joining him in looking at them all. After several seconds yawned and stretched their way awkwardly along, she cleared her throat and asked, “Would you like to check your coat?”

He had no coat, she realized as she looked toward though not directly at him and caught sight once again of the inviting chocolate sweater.

BOOK: Christmas in Wine Country
4.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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