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Authors: Donna Ball

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BOOK: Vintage Ladybug Farm
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~*~

 

Evening shadows were deep upon the porch when the three women finally settled into their chairs, muscles aching, thoughts peaceful. The sound of Farley’s tractor working in the vineyard had gone on long past suppertime, but now was quiet. They sat and watched the pink paint the sky, sipping cabernet, and Bridget said softly, “Is this the most beautiful sunset ever?”

A bright blue indigo stopped by the bird feeder, looked at them alertly, then helped himself to dinner and whisked away. Cici said, “Lori picked her bridesmaids.”

Lindsay looked at her in surprise. “Cool. Who are they?”

“She didn’t say.”

“Paul called from the B&B,” Bridget said. “They’re all settled in.”

“I thought they were driving down tomorrow.”

“Change of plans.”

“Hmm,” said Lindsay, rocking and sipping thoughtfully.

In the distance, they heard the sound of Dominic’s truck engine starting and saw the flash of his headlights behind the winery. Rebel gave an obligatory bark or two, then lost interest.

“I do believe that dog is getting tame,” observed Cici. “I’m not sure I can get used to that.”

“You can get used to anything,” argued Bridget placidly, “if you live long enough.”

They all watched as the truck rounded the curved gravel drive and slowed in front of the porch. Dominic waved at them through his open window.

“Good evening, ladies,” he said. “Rest well! A big today tomorrow, eh?”

Bridget said, “We were just having a glass of wine to celebrate our big day. Won’t you join us, Dominic?”

He glanced at Lindsay, but almost before he did, she said, clearly, “Yes, won’t you join us?”

He turned off the engine. Cici poured wine into a fourth glass. He smiled as he opened the door.

“Thanks,” he said. “I believe I will.”

He came up the steps and took the chair that was waiting for him.

 

~*~

 

 

 

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

 

Blessings

 

 

 


I
t
serves you right, if you ask me,” Cici observed archly. She sipped her wine and gazed out over the festivities, pretending to be unimpressed by Derrick’s story of their night at the B&B. “You choose to move in with strangers when we have a perfectly good guest room going completely unused …”

Derrick cast his eyes to the heavens. “I knew you would be mad. I knew they would be mad,” he told Paul, who dropped an arm around Cici’s shoulders and kissed her on the cheek.

“Darling, you know we’d never take advantage of you like that,” he assured her earnestly. “Not when we’re counting on every ounce of your goodwill to help us put our house together when it finally is finished. Why, hanging the draperies alone will put us so far in your debt we’ll have to have you over for dinner every night for the rest of the year to pay it off.”

Cici looked at him skeptically, then relented with subdued reluctance. “Well, as long as there’s dinner involved …”

The mint-green lawn was awash in early afternoon sunshine and dotted with the pastel colors of all their guests. Some wore their Sunday best (“I’ve never been to a vine blessing before,” declared Maggie Woodall of Woodall Realty, clutching to her head a wide-brimmed flowered hat that wouldn’t have looked out of place at the Kentucky Derby. “Am I overdressed?”) and others were in shirt-sleeves and jeans. Lori floated about in a flowered chiffon maxi-dress with ribbons in her hair, looking like a fairytale princess—sans Prince Charming, as it turned out, who was tied up with “some app or something for work,” as Lori explained vaguely. Everyone exclaimed over The Tasting Table, where Bridget, who wanted to conduct a Grand Reveal, had finally been persuaded to set up the bar. Dominic and Lori took turns pouring the wine, while Noah collected and washed the empty glasses. He was by now resigned to the fact that, no matter what the occasion, he would sooner or later end up bussing tables. And Bridget was paying him fifty cents a glass.

“At any rate,” Derrick concluded, “it all worked out well. Our hostess returned in time to make apple pancakes for breakfast …”

“Exquisite,” added Paul, kissing his fingers to the air.

“And she couldn’t have been sweeter. She refused to charge us for the night—”

“Although, of course, there will be a little something extra under the pillow when we leave.”

“And insisted on making a casserole for us to heat up for dinner tonight before she left, even though dinner isn’t included in the price.”

“She left again?” Cici said.

“Her daughter had triplets,” Paul explained. “That was the emergency.”

“Ah,” said Cici. “How long will you be there? How is the progress on the house?”

Paul and Derrick exchanged a glance. “Actually, we wanted to talk to you about that,” Paul said. “Doesn’t ‘dried in’ mean under a roof?”

Cici’s eyes widened. “Do you mean you’re not even dried in yet?”

“Not entirely,” Derrick admitted. “We do have walls.”

“Of a sort,” corrected Paul. “More like a skeleton of walls.”

“And floors.”

“Here and there.”

“To be fair,” Derrick said, “we didn’t have a lot of time to look around this morning. It was awfully muddy, and we were wearing Italian loafers.”

“What did your contractor say?” Cici asked.

“There wasn’t actually anyone there this morning, but when we talked to him last month, he assured us everything goes much faster once they get the roof on.”

Paul tried to look hopeful. “You know about these things, Cici. Do you think it will be finished in time for Lori’s engagement party?”

Cici said carefully, “Well, that depends.”

The engaged person in question flitted by just then, greeted both men with a quick kiss, and turned to her mother. “Have you seen Aunt Bridget? I’m supposed to find out how much longer before the blessing and whether or not we should open more wine. Personally, I think we should save the good stuff for after the blessing, but Dominic says …”

Paul held up his glass, surprised. “This isn’t the good stuff?”

Derrick tasted his wine again, more carefully this time.

Cici drew a breath to answer her daughter and then turned back to Paul, frowning. “We haven’t had rain all week. Why would it be muddy?”

“Oh, there she is!”

Bridget was coming toward them, managing to look at once both charming and authoritative in a white pantsuit with a flirty red polka-dot scarf at the throat. She also looked, at the moment, a little concerned.

Lori said, “Aunt Bridget, how much longer until the ceremony? I don’t think we should open more wine until you put the food out, do you?”

Bridget said, “It’s past two. I told everyone the ceremony would be at two. I’ve already started warming the pizzas.” She looked around anxiously. “Is he here yet?”

For a moment, Paul, who was still focused on Cici’s question about the mud, looked blank. And then he said, casting a quick glance through the crowd. “Oh, Father Mike. Don’t worry. He must have run into a patch of traffic. He’s very reliable, and he has directions.”

“And GPS,” added Derrick.

“I’m sure he would’ve called if he was going to be more than a few minutes late,” Paul said.

Derrick glanced at him. “Is your phone on?”

“Of course.” But Paul took it out to check.

Bridget stared at him. “You gave him your cell phone number?”

“No cell service,” Lori reminded him sympathetically.

“Sometimes we have cell service,” Cici protested.

Lori made a face. “When the moon is full and Venus is retrograde in Scorpio. That’s why Mark couldn’t come today—he can’t get anything done without his phone.”

Paul said, trying not to look worried, “Maybe I’d better make a call on the land line.”

Bridget hurried away with him, and Lori said, “I’ll tell Dominic to hold up on opening more wine.”

Derrick took Cici’s arm and turned to walk toward the vineyard. “Tell me,” he invited, “more about this drying-in stage.”

 

~*~

 

When Lori entered The Tasting Room, there was no one there but Lindsay and Dominic, and they stood with their heads close together, his hand lightly cupping her hair. Lori couldn’t help noticing that Lindsay was dressed for the occasion in a strapless print sundress, with a nipped-in waist and a flowing skirt that flirted with her knees, and cute strappy sandals with two-inch heels. She even curled her hair, which she almost never did.

Lindsay stepped away immediately when she heard Lori, of course, and took a sip of her wine, her expression completely neutral. Dominic just smiled.

“The priest is running late,” Lori said, “but Aunt Bridget isn’t ready to bring out the food yet. So how drunk do people generally get at these things? I say we hold off on pouring more wine.”

Dominic looked at her ruefully. “I say the first rule of a good wine tasting is never to run out of wine. I’m going to bring up another case.”

“I’ll mind the bar,” Lori volunteered. “But I’m not pouring the good stuff.”


Chéri
e,” Dominic assured her, giving her cheek a quick pat as he passed, “it’s
all
good stuff.”

Lori returned a grin and moved behind the lace-covered table that served as a bar. “I really like Dominic,” she said, and slid Lindsay a sly look. “Or should I start calling him
Uncle
Dominic?”

Lindsay fought with amusement as she rolled her eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, you obnoxious child.”

Lori poured herself a glass of wine. “He’s awfully good-looking, too. I mean, if you go for that type.”

Lindsay replied, “Hmm.” But the softening of her eyes as she tried to hide a smile gave her away.

Lori came around the table, leaning against it casually, and sipped her wine. “This place is fantastic,” she said, gazing around. “Even better than I pictured. Look how those floors shined up. Noah said you guys worked till midnight on them.”

“That was Dominic’s idea. We used marble sealer. I was afraid it wouldn’t dry in time, but he turned on the big fans in the loft overnight. Perfect.”

“I love that cream color on the walls. Everything looks so bright and cheerful. And the mural! Unbelievable.”

“It’s not exactly like the one Dominic remembers,” Lindsay admitted, “but we all thought we should update it to make it Ladybug Farm, not Blackwell Farms.”

“So.” Lori smiled at Lindsay over the rim of her glass and bumped her shoulder with her own. “You and Dominic. Tell all.”

Lindsay’s expression was a study in complacency as she sipped her wine. “Tell what?”

“Oh, come on, Aunt Lindsay. It’s not as though you haven’t found a way to get his name into every sentence you’ve spoken all day. That’s the first sign.”

“I have not.” She looked at her with a frown. “The first sign of what?”

“You know. Are you and he …?” She grinned a little. “Doing the deed?”

Lindsay’s eyes flew open wide, whether with real or feigned shock, and color tinted her cheeks. “In the first place, that’s an incredibly rude question,” she replied in her school-teacher voice, “and in the second, it’s none of your business.”

“That means the answer is yes.” Lori fought bubbling delight.

“It does not!”

“Then it means you want to.”

Lindsay looked at her warily. “You,” she told her, “are much older than I remember.” She sipped her wine and tried a quick change of subject. “Your mother said you’ve picked your bridesmaids. Anyone we know?”

She shrugged. “Probably not. Just some girls from school, and Mark has two sisters. I think four bridesmaids are enough, don’t you?”

“I think it’s your wedding and you should choose. But four sounds like plenty.”

Lori glanced at her curiously. “Why did you never get married, Aunt Lindsay? I always wondered.”

“I was married,” Lindsay reminded her, “and didn’t like it enough to try it again.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think over the years you get used to being your own person and making your own decisions. I never met a man I cared for enough to put his needs before my own.”

Lori was thoughtful, gazing into her glass. “Don’t you think,” she offered in a moment, “that the right man wouldn’t ask you to?”

Lindsay looked at her, a question forming on her lips, but just then, Dominic returned with the case of wine. “Everyone seems to be heading toward the vineyard,” he said, “so the problem of the tardy priest must have been solved. Either that, or the crowd is growing impatient.” He slid the box under the table and straightened up, smiling at the two ladies. “Shall we join them for the ceremony?”

“Oh good!” exclaimed Lori. “This will be my first vine-blessing. You’ll have to explain everything to me.” And then, catching the expression on Lindsay’s face, she added quickly, “Maybe I’ll just meet you there.”

BOOK: Vintage Ladybug Farm
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