One Foot in the Grape (6 page)

To my relief the front bell rang, and Veronica shot out of her chair. For a woman in pleats and pearls, she could move. Moments later she led Ross and Thomas, loaded with platters, into the room.

“Hello, everyone,” Ross and Thomas chimed in unison. “Pen, would you mind moving that vase over just a bit?”

I helped Ross arrange the trays of food, glad to be busy. Thomas immediately went over and pulled up a chair next to Stephen. Within minutes, they were deep in conversation.

“Look at Thomas. He can get anyone to talk,” Ross said.

I cut into the spinach tart. “Stephen doesn't say much, does he?”

“He's never had much to say, and lately he says even less. You'd think with the additional responsibilities around here he'd be more confident, but to me it seems just the opposite.”

A loud rap on the glass doors stopped us. Hayley stood outside the door along with Marvin Karp, and neither looked pleased to be there. Hayley had her arms crossed and her cheeks were pink. Marvin was turned away from her and had his hands on his hips.

Antonia kept Marvin because if anyone knew more about wine, I'd yet to meet them. I looked at his sullen face, wondering if he was worth it. I was lucky to have Connor as my manager. Except for their skill, the two men couldn't be more different.

I unlocked the door. Hayley dove through and pulled me over to Ross.

“What a jerk,” Hayley whispered. “He told me our Cabernet would make a good cooking wine.”

My face grew hot with anger. “He's always got something nasty to say. It's time we had a talk.”

Ross handed me a cracker with mushroom paté. “Don't. That's what he wants. Besides, it does make a good cooking wine. I drink it all the time while I'm cooking.”

I took a deep breath. Ross was right. Marvin would love to know he'd gotten to me. I ate the cracker while Hayley ran her hands through her hair and smiled at Ross.

Marvin took a seat on the edge of the fireplace hearth and pulled out a newspaper from under his arm. He hadn't acknowledged anyone in the room, and they in turn ignored
him. Stephen and Chantal spoke together in soft tones on the couch while Veronica straightened a book on the shelf.

“What's wrong with him anyway?”

“I can't answer in general,” Hayley said, “but right now he doesn't want to be here. Said he has better things to do than this. Of course, you'd never know it. If you look closely, that's a horse race schedule he's reading.”

Hayley leaned back in her chair and looked out the side window. “There's a car pulling into the drive. Black Aston Martin. Very cool.”

Ross nodded. “That would be Francesca and Brice.”

“I met Francesca last night.” I rolled my eyes. “That was a pleasant experience. What kind of doctor is her husband?”

“A cardiologist. He divides his time between offices in the city and at the hospital here. They come into the restaurant and drive my staff crazy. Impossible to please. Plus she always wants me to comp her bill, just because her mother owns the building. What sense does that make? Of course, I never do. Let her eat somewhere else.”

“You know she won't. You have the best restaurant in town.”

“Oh, that's right. I do.” He grinned. “Anyway, I've heard her talking at dinner. She's always too loud to ignore—”

“Like you try,” I said.

“Do you want to hear or not? Anyway, she doesn't get along with Stephen. Apparently she doesn't think Stephen's doing a good job of running the winery. She could do better if given the chance. Of course, she's also angry with Antonia for that.”

“That's an understatement. She made it clear to me last night how she feels.”

“If you think the stress level in here is high now, just wait until they walk in.”

The sound of heels striking the flagstone foyer grew louder. Stephen wiped his forehead and kept his eyes away from the door, while Veronica fiddled with her pearls until they sounded like castanets. Antonia had returned with Connor and as she turned to the door the smile dropped from her face. The only family member who didn't react was Chantal, who looked bored and sullen.

“God, I hate coming here on Fridays. Traffic was terrible.”

I caught a glimpse of very expensive but serious shoes as they traveled to the bar, where a Coach attaché and handbag were unceremoniously dumped on the floor. Paperwork fell out of her bag. Francesca snatched it from the ground and slapped it on the bar. She looked up.

“What, a party? And you didn't even invite me?”

Her hair was once again pulled into a tight bun, and she wore the same red lipstick. I was struck by how opposite she was from Chantal, now playing with the fringe on the couch pillow.

Antonia greeted her daughter with a slight nod. It was easy to see she was still upset over last night. She kept a tight grip on her cane, and she wouldn't look at Francesca.

“We're meeting to review festival details, and we haven't started yet. Will you be here the entire weekend?”

“Of course. I'm looking forward to some quality time with the family. Besides, I haven't seen all of the improvements Stephen's made.”

The sarcasm was evident in her voice. Francesca enunciated every word, giving it a weight and presence all its own. She must be hell in a courtroom.

Brice stood just inside the door of the library and clutched a cell phone to his ear. He gave a small wave with a manicured hand and turned to continue the conversation.

Francesca poured herself a sherry, perched on one of the bar stools and tapped short scarlet nails against her glass. “I might as well stick around to hear what the plan is.”

“We'll wait a few more minutes. The only person who isn't here yet is Todd,” Antonia said.

“Why do you need to wait for him?” Francesca asked.

“He's responsible for coordinating shifts in the tasting booths.” Stephen had a slight frown.

Connor settled next to me as a brisk knock announced Todd's arrival. He pushed open the glass doors. Once again, he wore jeans and a white fitted shirt. He also had on a Stetson hat that he removed as he walked across the room.

“Hello, everyone.”

Antonia motioned to him and gestured toward the chair next to her. He smiled and took a seat, resting his hat on his knee. It was unlike Antonia to be so informal with someone she would consider staff. She must really like Todd, and it was easy to see he was comfortable with her.

Marvin watched them over the top of the racing form. Only his eyes were visible, but his brow was furrowed and his hands clenched the paper.

Now that there were men in the room, Chantal lost the bored look and artfully arranged a pillow into the small of her back. She arched and stretched to the best of her ability. It was quite a performance, and Antonia hadn't missed it.

“How is your fiancée and the plans for the wedding?” Antonia asked Todd, with a side-glance at Chantal.

“Joanne is really good at this stuff. I'm just picking wine
for the reception. We're almost done with everything, now that I've asked Penny to be the photographer and she's said yes.” Todd smiled at me.

“That's marvelous,” Antonia said. “You don't have any other responsibilities?”

“That's it. Joanne won't let me pick out music or select any decorations. She swears I'm tone-deaf and knows I'm color-blind, so she took charge of everything else.”

Chantal uncurled from the couch and stood. “Francesca's right. Let's get started. I don't want to be stuck here all night.” She brushed Stephen's hand away and weaved toward the bar.

Francesca looked at her sister. “Why are you even here? You've never taken any interest in the goings-on around here before. As long as your bills are paid, you couldn't care less what happens.”

Antonia raised her hand. “That will do. As a family member, I want Chantal to attend portions of the festival.” She looked at her youngest. “Besides, maybe Chantal will have something to contribute. Perhaps in marketing?”

Chantal shrugged as she reached for the martini still on the bar. With a toss of her hair she tipped the drink to her lips.

Francesca snorted. “Well, Mother, there's your answer.”

A silence descended on the room, broken only by the sound of Brice, still on his phone in the hallway.

“I don't care for cell phones,” Antonia gestured toward the sound. “I think they're rude.”

“He's a doctor, Mother,” Francesca said. “Brice takes his job very seriously.”

“Yes, your very important husband, the doctor.” Chantal
polished off the martini. “A hundred bucks says it isn't a patient on the other end of that phone.”

“Jealous bitch,” Francesca said calmly. “Go drink yourself into unconsciousness.”

“At least I have an excuse when I'm unconscious. You manage it sober and wide-awake.”

“Enough!” Antonia slammed down her cane. “I will not stand for this.”

“I agree. This was supposed to be a pleasant family evening,” Veronica said.

Francesca laughed. “Get real. How many pleasant evenings have you seen since you married into this family anyway?”

“Please, Francesca.” Veronica looked around the room. “We have guests. Antonia, can we go over the agenda for the festival?”

Antonia watched her daughters. “Todd, you start with the overview, and I will step in.”

“Sure.” Todd's calm demeanor took some of the tension out of the room, and he walked through the following week's activities.

The Autumn Festival was the biggest annual fund-raiser for The Kasey Foundation, the town's foster care center. The participants donated a portion of their profits on wine sales, and visitors paid admission. In addition to the wine booths, the festival had a petting zoo, a farmers' market and gourmet food booths.

The festival theme varied from year to year. This year the theme was medieval, and the booths and participants were expected to be adorned in an appropriate fashion. Throughout the weekend, displays of blacksmithing and soap-making
and staged presentations of swordplay would occur in the midway.

Brice came in a few minutes later. He glanced around the room and perched next to his wife on a bar stool. Francesca ignored him, as did Chantal, who'd returned to the couch with her drink.

After Todd covered the basics of the festival and moved on to staging, I wandered over to where Thomas sat.

“Not exactly role models for a perfectly functioning family, are they?” Thomas said under his breath.

“Do they always squabble like this?”

“Are you kidding?” Thomas sipped his sparkling wine. “They're on their best behavior for company.”

“The only one who hasn't had anything to say yet is Stephen. Actually that's not true. You got him to talk.”

Thomas shrugged. “I asked about Chantal, how she is. She sure doesn't look good today.”

We watched as she finished her drink and set her empty glass on the end table.

“He's got to be worried about her drinking.”

“That's part of it. The drinking. The inconsistent behavior. There's been talk of prescription drugs. And the men. Always the men. She throws herself at any guy that goes near her. Anyone but me and Ross, that is.” Thomas leaned closer. “A while back Stephen thought she was interested in Todd. I mean, beyond flirting. It bothered him. He wanted to fire Todd. Antonia wouldn't hear of it. She said Todd did a great job and increased visits to the winery.”

“That sounds like the Antonia I know. The good of the winery before anything else. How did you get all of this out of Stephen?”

“I excel at three things: decorating, dressing and dishing the dirt. I can get anyone to talk.”

At half past nine, the rest of the festival details were finalized. Antonia dismissed everyone with a wave of her cane and the family scattered. Todd and Hayley went out the front, Marvin left through the sliding doors and Connor remained with Antonia to discuss a new grafting technique.

“You guys wait here,” I said to Ross and Thomas. “I didn't know what prints you needed, so I grabbed a bit of everything. I'll be right back.”

I walked down the front steps into the night, where Todd and Hayley stood near Connor's truck.

“I've got postcards for Ross and Thomas. Then I want to bring a stack of prints to the booth.”

“I'll take them down for you,” Hayley said.

“Did you confirm that Marvin gave us the right booth?”

She nodded. “Finally. At first he tried to tell me the map was preliminary, but it said ‘Final Copy' right on the bottom. I told him not to try anything and he dropped it. I'm really not his favorite person.”

“I'd be worried if you were.”

I handed her a box then reached into the glove box, where I knew Connor kept a flashlight. “Take this. The main lights are up in the festival area, but the path down is dark.”

Todd and Hayley started down the path that led to the fermentation building and, farther, down the hill to the festival grounds.

I grabbed the box of postcards and returned to the library. Connor and Antonia had poured out the Cabernet. Ross handed me a glass and I took a sip.

“Antonia, this is superb.”

She nodded. “One of our best years.” She pointed to the box. “What are those?”

“Postcards and small prints for the gift store. Ross and Thomas sell my work there.”

“Let me see.”

I spread out the photos by the various seasons and Antonia peered over them. “My winery seems to be one of your favorite subjects.”

“It is. It's beautiful.” I caught her eye. “I mean it. The only winery I think is prettier is my own.”

After I'd given several to Antonia, I boxed up the rest and grabbed Ross by the arm.

“Come on, you two. I'll walk you out.”

*   *   *

A
short time later I stood in the night air and watched as they drove away.