“Because you enjoy it?” he suggested.
“Probably.” She put her phone away. “So. How you doing?”
He sat down.
The thing was, he had no idea what to ask.
Prudence shoveled some popcorn into her mouth. “Let me guess. This is about Faith,” she suggested.
“Yes.”
“Go for it.”
“I kissed her once. A long time ago.”
“How thrilling.”
“I wondered if she ever talked to you about it.” This was...unexpected. He hoped like hell that no one could overhear them.
“Honor!” Pru bellowed. “Levi wants to talk about Faith!”
So that hope was dashed.
Honor Holland came over, a glass of wine in her hand. “Really?” she asked, almost kindly, making him a little wary.
“Yeah,” Pru said. “He says he kissed her one time and wants to know if she got all swoony and some such shit.”
Levi made a note never again to ask for help from evil sisters. “Thanks, ladies,” he said, standing.
“Oh, man up,” Prudence said.
“Sit down,” Honor said at the same time.
Levi sighed and obeyed. “Okay, so, I screwed up.”
“Of course you did. You’re a guy,” Prudence said. Her pocket buzzed, and she jumped. “God, that felt good,” she said, almost to herself, taking her phone out to read the text. Laughed and began typing her response.
“I thought you dumped my sister,” Honor said.
“I did.”
“And what makes you think you deserve her?”
“I don’t.”
“That, Chief Cooper, is the correct answer.” Honor smiled. She didn’t say anything else. Pru was busy sexting Carl. Honor still said nothing, just looked at her nails.
Right. He waved to Colleen, who flipped him off. “Another round for these two on my tab,” he said, standing up.
“Order me something expensive,” Pru instructed her sister, not looking up from her phone.
He was halfway across the green when Honor called his name. She didn’t have her coat on, and he shrugged out of his and handed it to her.
“Thanks,” Honor said, putting it on. “Great jacket. I’m keeping it, by the way. She called me when I was a senior at Cornell. So Faith would’ve been a senior in high school. Would the timing be right for your little dilemma?”
Levi nodded.
“Well, I remember it, because it was the one and only time she ever said anything weird about Jeremy, and also, I had finals and the last thing I wanted to talk about was her love life.” Honor crossed her arms. “But it was strange, because from day one, Jeremy was Prince Charming and Dr. Wonderful all rolled into one. And she was asking me for advice, and that didn’t happen too much. We weren’t...” Honor cleared her throat. “We weren’t that close back then.”
“Do you remember what she said?” he asked.
“Yes, but I’m inclined to make you wait, just to watch you suffer.”
“Give me back my coat.”
“Fine. She asked me how to know if you were in love. She said she and Jeremy had taken a break, and something had happened and...I don’t know. What did being in love feel like.”
“What did you say?”
“I told her I had finals and she should read Seventeen magazine. I was kind of a bitch.” She looked at the ground. “Sorry. I wish I had more.”
“It’s enough.”
“Good. Then get your ass in gear. And thanks for the coat.”
Levi went up to his apartment and booted up his computer. Called Sarah once again.
“What? I’m trying to study for my exams, Levi! Can you please leave me alone?”
“Hi,” he said, clicking on a travel site. “I know I said you could come home, but I’m going to San Francisco for a few days.”
“Fine, whatever. Love you, gotta go.” She paused. “I have a friend here to study.”
“I thought you didn’t have friends.”
“Bite me. Call me when you land, and make sure you bring me a present.”CHAPTER THIRTY
THE PHONE RANG AT TWO o’clock in the morning, and it took Faith a minute to remember where she was. Her apartment in San Francisco? Nope. Opera House? Nope. Goggy’s? No.
The phone shrilled again. “No!” came a sleepy wail from down the hall. Right. She was at Pru’s, having gotten in from California a few hours ago. At the moment, she was so tired she felt dizzy, but if your last name was Holland, a phone call in the middle of a November night could only mean one thing—someone was dead, or it was time for the ice wine harvest.
Pru was already up. “Hey! Ice wine!” She banged on Abby’s door, then Faith’s. “Ice wine! Come on, Ned’s already gone. You don’t want to miss it, do you?”
“I so want to miss it,” Abby muttered, stumbling into the hall, Blue leaping excitedly about, looking for somebody to love. “I hate my life.”
“Oh, come on, now,” Faith said. “It’s fun.”
“It’s hell. A frozen, barren wasteland.”
For weeks, Dad had watched the forecast like a hawk, sleeping in his truck some nights, waiting for his special alarm-thermometer to announce that magical second when the temperature hit seventeen. Then the phone calls went out, and every living Holland was expected to show up within minutes to cut down the frozen grapes, which would be pressed that night.
“Bet you wish you were in San Fran still, huh?” Abby asked as she, Pru and Faith drove up the hill to Blue Heron, bundled in their warmest gear.
“And miss this?” She smiled at her niece.
“I’d kill to miss this,” Abby muttered.
“Well, Faith, your timing was perfect,” Pru said.
Faith’s project had finished early, everything going ahead of schedule, which was practically unheard of. She’d done the job she was hired to do and did it well, took her buddies out for ridiculously beautiful and expensive martinis, went to Rafael and Fred’s wedding, hired movers to pack up her stuff from the apartment, formally turning her lease over to Wonderful Mike.
Then she’d taken a long walk in the cold, damp air, and said goodbye to the city that had welcomed her, where her heart had mended, and went back to the place she loved with every molecule in her body. And to the man she loved just as much. More, even.
Twice in her life, Faith had been in love. Once with a man so perfect she should’ve known there was something wrong. And now with a man who wasn’t perfect at all, who was stubborn, occasionally irritable, and mildly to moderately constipated when it came to emotions, and maybe had some abandonment issues going on, too, not to mention the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He was also the best man she knew.
There was nothing he wouldn’t do to help someone. Find a cat on a dark night, drive an hour to do his sister’s laundry, wash a dog covered in chicken poop, let his ex-wife say her piece.
Go out in the middle of the night to reconstruct a twenty-year-old accident.
Stop his best friend’s wedding when he knew it would only lead to misery...for Jeremy and for her.
But the thought of his expression when he broke up with her...that hurt like a splinter in her heart. Just so...decided. So damn resolute.
“Are you getting out of the truck or what?” Abby said.
Right. They were here.
“Ice wine!” Dad called, the veritable kid at Christmas. It was a genetic defect or something. Jack was talking to the grapes already. “Are you ready to get pressed, sweeties? Are you excited?” Ned rolled around with Blue on the thin film of snow that had fallen sometime when Faith was asleep. Even Abby accepted her grandfather’s hug and said, yes, she, too, was so excited. Honor already had half a basket full of grapes, and Goggy was manning the forklift, shining the headlights down the row so they could all see what they were doing, snapping at Pops to take a step back or she’d run him over and enjoy her widowhood. Carl was here, too, and returned Faith’s wave a little shyly, perhaps guessing (correctly) that Faith knew far too much about his sex life.
The faint smell of bacon was in the air; Mrs. J. would be making breakfast at the New House.
Faith got to work. The frozen clusters of grapes came off easily in her hand, firm, cold little bundles. The stars were brilliant overhead; no moon tonight, the brief snow squall finished. The night air was filled with the sounds of her family bickering, laughing, shouting insults and encouragement to each other. Lights shone over at the Lyons Den, too, as just about every vineyard around made ice wine.
Mom had always loved the ice harvest. She used to bring cocoa in Thermoses, and muffins hot from the oven. One year, there’d been enough snow to go sledding, and Faith could recall, in a bright flash of memory, the feeling of her mom’s arms around her, the sound of her laugh, the thrill of flying down the hill, knowing her mom would keep her safe.
She glanced up to find Dad looking at her with a smile, as if he was thinking the same thought.
After a good hour, they heard another motor. “Ahoy, Hollands!” came Jeremy’s voice. It was another tradition started when the Lyons had first moved to New York; the two families took turns bringing coffee to the other. Attached to Jeremy’s tractor was a small trailer, and leave it to the g*y guy, he had a bright red plaid blanket, a huge Thermos, thick ceramic mugs, matching sugar and creamer set, two trays of sugar cookies and a flask of good brandy to lace the coffee.
“Thank God,” Abby said. “I’m freezing.”
“If your eighty-four-year-old great-grandmother isn’t complaining, should you be?” Pru said. “Jeremy, pour me a coffee, easy on the coffee, okay?”
“Will do, will do,” he said. “And how’s pretty Faith?” He gave her a warm hug, which she returned. He’d called her almost daily while she was in San Francisco, sent her funny emails, and she knew he was doing his best to make her feel better about Levi.
“What a great night!” he exclaimed, releasing her to serve as coffee host. “Beautiful skies, don’t you think?”
“A great night,” Honor quipped. “Easy for you to say, lord of the manor. You have people to do the work for you.”
“Good point,” he agreed, handing her dad a cup of coffee. “I should’ve done what you did, John, and just had a litter of children. Would’ve been cheaper that way.”
“Better get adopting,” Abby said. “I know I’m available.”
Jeremy put his arm around Faith’s shoulders, his dark eyes smiling. “You know, it’s my biggest regret about our breakup. We would’ve made beautiful babies.”
“That’s a lovely sentiment, Jeremy dear,” Goggy said, pouring a liberal amount of brandy into a mug and handing it to Pops.
“She’s not making babies with anyone but me.”
Faith jumped.
Levi stood just outside their little circle, jeans and a couple of layers of flannel, seemingly oblivious to the cold. His hair was rumpled, and he looked tired.
Faith felt that slow, golden heat starting in her heart. Her knees wobbled; her heart did, too. He looked so...good. Kind of grumpy, but good, too.
“You look tired,” Jeremy said. “Getting enough B12?”
“Shut up, Jeremy,” he said irritably. “I am tired. I’ve just spent nineteen hours flying back and forth across the country.” He shot Honor a glare. “Couldn’t have made a phone call, Honor? It would’ve been nice to hear she was on her way home.”
“Oops,” Honor said, unsuccessfully trying to hide her smile with a coffee mug.
“Faith, listen,” Levi said. He stood in front of her, glanced at her family, then back at her. “Look.”