But at this week’s staff meeting, Marcy had spoken up again. “I don’t know if you do this kind of thing, but it might be really motivational if we hosted a sales retreat this fall,” Marcy had said, going on to suggest contests and prizes for those who sold the most wine at the tasting bar, opened new accounts in stores and restaurants, came up with new promotions for the vineyard. “If it’s in the budget, we could have a weekend retreat at a nice resort, or down in the city, complimentary massages or tickets to a show.”
It was a great idea, and one that Jessica actually considered, as well. Almost to the letter. She’d outlined the idea about six months ago, but held off; a lot of companies did this kind of thing, but it was expensive, too, and the vineyard had taken a bit of a hit with all the snow last winter.
But Honor had considered it, asked a few questions and made a note on her iPad, all while Jessica mentally chastised herself for not going ahead with it. The worst they could say was no; she shouldn’t have been so hesitant.
Well. That was water under the bridge, and Jess had a big lunch meeting today. Her, Davey...and Connor.
She got to Keuka Candle Factory where Davey and about ten other people worked, packing cardboard boxes with the different variety of candles.
“Hi, Jess!” called Petra, the manager.
“Hi, Jess!” Davey echoed. He ran over and hugged her.
“Oh, you smell good,” she said, kissing his cheek. “What flavor is that?”
“Woolly Sweater,” he said proudly.
“Yummy. You ready for lunch?”
They drove to the nearest Chicken King franchise, since A) the food was amazing, if loaded with cholesterol, and B) Connor’s mother was marrying the owner, and it made Jeanette happy to hear Jess was going there, and also, C) Davey did better controlling his outbursts if he was in public.
Because an outburst would surely be coming.
Today was the day she was telling Davey about Connor. And yes, she was afraid. That time when Chico Three was a puppy, Davey had put the fear of God into her. It had been his worst outburst ever. Last fall, he’d had another one when he’d seen Connor at the grocery store one night and Connor helped Jess by reaching for something on the top shelf. That rage storm hadn’t been as bad, but still pretty dreadful; she’d had to drag him out of the store, then go back the next day to pay for all the bananas and apples Davey had thrown, only to find that Connor had already taken care of it.
And now Davey had to be brought into the picture, because...well, because there was no way around it.
Shit. Just the thought made her knees wobble. He’d been so betrayed the last time, unable to believe that his sister had been sitting with the enemy in his own house. Thank God he hadn’t seen them making out. It had taken him weeks to forgive her.
The rain was really coming down when they pulled into the Chicken King. She and Davey ran inside. As planned, they were here first, and Connor would come when she texted him that she’d broached the subject.
There was only one other person at the counter, since it was early yet.
“Dad!” Davey said, bounding over. Well, that was a coincidence. Hard to avoid in a town of fewer than a thousand people, but still.
“Hey! My two favorite kids!” he said, hugging Davey. “Hi, Jessie.”
“Here’s your Born on the Bayou Louisiana Rub,” said the girl behind the counter, handing over a bag that was already staining with grease.
“Are you here to eat with us?” Davey asked. “You should eat with us! Please, Dad! Please!”
Keith looked at her. Eyes still clear, no alcohol odor, no tremor in the hand. Davey had grabbed Keith’s free hand and was swinging it, chanting “Stay, stay, stay.”
“Okay,” Jessica said, surprising herself. “Um, Davey, look at the menu and decide what you want.” She stepped away a few paces, her father following her.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Actually, yes. I have to tell Davey something that will upset him, and maybe it’s good that you’re here.”
Her father’s eyes lit up at the chance of being helpful. “Okay. Sure. What is it?”
She twisted the silver ring on her thumb. “I have a boyfriend.”
His face softened. “Oh, Jessie, that’s great.”
“Davey’s not going to think so.”“Why?”
“It’s Connor O’Rourke.”
Her father shook his head. “From the restaurant... Oh. Right! Chico bit him, didn’t he?”
Mauled was a better word. Nearly killed. “Yes. And Davey thinks Connor killed Chico, more or less.”
“Really?”
Jess bit down on a surge of impatience. “Yes. Things are very black-and-white for him. He was five when it happened, and it’s practically carved in stone in his memory. All he remembers is that Mr. O’Rourke and Connor came over, and then Chico was taken away and died.”
“Shit. I barely remember that myself.”
“No, you were drunk at the time.”
He flinched a little. “You’re right. Well, maybe I can help now.”
“The thing is, when he gets upset, he gets violent. And he’s not a little boy anymore.”
“Can I have Triple Batter Crunch, Jess?” Davey called. “And extra onion rings?”
“Get whatever you want, hon.”
Keith’s face was solemn. “Thanks for this, Jessie. For letting me help.”
She sighed. “I hope it works.” She got a plain chicken sandwich. She actually loved Chicken King food, but her stomach was jumpy. She then sat down at a table across from Davey and her father. Keith asked Davey questions, keeping things light, and Davey tore into his meal like a starved Viking.
“So Davey,” Jess began. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“I love chicken,” he said. “They make it thirty-eight delicious different ways.” He could quote all the commercials. “Joo-Joo Haitian Spice, Sweet Home Alabama Fire, Better than Grandma’s Bacon Lard with Biscuits—”
“So, the thing is, sweetie, I...uh... There’s a guy I like. And I want him to be my boyfriend.”
He took another bite. “That’s nice.”
Keith raised his eyebrows at her. So far, so good, he seemed to be saying. He obviously had no idea what was about to happen.
“He’s really nice,” Jess said. “He likes animals, especially dogs. His sister has a big, funny dog, and he likes kids, too. He has a little sister and he plays baseball with her.”
“Can I have your corn?”
She passed him the ear, dripping with butter. The Chicken King’s mission seemed to be to shorten lives. “So he’d like to meet you. Actually, he already knows you a little bit.”
“Who knows me?”
“The guy I’m dating.”
“Oh. Okay.”
And now for the hard part. “The thing is, you might think at first that he’s not nice, but he really is.”
“Who is it?”
She took a deep breath. “It’s Connor. Connor O’Rourke.”
Davey blinked. A second later, he stopped chewing. “But he killed Chico One.”
“No, he didn’t, actually,” Keith said, looking at Jessica for permission. She gave a little nod. “Chico was a bad dog that day. He bit Connor. Hard.”