Текст книги "The Other Boy"

Автор книги: Hailey Abbott

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Chapter Four

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Here we are!” Her dad’s voice was offensively cheerful. Mom was rummaging around in her handbag, muttering something about the keys. Maddy leaned forward eagerly as the car turned onto a long, rocky hillside. Twisted pine trees were around them. She rolled down the window and inhaled a deep breath of the fresh mountain air. It did smell good out here.

The car slowed down and turned through an opening in a crooked wooden fence that looked about a hundred years old. An enthusiastic profusion of morning glories and wisteria vines draped over the top rails. Maddy squinted at a little wooden sign hanging crookedly next to the driveway: ironstone winery. 21

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“Our front entrance,” her dad announced grandly. Maddy’s vision of the lush vineyard with romantic stone buildings and polished tile floors began to crack. Everyone hung on to their door handles as her dad swerved to avoid the gaping holes along the bumpy driveway. Maddy tried to focus on the looming pine trees surrounding them.

“Whoa!” Bob slammed on the brakes.

“Oh my God,” Maddy said, squinting through the windshield from the backseat. “Is that a pig?”

Mom sighed. “Mr. Jenkins next door keeps them, and sometimes they get out. I believe that one is named Jasper.” The enormous white pig meandered around the middle of the driveway. Bob blew the horn, which the pig haughtily ignored.

Mom opened her car door. “Let’s see if he’ll just walk off with a little urging. We can call Mr. Jenkins when we get to the house.” Gingerly, she stepped toward the pig and put her hand in her pocket. She drew something out and flung it into the bushes by the side of the road. Jasper lifted his huge head, snorted, and lumbered off toward the object.

“What was that?” Maddy asked as Mom got back in the car.

“Oh, nothing.” Her voice was airy. “I had some cheese crackers in my pocket.”

“Wow. Now can we please drive up to the house?”

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Maddy shook her head, trying to reconcile the sophisticated Mom she knew, who never left the house without her Chanel lipstick, with a woman who kept pig bait in her pocket.

Leaving Jasper happily eating his processed cheese, the SUV passed through the little grove and rounded one more turn. Maddy’s father pulled up to a clearing in the grass. “Welcome to Ironstone Vineyard,” he announced.

“First tasting will be held in the wine room in”—he looked at his watch—“approximately two months.”

Maddy stared at the structure in front of her. It was more a cottage than an actual house, and it looked like it belonged in an English fairy tale, not Northern California. Ivy covered the white clapboard sides, climbing to the slate roof. Curtains fluttered from the open windows upstairs, and a porch with elaborate wooden railings, scrolls, and gingerbread carving spread across the length of the house. The place was sitting in the middle of a giant, overgrown flower garden, where rosebushes competed with hollyhocks for the most sunshine. Who lives here? Maddy wondered. Elves?

Her parents practically leaped from the car as Maddy extracted herself from the backseat. The only sounds were of her parents rummaging around at the back of the car, the wind moving through the tops of the trees like the ocean hitting the shore, and a mockingbird singing madly on a branch over her head. The air was dry and 23

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cool in the shade, but when she stepped into the sunshine, she could feel its heat on her bare arms. She fished in her bag for her oversize Dior sunglasses. A mosquito whined in her ear. She swatted at it and slapped another one on her leg. Perfect.

“What do you think?” Mom picked up a big canvas bag and glanced at her daughter. Her father was busily pulling boxes and bags out of the trunk and piling them on the ground.

Maddy chose her words carefully. “It’s . . . nice. Little.”

Mom gave her an absentminded smile, but before Maddy could respond, she heard a crunching sound behind her. She turned to see a gray-haired man about her parents’ age appear around the side of the house.

“Fred!” Her father waved the man over. “Maddy, this is Fred Tighe, our business partner.”

“I’m glad to finally meet you, Maddy.” Fred smiled at her through his beard, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. His voice was quiet and gentle as he wiped his hand on his canvas work pants and held it out. Maddy shook the outstretched paw.

“Nice to meet you, too,” she said.

Fred turned to her father. “Bob, I want to take a look at the southwest irrigation ditch, if you have a moment. I know you all just arrived, but darned if that hose hasn’t backed up and filled it in again.”

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“Damn. Not that thing again. You know, I think if we try that black tubing . . .” The two men disappeared around the side of the house, Bob gesturing and talking animatedly, Fred nodding.

Mom was loading herself up with bags and a big box of groceries. “The front door key is buried in my bag somewhere, but the kitchen door’s open.”

“Why can’t we just pull the car around back?” Maddy asked. “That would be a lot easier than hauling all this stuff around.”

“Grab that suitcase, will you? We can’t pull the car around. The trees are too close—it won’t fit.”

“Mom, I have to pee so bad!”

“Well, go inside—take the suitcase with you. The bathroom’s upstairs. There’s only one.”

“What?” Maddy couldn’t hide her unintentional indignation.

Mom straightened up and pressed her lips together. She looked like she was about to say something but decided against it.

“Whatever!” Maddy said hastily. “What I meant was, great! I adore sharing a bathroom with my parents and assorted wildlife. Maybe Jasper the pig would like to move in also.”

“Perhaps he would. Why don’t you go back down the driveway and ask him?” Mom said calmly.

They heaved the bags and boxes around to the back, 25

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which was covered by another shady porch. A swing and an array of wooden rocking chairs dotted the yard. Trellises stood against the sides of the house, covered in climbing roses. A large lawn spread out in a semicircle, surrounded on all sides by twisty grapevines. Clusters of lush purple grapes hung down. They looked delicious. Ignoring her bladder, Maddy wandered over to the grapes and picked a few of the ripest. They were firm and smooth and covered with a hint of silvery frost. Her mouth was already watering. She popped them into her mouth and bit down. Hot, sweet juice spurted onto her tongue. Mmm. Wow. They were more intensely grape-y than anything she’d ever tasted. She glanced back at the house and carefully spat the thick skins and seeds onto the ground.

Maddy lugged her suitcase up the back steps and pushed open the screen door. She stepped into a little back hallway. She heard Mom already banging cabinet doors in a yellow-painted kitchen to her right. A steep wooden staircase extended up in front of her. She climbed the steps, listening to them creak under her feet. The upstairs hallway was narrow, with a few rooms visible through their half-open doors. Maddy briefly took in the cream-painted walls, wide-planked hardwood floors, and sunlight pouring in through open windows. She spotted the bathroom at the end of the hall and darted in. It was tiny, with just enough room for a 26

The Other Boy

pedestal sink, a toilet, and a huge old tub that looked like it was made of copper. The floor was covered with old-fashioned black and white hexagonal tiles. A distressed old armoire painted shabby-chic white stood in a corner. Maddy thought longingly of the heated towel racks, three showerheads, and vast marble countertop of her private bathroom at home.

She turned on the water at the freestanding sink and stuck her hands underneath. “Yowch!” she yelped, and yanked her hands back, shaking off droplets of scalding water. Maddy glared at the sink. Two faucets. Of course this house would have a sink from like 1776 with separate faucets for hot and cold. She scowled and dried her hands on her sweatpants.

There were three other doors in the hallway besides the one leading to the bathroom. The first room had an antique rolltop desk pushed against a wall, an old sofa, and a bookcase overflowing with books and papers. A laptop sat on the desk. That must be the room they’re using as the vineyard office, Maddy thought. She peeked into what must have been her parents’ room next. A big bed with an old brass headboard stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by a sea of boxes. Every room had funny slanted walls and low wooden ceilings. Maddy felt like she was on a ship.

There was only one door left, at the end of the hallway. “Is this end room mine?” Maddy called down the 27

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stairs to her mom, who was still clattering around in the kitchen.

“Yes, it is!” she called back.

A cool breeze blew against Maddy’s face as she walked in the door. Across the room, big glass doors leading to a balcony were flung open. The walls were a soft sage green. One wall slanted down almost to the floor. A little corner alcove held a built-in cushioned bench covered with pretty pillows. The polished wooden floors were bare except for a few woven rugs. A fourposter bed was covered with a green and white fernpatterned bedspread. There was a big, old-fashioned wardrobe in one corner and a white vanity table, the kind with a mirror on top, and a cushioned stool. Maddie sat on the corner of the vanity table. What was she going to do here? Everything was so little and creaky and old. She felt caged in already. She stood and went over to the open doors. The green rows of grapevines stretched out for miles before her, with rolling grassy hills in the background, streaked here and there with bands of dark pine trees. Far away, on a hill, the tiny red dot of a tractor moved slowly across the landscape. Maddy couldn’t help thinking of the view from her room back in the city, with the bay spread out like a wrinkled blue sheet, the Golden Gate Bridge shrouded in fog, and the city crowded to the edge of the water.

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She reluctantly dragged the big blue suitcase into her new room from the hall. She felt exhausted, like she’d been traveling for a week. Just that morning, she had woken up in her own huge bed on silky Egyptian cotton sheets, snuggled up under her plush brown duvet in her room, with its remote-control lighting and sleek stereo system. But now she was sharing a room with eight million mosquitoes and Lord knew what other wildlife. And there was no escape.

Maddy gathered up an armful of dresses and skirts, most of them still on the hangers, and started stuffing them into the wardrobe in the corner. It took about thirty seconds for her to fill up the hanging section. She struggled to shove in a few more pieces, then stared first at the wardrobe and then at her suitcase in dismay. She hadn’t unpacked even a quarter of the things she’d brought. Panting a little, she managed to shut the wardrobe door by hurling her shoulder against it. She stood back. The sleeve of a cashmere sweater was stuck between the door panels.

Maddy flopped onto the fluffy bedspread like a wet rag. “Ooohhh!” she moaned to the ceiling. “I am officially living my worst nightmare.”

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Chapter Five

!

When Maddy’s cell rang at dusk, she snatched it like it might magically transport her back to civilization and save her from morosely staring out at the gathering blue and purple shadows on the lawn.

“How’s the prison inmate?” Morgan crackled from the other end.

“Oh my God! I am so glad you called!” Maddy cried, sitting up in her chair and lowering her feet from the porch railing.

“Hey, don’t hold back or anything.” Morgan laughed. “So, is it awful or what?”

Maddy stood and began pacing between the room and the porch, holding the phone in a death grip.

“There was a pig in the driveway when we drove up!”

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She yanked the phone away from her ear to dull the shrieks of her friend’s raucous laughter. “Hey, you could be feeling sorry for me, you know,” she said. Morgan chokingly pulled herself together. “I know,”

she said weakly. “It’s just that—come on. Madeline Sinclaire and a pig? Is he your new best buddy?”

“Very funny. And there’s only one bathroom, all the rooms are tiny, and my hideous parents have already sentenced me to manual labor.” Maddy flopped down on the bed and hung her head over the side. She stared at the rich brown floorboards and traced a little pattern with her index finger.

“Unbelievable. What’s the deal with this place? I mean, why are they so obsessed with it?”

Maddy heaved a gusty sigh. “It’s their dream,” she said, rolling her eyes. “They’ve talked about buying a vineyard for practically as long as I can remember. The owners of this place went bankrupt because of some sort of insider trading scandal last winter. So they sold it really cheap and now my parents are convinced making wine is their destiny or something. And apparently I have to be part of it.”

“Well, don’t worry. They can’t keep you up there for the whole summer, can they?”

Maddy laughed. “Why not? They can do anything they want.” She knew Morgan was just trying to make her feel better, but she couldn’t help her nasty mood. 31

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“The party was hella fun, though,” Morgan reminded her. “Everyone’s saying it was the best one of the summer so far.”

Maddy smiled. “Thanks, chica.”

“And—”

Maddy sat up. “Wait, what’s that noise?” A steady cheep, cheep, cheep was coming from one corner of the porch. She got up from the bed.

“What? Maddy, is it a bear?” Morgan cried. She sounded genuinely scared. Maddy went out onto the porch and peered into the dark corner. The cheeping stopped as if on a timer.

“No, Miss Hysteria, it’s a cricket, not a bear. I’m not in the Yukon Territory.” She backed away a step. Cheep, cheep, cheep. She moved forward. It stopped. Back. Cheep. Forward. Stop. “It’s majorly annoying, though,” she said as she retreated into her bedroom. The cheeping resumed, right on cue.

“Poor Mad—hey, I’ve got to go,” Morgan said.

“Kirsten’s on the other line. We’re all going to dinner in a few minutes.”

“Who’s going?” Maddy asked mournfully.

“Why are you torturing yourself ? The usual: Brian, Chad, Taylor, Sunny, me, and Kirsten. Don’t worry, we’ll get an extra chair for you.”

Maddy pushed her face into her pillow. “Thanks,”

she mumbled. “Bye.”

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“Bye. I’ll call you.”

Maddy tossed her phone onto the bedside table and lay staring at the darkness. Cheep, cheep, cheep. She sat up and turned the light on. The cheeping stopped. She turned the light off and lay back down. CHEEP, CHEEP, CHEEP. Maddy sat up again. “Shut up!” she yelled in the direction of the porch. The noise stopped for a moment, as if the cricket were considering its options, and then began again, deciding Maddy wasn’t worth listening to. Of course, Maddy thought. Because what I want doesn’t matter anymore. 33

Chapter Six

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Maddy! Rise and shine, little bean!”

Maddy pulled the sheet over her head and rolled onto her stomach. “Mmmff,” she moaned. She could hear someone coming up the stairs.

“‘You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy . . .’” Mom’s voice grew louder as she entered the room.

Maddy lifted her head and clawed the sheet from her face. “Mom, why are you singing? What time is it?” She fell back into the comfortable embrace of her mattress and let her fingers graze the mosquito bites on her forehead. She had forgotten, of course, to close the doors to the porch last night.

“‘You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you, oh 34

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please don’t take my sunshine away!’ It’s six thirty, Sunshine.” Mom was wearing one of Dad’s buttondown shirts with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of baggy khaki shorts. She strode over to the porch and leaned on the railing. “Ah! Just smell that Napa air! Isn’t this porch darling? You could sleep out here if you wanted.”

“Shhh,” Maddy whispered, turning over on her side and fluffing her pillow. “Right now I’m sleeping in here. I’ll be down in a few hours. Can you shut the door when you leave?”

“Get up, get up! Dad and I have already had breakfast. We have a whole plan for you, so be downstairs in fifteen minutes, my lovely.” She left the door open behind her as she skipped out.

Maddy flopped onto her back and lay with her arm over her face. Six thirty? The woman was inhuman. And

“a whole plan” sounded suspiciously like it might include large amounts of lifting and sweat. Grumbling, Maddy heaved herself out of bed and wrestled a short white cotton dress out of the bulging wardrobe. She briefly considered a shower, but realized that no one would see her except for her parents and Fred. She pictured Brian pulling up the driveway in his gleaming SUV, grinning at her from behind his Oakleys.

“Hey, babe!” he’d call out. “I came up to rescue you!”

Maddy shook her head to dispel the image. The 35

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chance of Brian coming up to save her was about as high as the chance that her parents would actually let her spend another night alone in the next twenty years. She pulled her hair up in a messy knot on top of her head and slipped her feet into a pair of Havaianas. Then she grabbed her huge sun hat from its nail on the wall and looked in the mirror. Ugh. Eyes puffy, face pale, so many mosquito bites that her forehead looked like the surface of Mars and . . . lo and behold, the start of a lovely zit smack in the middle of her chin. She ripped the hat off, tossed it on the bed, and stuck her sunglasses on her head instead. The last time she’d felt this gross was—actually, she’d never felt this gross. In the sun-flooded kitchen, she sat down at the round wooden table and tried to stretch her eyes all the way open. Mom set an enormous spinach and cheese omelet down in front of her. Without even looking up, Maddy started devouring it, along with two pieces of sourdough toast.

“We’ve been having such fun eating local,” her mother chattered as she bustled around the kitchen, putting away the omelet ingredients. “Those eggs are from our neighbors down the road. I found the goat cheese at a little grocery in town that sells all Napa-grown food. And the spinach is from our garden!”

“Great,” Maddy mumbled with her mouth full. It was hard for her to muster up enthusiasm for the origins of 36

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eggs and spinach before seven o’clock in the morning. Debbie poured herself a glass of orange juice and sat down across the table.

“It’s so relaxing out here,” she went on. “The air gives me so much energy! Take a deep breath. Don’t you just love it?”

“Um, yeah.” Maddy was concentrating on heaping three teaspoons of sugar into her coffee. She needed the caffeine—immediately. Her head was pounding and her eyes refused to stay open without serious effort. Mom jumped up as a truck engine rumbled outside in the front. “That must be Dad and Fred. They went down to talk about the harvest schedule with John Sands—our neighbor on the other side,” she explained.

“We might trade work to help each other out. Come on out when you’re done, okay, honey?” Her voice trailed off as the screen door slammed behind her. Maddy gulped her coffee in three swallows and immediately felt more awake. She lowered her sunglasses and clattered down the back steps. Under the pure blue Napa sky, the air was cool but held the promise of heat. The sun was shooting its lemon-yellow rays around the mountains and over the lush, green vineyard. In one corner of the yard, flowering quince glowed orange in the morning light. As she walked around to the front of the house, Maddy barely even noticed what a shack the place was.

“Hi, honey!” Dad called as he and Fred climbed down 37

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from the cab of an ancient red pickup truck. “Come on over!” He handed his wife a bag of groceries, which she hoisted onto her hip and carted back around the house, giving Maddy a peck on her forehead as she passed.

“Morning, Fred! Morning, David!” Debbie called over her shoulder.

Maddy’s head shot up. David? She peered over her dad’s shoulder and finally noticed a guy with curly, sunbleached brown hair sitting in the truck bed, his arms looped easily around his knees.

“Morning, Mrs. Sinclaire!” The mystery boy rose and vaulted over the edge of the truck, landing lightly on the ground. He stood about six feet tall, and his old, slim gray T-shirt hung easily from his broad shoulders and showed off the muscles of his chest and arms. Even from where she was standing, Maddy could see that his forearms were strong and corded, and he had the kind of tan that only comes from working outdoors.

“Maddy, I want you to meet David,” her father said.

“This is Fred’s son. You two will be working together this summer.”

What?

Somewhere in the background, her dad was still talking. “Sorry, hon, I forgot to mention yesterday that David is staying up here at the vineyard for the summer too. Fred and I thought it would be great for you to work together.”

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David’s big, dark eyes were trained on her. For a moment, she stared right back. She felt her face get hot and her heart speed up. Wow, he was really cute. The moment stretched out until he blinked his long black eyelashes quickly, like he was trying to wake up from something, and stuck out his hand.

“Hey, nice to meet you.” His smile was wide and open and his teeth flashed white against the tan of his face.

Maddy’s mind raced. Why exactly had she decided to skip that shower this morning? Wait, stop. Who cared if he was gorgeous? You’re not available, Madeline! She summoned up an appropriately bored smile and shook David’s hand. His hand felt warm and firm against hers. She drew in her breath at his touch. What was going on?

Stop! She took her hand away and awkwardly brushed some hair back from her forehead. Maybe she’d had too much coffee. As Maddy considered switching to decaf, David casually stuck his hands in the pockets of his battered jeans and leaned against the side of the truck. He smiled at her again. “So, you all got in yesterday, right?”

“Um, yeah.” For some reason, she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

David waited for a second and tried again. “Cool. What do you think of the place so far?”

“Obviously, it’s great.” The sarcasm was unintentional; 39

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she was going for smooth. Damn. She felt like she was in school, standing at attention in front of him like she was about to recite the Pledge of Allegiance or something. She looked around for a place to sit, but there wasn’t one, so she just crossed her arms awkwardly. David seemed a little thrown. “Ah, yeah. The house is amazing. Have you seen the grapevines yet?”

She snorted a little, involuntarily. “Well, they’re hard to miss.” Arrrgg. Mean when she’d meant friendly. She was trying to be polite, but, honestly, this whole situation was just aggravating. The sun was too hot, her breakfast felt like a boulder in her stomach, and worst of all, she had no idea what “amazing project” her parents had cooked up for her and this guy. No matter how nice he was, he couldn’t teleport her back to the city, and that was really the only thing she wanted.

David opened his mouth but then shut it abruptly and fixed Maddy with a quizzical stare, as if he was realizing something. “Yeah, I guess it’s too bad if you’re antigrapevine. You’re trapped by about three hundred miles of ’em,” he said, rolling his eyes playfully and shooting her a rueful grin.

“Okay, kids!” Bob walked up, beaming. His bald head was sunburned, and he was already sweating in the strong mountain sun. He slapped his hands together.

“Now, I have a really special project for the two of you.”

Oh boy, Maddy thought. Here it comes. “What, Dad?”

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“Well, I think I should just show you—it’s going to be great when it’s all done. Come on, let’s take the truck.”

He climbed into the driver’s seat of the red pickup.

“Um, Dad,” Maddy asked, “where did you get this truck?” The windows were missing their glass, and the stuffing in the seats was bulging out everywhere. The inside of the cab was sprinkled liberally with dog hair and bits of straw.

“Got it at an auction when we came up here at Christmas. Remember, I told you about it?” Maddy did vaguely remember him going on about a great deal he had gotten up in Napa. “Climb in!”

David hoisted himself back into the truck bed. Maddy hesitated for a minute. She had never ridden in the back of a truck before. David was watching her from his perch on a straw bale.

“Want a hand?” he asked. He stood up and leaned over the edge, extending his arm toward her.

“No, thanks,” she said, trying to sound airy. She perched her sunglasses on top of her head and climbed awkwardly onto the tailgate, trying to avoid flashing her hot pink bikini underwear. Her feet were sliding around—sneakers probably would have been a better choice. She was almost in the truck, when one flip-flop caught on something and slid off into the dirt. Maddy looked down in dismay. “Crap!” she said. She was caught in a very unflattering position—straddling the 41

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tailgate, one leg in the truck bed, one outside, with her rear sticking out, and clutching the edge with both hands. She swung a leg back over so she could hop down, but before she could, there was a soft thud behind her. In one motion, David reached down, tossed her the flip-flop, and effortlessly swung back into the truck.

“Thanks,” she said, surprised.

“No problem.” He winked at her. Maddy started a little. Damn, he was sexy. She settled herself on a bale of straw, and the truck engine started with a roar. She jumped at the noise before she could stop herself. David glanced over at her. She lightly tossed her hair and looked away. He leaned forward and raised his voice over the engine noise.

“Your dad seems unaware that there’s this new invention called a muffler . . . ,” he said, gesturing to the front of the cab. Maddy laughed in spite of herself, the wind blowing against her face and her hair flapping out behind her like a long golden banner.

The truck bumped over the rocky soil down a dirt track that wound between the rows and rows of vines. The grapes hung thick in their clusters beneath their canopies of green leaves. Despite the neat, curving rows, the place had a slightly wild air. Crows perched here and there, eyeing the grapes. A red-tailed hawk circled overhead, momentarily hanging in the air before folding its wings and silently hurtling toward the earth. 42

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The truck stopped in front of a little stream. Maddy looked around at the rocky bank twisting along the field in a silvery streak until it disappeared out of sight between two hills. This must be the edge of the property. A broad meadow spread out on the other side of the stream, with tangled high grasses and scattered boulders competing for space with masses of blue and yellow wildflowers. The mountains lay brooding beyond, overlooking the landscape like sentinels. Dad killed the engine, and David rose quickly and hopped out of the truck. Maddy followed cautiously, eyeing the distance from the bed to the ground, trying to calculate whether she could make it without losing any more of her clothing. She looked up, realizing that David was watching her again.

“Don’t worry,” he teased. “I won’t look if you jump.”

Maddy scowled at him. The guy was reading her mind—

it was uncanny. Irritating and uncanny. He came back up to the edge of the truck. “Hey, I was just kidding.” He held his arms out. “Come on, I’ll help you.”

Maddy looked down into his sparkling, deep brown eyes from her perch in the truck, and awkwardly bent down, gathering the skirt of her dress between her knees. She grasped the edge of the tailgate with one hand and closed her fingers around David’s with the other. She leaped down clumsily, almost falling. Quickly, he grabbed her around the waist. For a split second, his 43

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arms encircled her, hugging her against his broad chest. Maddy felt the warmth of his skin through his T-shirt and caught a whiff of fresh, piney soap and a vague scent like cedar chips. A tiny sigh escaped her. Flustered, she struggled upright. He quickly dropped his arms.

“Okay?” he asked, blushing a little.

“Yeah, fine,” Maddy mumbled. She concentrated on brushing dust off her dress so she wouldn’t have to look at him. Her knees felt a little wobbly, but she didn’t know why. It wasn’t like it was a big deal that he helped her down. She’d just tripped a little. This whole place had her off balance.

“Come on, you two!” Bob waved from the stoop of a small red wooden building perched on the stream bank. Dry yellow grasses lay in luxuriant swathes against the stone foundation, and the front entrance was draped in a profusion of wisteria. Maddy’s dad pushed the oak door open, revealing an empty room beyond. Maddy and David stepped inside.

The space was square, with bare plaster walls and a plank floor. There was no ceiling, only the underside of the roof and rafters soaring twenty feet overhead. Swallows swooped in and out of an open window set high into the wall. Sunlight filtered through the wavy old glass of the windows and painted shadow patterns on the floor. A faint film of dust covered everything.

“The last owners used this for storage,” Bob explained. 44

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“But it was originally a barn for goats, back when this was a farm as well as a vineyard. You can see how solidly it’s built.”

“Yeah, it really is,” David said approvingly, knocking on the wall. Maddy gazed longingly out the window, wishing that she could see San Francisco from here. She whipped her head around and saw that both Dad and David were staring at her.

“Mmmhmm!” she managed, pretending to admire the cobwebby walls. “So, what’s the plan, Dad?” Might as well get it over with.

“Well! Glad you asked!” Her father grinned like a little boy. “You can see that the structure is in good shape. All it needs is a quick scrubdown and then . . . Fred and I want you two to transform it into our new wine-tasting room!” He paused for their reaction. David lifted his eyebrows slightly.

“Ah . . . great, Bob,” he offered.