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In the Vineyard Ch. 01

By: SLC-Ohio



Ana Palmer slammed on the brakes. She felt them fighting back - the anti-lock feature - and prayed the car wouldn't lurch forward. Mere inches from her bumper, a golf cart cruised across the parking lot. The driver yelled back to someone - she thought he said "tell my son to wake his lazy ass up!" - and drove on as if the near miss hadn't happened. It was 8:23 a.m. on a bright Thursday, and Ana was driving up the approach to the Creek Valley Winery. The winery wouldn't be open for hours, but Ana had not come here to taste or buy wine. Nor had she come planning to have near misses with golf carts.

She was shaking, and took several deep breaths, trying to relax. She reddened, certain her almost accident didn't go unnoticed. Her sporty yellow German made car drew attention under normal circumstances. She considered quietly driving away, but decided she would look even more suspicious if she fled. Besides, Uncle Chester was supposed to be here; if she left, she would be letting him down. 

She took one more breath, put the car in gear, and drove slowly forward. She carefully parked at the far end of a row of other vehicles, mostly trucks, watching all directions for any sign of cross traffic. She looked around, and at the other end of the parking lot she saw a large high peaked wooden building. On the deck extending around the side of the building, a group of about half a dozen men stared her way. She instinctively glanced up at the rearview mirror to finalize her appearance. Her usual touch up - quick brush of her hair and final touches of powder and lipstick - was replaced by a careful check of the efficiency of the ponytail wrap. Ana's wavy reddish-blond hair tended to have a mind of its own, especially now that she preferred to wear it longer. She spotted a small blemish in the rear view mirror. Ana, when will you outgrow those, she thought. It's about time, at 32. She reassured herself, it doesn't matter - they don't care what I look like, as long as I can do the work! Satisfied, she opened the car door. Looking over toward the crowd, she tried to find a familiar face. They were no longer silently staring but were engaged in an animated conversation.

The group of men - clothed in flannel shirts or coats, blue jeans and work boots, were all older than Ana - most in their 60s. She looked down at her feet and was sorry now that she didn't buy work boots. But, shiny new work boots might be worse than the aged, paint-stained athletic shoes she was wearing. At least they were comfortable, and she didn't care if they got muddy.

Ana walked across the gravel parking lot with her hands in the pockets of her windbreaker. She had decided, after listening to the forecast, to wear jeans and a tee shirt, adding the windbreaker for the morning chill. She regretted not bringing a warmer coat - the winery was some miles from the city and the air was colder as well as cleaner. Gloves might have been nice, too, she thought. Her hands turned cold as soon as she left the warmth of the car. She drew nearer to the group, and was relieved to pick out the familiar shape of Uncle Chester. 

Chester VanMeter wasn't really her uncle though he had been around her family for as long as she could remember. Although he was once married - his wife died 20 years ago of cancer - Ana thought of him as a perpetual bachelor. Chester was large, but not fat. He had a round, open face. His hair was silvery grey and thinning, although he was far from bald. Ana didn't actually know how old Chester was, she guessed that he was somewhere in his late sixties. He and her father had been business associates for years prior to their retirement and remained friends afterward. He often spent time with her parents at their house on the lake. Last weekend, he had suggested that Ana meet him at Creek Valley on Thursday to pick grapes. 

Uncle Chester made wines, and almost always brought bottles for the Palmers to try. When Ana was younger, Chester's wines were light and sweet, almost like soda. Within the last few years, Chester's wines had changed in style - they now reminded her of 'real' wines she ordered in restaurants or bought in wine shops. Chester brought an exceptional bottle of red wine last weekend, and when Ana asked him for details, he told her, to her surprise that the grapes were local - from the Creek Valley Winery, located about an hour south from Ana's home on the outskirts of the capital. Ana knew the area - it was just a couple of miles from South Central State, a small public university. Ana had visited the campus - it was located in a rural, though quaint community known as Creekboro - but she had never been to the winery. Uncle Chester explained that Creek Valley contacted the Amateur Winemakers' Club he belonged to and made a deal - if the winemakers would help with picking, they would receive grapes to make at least five gallons of wine apiece for each picking day. Chester's incentive for inviting Ana was to double his take, since she wasn't interested in winemaking herself.

Ana walked up the steps in the front of the building. She paused and looked at the heavy wooden double doors. Next to these was a sign showing 'Closed' and listing hours. This must be the main entrance, she thought. She walked around the corner on the deck to where the group of men stood.

"Ana," Chester said as he saw her, "you made it!" He opened his arms to pull her next to his ample frame. As he drew her close, "Guys, this is little Ana, who I've been telling you about." He always called her 'little Ana.' 

She looked around and nodded at the group of older men.

"I won't bother to tell you everybody's name yet," said Uncle Chester, " because you'd just forget them. They'll remember you, and you'll get a chance to meet the guys one at a time. This" he pointed around "is pretty much the regular crowd."

Ignoring Uncle Chester's remark, a flurry of quick handshakes and introductions followed. 'Ross' and 'Howard' were names she could catch, but she wasn't certain which was who. Adding to the confusion, there were two Marks.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise. Ana decided it came from around the corner, and guessed it was the sound of the big doors closing. Sure enough, within seconds, a man came around the corner of the deck, an air of impatience about him. He was younger and taller than the others, in his mid to late 30s, clothed in a sleeveless tee shirt despite the morning chill. He was easily over six feet and his hair was on the long side - at least compared to the corporate types that Ana was used to. He had a mustache and a light outline of beard - as if he simply didn't bothered to shave for a few days. His work pants and high rubber boots showed stains of mud and grass. 

He stopped and looked around, at the group. Ana was immediately struck by the intensity the man projected. She wondered if this was the man Uncle Chester cautioned her about. If so, he was nothing like he imagined. The tan, well-defined arms and sun streaks in his hair verified that he spent much time working outside, yet there was something in the way he carried himself that suggested that there was a far more complex character inside the laborer's body. Ana could see how this man was irresistible to many women, though he wasn't what she considered her type. Nonetheless, something about him attracted her. She couldn't take her eyes off him.

He stopped a few feet from the group and spoke.

"OK, who tried to kill the old man?" 

Ana's private thoughts faded away as she felt a sudden sick sensation in her stomach. Of course, the golf cart! She started to say something, but Uncle Chester interrupted.

"You know damn well he doesn't look where he's going! Since he got that ridiculous thing, he's completely out of control!"

The younger man narrowed his eyes and Ana thought he was going to confront Uncle Chester. But his manner relaxed, and he laughed, a rich and honest laugh. 

"Yeah, but I have to hear about it every time. From Todd and sometimes Brandon, not from Jack. He couldn't care less."

Ana noted that the young man spoke with a slow, deliberate voice, nothing like the 'rush rush' types she had been exposed to in her career in insurance sales. His eyes were bright steely blue. She saw the speed with which he took in the surroundings, and again thought that he must be more intelligent that his appearance initially suggested. She was amused to realize that she was making the same generalization others frequently made about her - anyone that good looking couldn't possibly be that smart! His eyes took an inventory of the people, then slowed, landing on her. She met his gaze, but she felt like he could read her thoughts. She was about to avert her eyes when he winked. The intensity was still there, but it was tempered with friendliness.

"So, who's this?" he addressed Uncle Chester.

"This is Ana, I told you about her. She's here to help us pick." Ana was relieved that Uncle Chester left off the 'little.'

"That's right. You all did show up this morning to pick grapes! Isn't it about time we get started?" 

The group of men made mock groaning sounds, then started to walk around the deck, down the stairs, then back toward a shed a few feet from the side of the wood building. They made jokes about being 'slave labor,' and 'underpaid' as they walked along. Ana started to follow but she felt a presence. The young man fell in step beside her.

"Hiya. I'm Miles Delong, winemaker, general manager, and whatever else the old SOB tells me to do." He held out a hand. She took his hand and suddenly felt strange. She drew her hand back quickly, not knowing what to think. She looked at him, he didn't appear to think anything of her sudden movement. She hoped she didn't look as flustered as she felt. She forced herself to sound casual.

"I thought you must be Miles. Ana Palmer. And I'm sorry, if I nearly hit the man on the golf cart."

"Naaah. Chester's right. The old man Jack, or Mister Formby, by the way, owns the vineyard and winery, but nowadays he just does sales and promo work. He hired me some years ago when his arthritis got bad and I was...available. And, taught me more about grapes and wine than I ever realized one person could learn. He bought that golf cart last year, and I'll be damned if he doesn't pull out in front of someone each time. In fact, I know of at least one new picker who got so scared he left!" He paused and thought for a moment. "He did come back, though. We were picking Cab Sav and Merlot that day."

"You know, I don't really know anything about this," Ana confessed. "I mean, I do drink wine, not too much, I mean, I don't have a problem or anything, but I've never worked at a winery, or grown grapes or anything."

"Oh, well, by 'Cab Sav,' I meant Cabernet Savignon. You've probably heard of that. We tend to get into shorthand like any other profession. At any rate, no experience required, as long as you keep an open mind. The old guys will help you. Maybe you know this, but they mostly belong to a home winemakers club."

She nodded. "Uncle Chester told me that you like to have the best grapes hand picked. 

"That's right, we use a mechanical harvester for some of the others. But, my current project is to experiment with some serious hand-crafted varietal wines. 'Varietal means - "

Ana interrupted. "I know, the wines that are all, or very nearly all, made out of a single grape type. And often, especially in America, named after that type. Like your Cab Savs, which is a term I know, by the way."

Miles lifted his eyebrows. "I'm impressed. Maybe you can teach me some things."

Ana looked at him sharply. He wasn't laughing, and didn't appear sarcastic. He was just staring at her, all of her, and appeared to be carrying on an internal dialog of some sort. She regretted not wearing a touch of makeup - some blush and a light lip gloss, at least.

Then she wondered why she wanted this man to find her attractive, she wasn't looking for a flirtation. Or, was she? Miles looked a little wistful, then smiled again.

"We've had ladies out here before, and they've been some of the best workers. Plus, it makes the old guys work harder, so no woman is beating them out." 

Ana smiled and nodded. She could see the logic in that. For many years of her working life, she felt that men were far more competitive with a woman than they were with other men in similar situations. 

They arrived at the shed. Miles handed Ana a set of clippers from a cardboard box. 

"Chester said that you just got laid off from your job. "

Ana nodded. "10 years with the company, and they went through a merger, then moved to Chicago. The jobs, not the people. My first and only job after college."

"That's tough. I've been through some changes, although not quite like your situation." He again looked thoughtful. "But its all water under the bridge, whatever that means. Maybe I should invent some saying like 'its like grapes through a press.' Because the grapes aren't whole anymore, but, if all goes well, you end up with wine, which is even better than grapes, in my opinion at least. I tend to believe that things work out for the better, if you let them. At any rate, I hope you like working with us. We only work until about noon or one, depending on how much we have to do. Then we break for lunch, then, if anybody's left standing, they help out for a couple more hours, otherwise I do it myself, with a little help from my friend Jimmy who comes over a little later on. Hey, I don't mean to talk your ear off. I guess we haven't had a new person here for awhile. Let me show you where we're working today."

They walked away from the shed, to the south. A gravel path curved around the back of the wood building. It led through a wooded area. Stone benches stood intermittently along the path, and a fork in the path led to two large covered wooden shelter houses lined with picnic tables. A long grill sat between the shelter houses. 

"That's where we do our Saturday cookouts during the summer. We started a few years ago, and it's turned out to be a real money maker for us," Miles said with some pride. We've also been able to hire people to run the tasting and tours and retail, and work the cookouts. Jimmy and I used to do that all ourselves, along with taking care of the vines and the wines. We still like to work the grill, though."

Then they went slightly uphill and out of the woods. Ana stared in amazement.

From the road, the winery looked like a normal park. You could see the driveway, trees, lots of picnic tables and the shelter houses, and as you went up the driveway, the multi story main building with a gazebo on one side and a stage some distance behind. But, not a sign of grape vines. Ana expected to see a flat square area, maybe even an acre. She was taken aback by this vision. From the rise where they stood, there was a buffer of about 50 yards of grass. The terrain sloped down, and rolled into a long flat area. As far as she could see were row after row of trellised vines, extending from a central grassy area, like the mouth of a river. In the middle of the grassy area was what looked like a compost pile covered with pieces of wood. Between each row of vines were open rows with very close cut grass. At the head of some of the vine rows stood a single rose bush.

"How many vines are there?" she asked Miles. "There must be thousands."

"About five thousand, depending on the day," he answered. "We get losses

every year. Some weather, some disease, some new ones just don't take. But we hold pretty steady at this size. Much bigger, and we'd have a hard time with vine maintenance. Any smaller, well, we are at a point of selling most of what we produce annually. So, we really can't get any smaller. What I would do, if it was up to me, is maybe tear out some of what we have and plant some different types. " He pointed to the left. "We're picking some of the whites today. Including Chardonney. Those rows over there."

Ana could see piles of bright yellow square plastic crates at the ends of several rows. She saw bodies at intervals on each side of a few rows. The other pickers were already hard at work. 

"I like to pair up pickers. One on each side of a row, across from each other. They miss less that way. Just go on down and find someone who's alone. Or, if everyone's in a pair, just make it a three. They'll let you know when the lugs are full. And, have fun!" 

Miles turned back and walked toward the winery. After a few steps, he stopped and turned back. Ana was making her way down the slope. He shook his head. Don't even think about it, Miles. That's the last thing you need. But he couldn't stop staring, she was nothing like he had expected. She was so natural - pony tail and no makeup, and so down to earth in her attitude. She was thin but shapely, and, on the tall side, five seven or so, he guessed, with long legs under her faded jeans. Just the type he had a weakness for. Her light red hair had sparkled in the morning sun as they walked. He had to fight an impulse to touch her again - just to see if he had really felt something electric when he briefly held her hand. He hadn't missed that she pulled back suddenly - did she feel something as well? He shook his head again and turned around. Work, Miles, work, he told himself. As he walked back, he chanted it like a mantra. Work, work, work. But he knew he'd have trouble staying focused on the grapes this morning.

As Ana walked, she looked around. The leaves on the vines were shades of bright green, some showing the first sign of turning fall colors of amber and brown. From many vines, shoots and branches spread well into the aisles between the rows. The number of vines was intimidating. The rows were spaced at about 7 or 8 feet, and were each a couple of hundred feet in length. Each row had a large wooden end pole, and in the rows with a rose bush, it stood about 18 inches in front of the end pole. Many of the end poles bore a metal sign with a name. Ana passed by several different names, certain they were names of grape types, but she didn't recognize any of them. She reached the 5 rows with the plastic crates at the end. Seeing that each man was tossing bunches of grapes into a crate at his side, she picked one up. About half way down the center row, Ana saw Uncle Chester, picking alone.

"I was waiting for you," he said. "I see you met Miles. Or, he made sure he met you!"

"Uncle Chester, I don't see what the big deal is. He seems really nice, and very informative."

"You just watch out, young lady. I know you're still trying to get over Greg." Greg was her ex-husband.

"Uncle Chester, how can I get over Greg? He won't leave me alone!" It was true, her ex had called her daily since the news came that her job was being eliminated. He blamed their break up on her job, and was trying to convince her to try things again.

"So, Do I just start cutting?"

"Cut the bunches, try not to miss any or to get leaves in with them. Throw them in your lug. When it starts to get heavy, then get another one. You'll get a feel for how full they should be after while. If they're too heavy, we can't pick them up later when we need to. Just watch mine, and fill yours about as full. And, you just stay away from young Miles there. Not that he's all bad." Chester mused. He took this place and turned it around. Jack Formby was running it out of what's now the tool shed. Our wine club used to pick some of his grapes, but he didn't have half the number. And, he was open when he felt like it, and not open when he didn't feel like it. He didn't want to have the hassle of the things Miles started - cook outs, catering for parties and wedding receptions, live music, winery tours, and the like. And, his own kids wouldn't have anything to do with the place. It wasn't until Miles started to make a success that they started to act interested. Now, of course, Jack says you can't keep them away. Brandon flunked out of college, then started working here, and Todd has appointed himself CEO, which means that he tries to look like he's in charge. Of course, one of these days I expect they'll inherit the place. I hope for Miles' sake that he has other plans - those boys will make his life miserable once when Jack passes on. But, that's not my concern." Ana wanted to ask Chester more questions about Miles, he seemed to know quite a lot. Its just normal curiosity, she told herself, like anytime 


In the Vineyard Ch. 01



you meet someone new. But, she stayed silent - she didn't want to hear anymore of Chester's warnings.

Ana started to snip hesitantly at the bunches of yellow gold grapes, and was surprised to see how many bunches she could see. Some were at the top of the vine, on the upper wire of the trellis, some were through the middle, and occasionally she saw a bunch near the bottom. She had to move the branches out of the way to get at many of the grapes. She found this surprisingly difficult, some of the branches extended well into other vines.

Ana finally decided to speak. "Where did Miles come from?" She asked Uncle Chester, trying to sound blase. "It couldn't be another winery, or he wouldn't tell me that Jack taught him everything."

Chester was reaching down for a bunch of grapes. He snipped them, then straightened up. 

"That's another thing about him, " he said. "No one really knows. Miles' dad had some connection to Jack, but he's dead. Miles' dad, I mean. Miles isn't from this part of the state. Or from the capital area. He came here from somewhere else, up north, or something, but he doesn't talk about it much. I think he has something to hide. Maybe even a criminal record."

"Uncle Chester!" she exclaimed. You shouldn't assume that!"

"You're right. I will tell you again what I told you and your parents, what I do know is that no female around here is safe from him, even those young girls working in the winery and tasting room. I hear that they have quite a turnover as a result of Miles."

Ana laughed. "I hear you. But you can't think that I would fall for a guy like that. He's really not my type. I only go out with single professional males, not unshaven grape farmers with mysterious pasts!" As she spoke, she remembered the sensation she felt as her hand touched his. It was because he was warm, she told herself. My hands were so cold. It was just the temperature difference.

Ana was relieved that Chester laughed at her last remark and didn't say anything else about Miles. By this time, each had filled their lug with the green goldish grapes. Chester walked back down the row to get more lugs. Ano looked at her watch. Only 9:30 and she was already getting stiff. It occurred to her that everyone there expected her to be a real help since she was much younger than the others. Nonetheless, aerobics and kickboxing classes weren't the same as real labor. This was different than anything she was used to. Ana hadn't worked outside for years - when she'd lived in a house with a yard, there were hired landscapers. Her current condominium allowed her minimal growing space around the patio - her only planting this summer had been done in pots. 

Uncle Chester returned with the four more lugs. "We're going pretty slow - see how much those guys are gaining on us?" The men he referred to had started at the top of the row and were much closer to Ana and Chester than Ana and Chester were to the pair further down. Chester snipped on Ana's side. "You missed those." The grape bunch was obscured by leaves. "Miles does an inspection after we finished, and he complains if we miss any. Always threatens to 'fire us' and we remind him that we don't get paid anyway!" Chester chuckled. 

------------------------

Ana felt challenged and started picking with as much speed as she could muster. She realized that her competitive nature was winning out over her fears of doing something wrong. She also realized, surprised, that she kept imagining Miles impressed with her abilities. She started to feel the same twinge of depression that surrounded her these days. Until recently, she had such a great job, and felt so good about herself, and now it was like she didn't have anything. It wasn't money, not yet. Her severance pay and savings would last quite a while. She also decided specifically to take some time off, to reenergize after the rough last months at work. The final days of working, packing up the boxes, shipping unfinished business off to someone she had never met who would take over her accounts, left her with feelings of betrayal, anger, and a real sense of loss. She knew that her work functioned as her substitute for family, even during her marriage. After the marriage was over, she poured herself even more into the job. The irony was that this office's success, in which she was instrumental, was part of the attraction leading to the final merger that cost her job.

Ana forced herself to focus on the grapes. She filled the next lug. And the next several, she lost count, after an hour or so. They went down one row and up a portion of the next. Miles appeared periodically, sometimes on a tractor with a cart to pick up the lugs, and sometimes walking down the rows, checking for missed grapes as Chester predicted. He moved quickly and gracefully, and the intensity she had been so taken with was evident. Also evident was his obvious enjoyment of the process. She guessed that Miles had lived his life as an outdoor person. She found herself watching out of the corner of her eye for him. Ana, she scolded herself, you're acting like a teenager. OK, so he has a nice body. And, he must know it - but I bet he prefers women in their 20s, bimbo types that look good but aren't very smart! 

Miles walked up and down, telling himself he was making a mental estimation of the yield, all the while looking for a head that was not grey or bald, but red. He stopped short of walking down the row when he saw Ana and Chester picking. He reminded himself that he made a rule never to bother pickers - so no time was wasted. Besides, he'd bet that Chester gave her an earful about Miles' 'reputation.' Besides, she was an executive type - she wouldn't be able to see past Miles' present circumstances. Running a successful Midwestern winery didn't carry with it the clout of being a winemaker for some a small California, Washington or Oregon operation. Or even New York State. Of course, it was one of Miles' goals to build a new reputation for wines from the Midwest. For now, though, he was living in the back of the winery, driving an old pick up truck, and saving every dime of his share of the profits for the day when he's start his very own winery. She was the kind of woman who would have liked him before he got here. In his 'old' life. All the more reason not to think about her! He could never go back to that. In wine, he found his real passion, something that kept him up sometimes for days on end, and never failed to be rewarding, even when the results weren't perfect. And each year brought new challenges and new opportunities. No, Miles couldn't imagine doing anything else ever again! Still, she did seem to have some interest in wine. Miles, he told himself, think about the grapes.

It was nearly noon on Ana's watch, and all of the pickers were crowded in the last few feet of the last row. Ana was feeling tired - the heat, the up and down, sometimes crawling literally into the canopy of vines - she was even getting a blister on her forefinger from the clippers. She had long since taken off her windbreaker and tied it around her waist. She was thankful now for the short-sleeved shirt and the sunglasses she found in her pocket. She imagined getting into her car, air conditioning on, of course, and driving to the mall for an Iced Cappucino. 

Someone shouted something, and the group of pickers started to wander off across the open field. She assume it was the end for today, but, to her surprise, the group settled into another pair of rows, which were marked by plastic lugs, this time white. One of the oldest looking of the men, made his way to her.

"So, Ana," he was grinning and panting, "What do you think of all this? I'm Howard, by the way."

"Oh, its harder work than I imagined. But its probably good exercise. And it is a great day."

"You must have noticed that Miles likes to get as much work out of the crew as possible. No matter what he says, I can't remember a day, other than the last day we pick each year, that we finished anything like noon. But, you know, he watches the weather, and he tries to take advantage of the nice days with a good turnout, like today." Ana noticed as they moved that the number of pickers present had increased substantially from the original half dozen. "It's a real juggling act - deciding what's ripe enough when and not letting them stay on the vines too long either. Oh, well. Looks like two more rows, and the crew gets a break. Shouldn't take an hour, with everyone working here. Myself, I can't do anymore. I'm going to go help count what we've got." 

As he walked away, Chester said, "You'd hardly know it, but he's going to be 85 next month. I'm surprised that he works as long as he does." Ana took a breath and reminded herself that she should, at 32, be able to outwork a nearly 85-year-old any day of the week.

The settled in to the last rows, and it did go quickly. With the fifteen or so pickers all gathered near to one another, the conversations were loud and spirited. They made joke insults about each other's ages, and occasionally someone slipped and made an off color remark. At that point, there was always a shout of "Watch your mouth, there's a lady present." Ana was more embarrassed by the chastising than any of the initial remarks. During her years in business, she had heard, and told, her share of questionable jokes. A big part of her job was sales, and along with that went travel, restaurants, bars, seminars, sporting events. And, more often than not, dirty jokes and adult conversations were the rule, not the exception. There were more women now in professional positions, than in the past, but business was still dominated in certain areas by men. Many women who could have achieved Ana's position didn't care to deal with the required travel and evenings out - they had children, music lessons, soccer practice, football games, school plays and the like. Ana was often the only woman involved in a certain event. She didn't mind that, as a child, she was a 'tomboy,' and her dad's substitute for the son he hadn't had. Ana left her boyish appearance behind with her childhood, her formerly too skinny body developed noticeable curves as she grew up. She wore her hair loose and full, and enjoyed the attention her appearance brought her. She dressed in a feminine though conservative way for business, but tended to be more youthful in her choice of casual clothes, preferring skirts and dresses to slacks whenever possible. She still had an edge, though. She was a competitor through and through, and given a challenge, could become almost obsessive in her focus. She'd go for days on little sleep and minimal food when a big project or sales proposal was in the works. Greg never really understood that side of her, he found it challenging and unattractive.

Ana's thoughts were interrupted by a yell from the end of one of the rows of vines.

"We're done here!"

She noticed that everyone picking was crammed into a few feet at the middle of one row. The workers started at the top and the bottom and worked their way toward the crew in the middle. She saw only a few bunches, and backed away to make room for some of the others, who appeared more enthused. She found Chester, and they stood on the edge of the row, watching. 

"Sure, Jimmy, try to look like you've been hauling ass all day," one of the men, it might have been a Mark, said. He was addressing one of the later arrivals, a small man with a head of dark, full, curly hair. Ana guessed him to be about 28. 

"How long've you been here?" the maybe Mark continued.

Jimmy stopped and dramatically wiped his brow. With a flourish, he removed an old-fashioned pocket watch from his jeans. He flipped the top open, squinted at the face, and replied, "Exactly 35 and a half minutes!"

The group all laughed. Jimmy looked pained, but it seemed to be more for show than actual hurt feelings. "If you led a life as full as mine, you'd know how tough it is for me to get here at all! The brew club had their monthly meeting last night!" 

The men laughed again. Ana guess from the familiarity that this exchange went on all of the time. She asked Uncle Chester about it, as the group started to head back toward the winery. It was now ten minutes to one. 

"Jimmy is sort of Miles' unpaid assistant. He's not really a winemaker - although he helps. In fact, he makes his own beer, instead. He's what you might call a 'professional student.' He inherited some money when his folks passed away, and he just keeps going to college, lives in an apartment in Creekboro. In fact, I think he rooms with Brandon Formby now. He works now and then as a bartender, but he has lots of free time to help. We all kid him, but honestly, he's strong - stronger than you'd guess for his size - and he comes out here to help during other parts of the year when most of us don't."

"Miles mentioned him. He said that Jimmy and he just work on vines and wines, now."

Uncle Chester looked at her with some concern. "Sounds to me like you and Miles had quite a talk."

"For crying out loud, Uncle Chester! He just told me about the cook outs and things when he was showing me to the vines."

"Just you remember what I said about that character. Anyway, young Jimmy, he doesn't come pick for grapes - he only comes out or the social part."

"They are a really nice group of men," Ana offered.

Uncle Chester laughed. "That's not what I meant about the 'social part.' Just you wait until we have lunch." Until that point, Ana assumed that she'd go home and shower. She was dusty and had perspired in the heat. She could feel the beginnings of aches and pains in little used muscles. Yet, some part of her wanted to get another look at Miles. Just looking, she thought. He is attractive, in an outdoorsy way. No harm in looking. Just a diversion, while I'm supposed to be deciding whether or not to get seriously involved with Greg again. 

Ana's ex husband Greg Romano was an attorney who graduated from an Ivy League law school. He made lots of money and enjoyed spending it. He wore the finest in clothes, drove expensive flashy cars, played golf, tennis, even sometimes polo, and considered himself an expert on fine food and wines. Ana's parents were crazy about him and heartbroken by the divorce. Since college, Ana had only dated men with 'potential,' business majors, MBA students, or working professionals. Greg was the most impressive of her dates, and attractive enough, with his almost black hair and dark eyes. Her parents instantly encouraged the union. Thinking back on it, it seemed that the idea of marriage was suggested by Ana's father before Ana or Greg considered it. 

What no one expected was that Ana would still want her own career. And her own name. Greg was initially indulgent, but as the travel became more frequent, he started suggesting that she quit or at least change positions. He was old fashioned, and assumed that his wife would do charitable work, study things like painting or music, and produce and care for a large family - he was one of six and assumed that they would have a large family. Ana wouldn't even discuss it. She was heading for the top, and received promotions, bonuses, stock options, and eventually became the top sales person in the office. She wasn't completely surprised when Greg started having extra marital affairs, their love life was never the focus of their relationship, even when she was not on the road. When she discussed Greg's infidelities with her mother, her mother said that it was Ana's fault, because she was too independent. 

They went along in this pattern for a couple of years, things were so comfortable that Ana simply ignored Greg's activities. And she poured herself into the job, working evenings, weekends, going in early and staying out late. The blow up came suddenly. After a week out of town spent on a deal that fell apart, Ana came home, already frustrated, to find Greg with a companion in their home. In their bed. Ana drew the line at that. Thinking back, she now thought that she was more upset about the business deal that the blond in the bedroom. No matter, in uncertain terms, Ana told him she wanted a divorce. She packed her things and moved back to her parent's home that night. 

Greg spent the next months trying to talk her into reconciling, even convincing her parents to intercede on his behalf. But, Ana could be stubborn and she wasn't about to change her mind. During their separation, Greg bought her the condo - she was not home enough to want or need a house. He finally agreed to the divorce, giving her a generous cash settlement which she kept as her 'rainy day' account. Although Greg continuted to date, without fail, between relationships, he'd call Ana and try to get her to go out. Often as not, he spoke to her on her cell phone while she was on a trip. She never found time to go out with him. She rarely found time to talk to him until the day she was told her job was over in 90 days.

Greg was a great source of support during that time. He broke off with his current girlfriend, and called Ana every evening to see how she was doing. She was aware that he thought she would want to get back together once her job was over, and everyone she knew, including her parents, assumed it would happen. But Ana was determined to take some time off before starting a search for a new job. While she didn't rule out a reconciliation with Greg, she knew that she defined herself through her work achievements. She wasn't about to lose the momentum she'd gained. 

It wasn't really money or even prestige that she desired although she did like those things. Traveling first class, staying at the best hotels, all of the perks that went along with the job were part of the attraction. But, most of all, it was the thrill of the win. Every successful sale was a 'win,' and every unsuccessful one was a 'future win.' And, Ana saw herself as a winner! She feared that Greg would pressure her to take more time off than she'd planned, and eventually try to talk her into not working at all. And, she couldn't possibly imagine herself hanging around with other stay at home wives or moms, having luncheons and teas, and gossiping about who was doing what. 

------------------------

Ana reached the winery building along with the other pickers. They were all moving much more slowly than they had that morning. The lugs of grapes were stacked up on a concrete patio in the back of the winery building near the shed. The land sloped down, so the pad sat lower than the shed and was connected to a lower level of the winery. An open garage door led to a concrete room. Shelving and huge stainless steel tanks were visible inside. Howard was seated in the shade in a glider, and motioned Ana over. She gladly sat down, and Jimmy handed her a paper cup of water. 

"We haven't been introduced. I'm Jim, or Jimmy. I'm the operations manager here." He received a chorus of laughter in return. "Seriously," he said to her quietly, "if you need anything, let me know. I know my way around." He looked at her with some curiosity. "So, you're related to Chester?"

"Not really. Old friends. I've called him Uncle Chester since I was a kid."

"Married? I see no ring."

Ana looked back at him. She didn't get a sense that he was coming on to her. "Divorced, for what its worth."

"Did you meet Miles?" So, that was it. Miles' friend was trying to play matchmaker. 

"Yes. He seems quite knowledgeable," she said, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah. He knows a lot about wine. Anyway, you need anything, just ask." 

She thanked him sincerely and drank the water. Some of the other pickers were carrying out trays of food, setting them up on picnic tables on and around the concrete. A large number of unlabeled bottles of wine were sitting about. They must be homemade, Ana thought. Uncle Chester emerged from the concrete room with a box which turned out to contain wine glasses. He picked each up and read a name off the bottom - Ana tried to keep track of who was who, and was pleased to see that the man she'd thought was named Mark actually was. Chester made certain that everyone had a glass, then presented Ana with a clean class and a paint pen to mark her name on the bottom.




In the Vineyard Ch. 01



"That way, every time you come, you'll have your glass." 

She spotted Miles a few yards away. He was engaged in conversation with to a young woman in a golf shirt with an embroidered Creek Valley Winery logo. The young woman was had almost waist length blond hair, a dark tan and was wearing tight blue jeans. She must be one of the workers in the tasting room or wine shop, Ana thought. I'd bet she's one of his girl friends, too. She was asking Miles for something, and she touched his chest in a familiar way, smiling up at him. Miles didn't return the smile, and abruptly turned away from her, walking past the pickers, through the garage door, and through a smaller door into another room. He returned with a case box, looking angry. The young woman followed him, pointing toward a car in the parking lot. Any hint anger of disappeared when Miles greeted the old couple near the car. He carefully placed the case box in their trunk, and stopped to talk for a few minutes. He pointed toward the back, shook hands and walked back to the others. He spotted Jimmy. 

"Brandon is 'too busy' to load a case, so Kayla 'volunteered' to get it done," he said, "Of course, that means getting me to do it for her." Miles seemed to suddenly remember something.

Jimmy looked at Ana. "I bet they forgot to input that. When they move something from storage to retail, they're supposed to update the computer. But, Miles is right, they should have plenty of case boxes in the store. And, there shouldn't be anyone working there who can't lift one." He leaned closer to her. "Thing is, those young fems all have a thing for Miles. He can be a charmer, but what they don't realize is that he's one hundred fifty percent devoted to the work, when its time. And, he tries really hard to show these guys," he gestured at the picker group, who had started opening up bottles of wine and sampling, "the best time he can. You've got to treat volunteers a lot better than employees! I bet he gave Kayla another earful, just now!" Jimmy laughed a little. Then he looked at Ana with a serious expression. "By the way, don't believe everything you hear about Miles. He's not that bad a guy." 

"Are you his PR department?" Ana asked, lightly. 

Jimmy laughed again. "OK, fair enough. No, he doesn't pay me to find eligible women. You seem like a nice enough person, and he's my friend, well, you know. I'll knock it off. I didn't realize I was being that obvious." Ana smiled at him. She appreciated his directness.

"It's OK," she said. "But you may be wasting your efforts on me."

Just then, Miles came back through the building. He had taken his shirt off and Ana found herself staring at his chest. He must work shirtless much of the time, his tan was even across his chest. He turned, and Ana noticed how muscular his back was. He reached into a metal storage closet and pulled out another sleeveless tee shirt that he put on. The shirt showed signs of old grape or wine stains, but Ana appreciated the fact that Miles was well mannered enough to put a shirt on. He'd removed the rubber boots and was wearing simple leather sandals. He leaned down and picked up two bottles of wine on the floor and carried them out to the others. Ana looked away from Miles and saw Jimmy watching her intently. She felt awkward, thinking about their exchange, but Jimmy grinned at her, an honest good-natured grin, and she smiled back. 

"So, what've you got?" Jimmy asked Miles. 

"A ten-year-old Chardonney I forgot I had, and some from two years ago, six months in oak."

By now, the picking group was well into their lunch. The trays of food were unwrapped and revealed a fine selection of lunch meats, cold salads, breads and condiments and one small tray entirely consisting of desserts. Ana was still sitting beside Howard, holding her glass. He looked at her.

"Better get some before it's all gone." 

Ana nodded. She got up, took a paper plate and started to make a sandwich. As she was reaching for a slice of cheese, her arm bumped someone else's. It was Miles, holding a glass of red wine. He spilled part of it, and it splashed on her tee shirt. The red wine left a stain in the middle of her chest. Miles put the glass down. He grabbed a paper towel to try to wipe up the spill, but seeing where it was, held back.

"I'm awfully sorry," he said, obviously embarrassed. He looked down. Its bad enough to soak her in wine, he thought, don't compound it by staring at her chest. 

"Don't worry," she answered. "Besides, its as much my fault as yours." Why did he look away from her, she wondered. She wouldn't have minded it if he tried to wipe the stain. No, maybe it was better if he didn't touch her again. She was relieved when he lifted his eyes to meet hers.

Miles tried to gauge her reaction. Thankfully, she didn't act mad. "It sounds strange, but I've always heard that the best thing for a red wine stain is the pour white wine on it. I'm sure we've got some white wine around here to spare. Do you have something else to put on?" 

Ana shook her head. 

" Let me loan you something. In fact, I'll give you a winery shirt it that's OK." He added, "I don't want you to have a bad first impression." 

A light breeze made the spill cold against Ana's skin. She agreed, to change and Miles led her into the building, through the first room, through a doorway and took out a set of keys to unlock a room to the left labeled 'Office.' 

"Just close the door, and you can take your shirt off in there. It's my office, so no one else will try to come in. I'll go see what we have." Miles took a deep breath as he closed the door. He found himself imagining what she would look like under the tee shirt. He also wondered what it would be like to spend time with her, alone. She was obviously intelligent. And so different than what he expected Greg Romano's ex wife to be like. Ana didn't have the air of the spoiled, country club bitch Miles had visualized. He had seen her in the vineyard that morning, acting like one of the guys. The only thing flashy about her was the yellow car, and he thought he remembered that Greg had bought it for her as part of the divorce settlement. 

After Miles left, Ana looked around the office, curious to see what clues she could glean about its occupant. It was sparsely furnished, a desk, an office chair, a couple of straight back chairs, a desktop and a portable computer, a small television with built in video, piles of wine magazines. The desktop computer was set to display the local weather forecast. There was only one photograph on the wall, a framed 8' x 12' picture of Miles himself, in jeans and a tee shirt beside a row of grape vines in full growth. He had slightly shorter hair, neither the mustache or beard, and looked puffy. Same guy, but he's in much better shape now she thought. She wondered about this. Maybe she was wrong to assume that he had spent his life working outside - the shorter haired Miles in the photograph looked a little out of place in jeans - like a banker or lawyer having a dress down day. A small card extended from the corner of the picture frame. On it was written "First Harvest and a New Beginning." Ana touched the card and it fell on the floor. She picked it up and found it was a business card. The print was smudged and partially rubbed off. She could make out 'Davis,' followed by a blur, then the words 'Certified Financial Planner.' There was also a letter or something before the 'Davis,' it looked like an 'M.' Did it say Mr, she wondered? Beneath the name, examples of services - retirement planning, college investments, annuities - were shown and an address and telephone number. Hearing a sound behind her, Ana stuck the card back in the corner, now wondering about the phrasing 'a new beginning.' Someone was knocking. 

"Miles?" said an unfamiliar voice, then someone stepped in, closing the door. Seeing Ana, he said "Oh, my God! What is he thinking now? Get out of here!" The man was very tall, over six foot, slim, with dark hair that Ana would have guessed was partially a wig or toupee. He was wearing a blue suit, with a white button down shirt and a red patterned tie. He had the appearance of a politician dressed for a televised speech. 

Another knock. "Are you decent?" Miles' voice. 

Before Ana could speak, the suit opened the door. "Miles, this has just gone too far," he said. "You can have your little things, but for God's sake, can't you keep them in your living quarters? Or, as the saying goes "Get a room!?"

"Wait a minute, Todd. First of all, you are embarrassing this young lady. You need to start thinking with your brain, not your...," Miles left the sentence unfinished. "Todd Formby, allow me to introduce you to Ana Palmer. Her family are good friends with Chester Van Meter. And, in fact, she used to be married to someone else you know, a certain Greg Romano!"

Ana looked up at the mention of Greg's name. How did Miles know about Greg? Or even who Greg was? She remembered that Todd Formby was one of the owner's sons, along with Brandon, the one who hadn't wanted to load the case of wine. What was Greg's connection to Todd? And Miles?

Todd looked at Ana as if seeing her for the first time. His stare made her uncomfortable - he was obvious in the way that he looked up and down her body.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Palmer," he said.

"Its Ms.," she said. After she said it, she didn't know why, Ana didn't usually care one way or another. Something about this Todd made her uncomfortable. But, Uncle Chester hadn't said anything positive about the Formby brothers. On the other hand, he had been full of warnings about Miles, yet she didn't find him disconcerting at all. In fact, she was becoming intrigued by him. She was becoming convinced that she was right to conclude that Miles was more than he initially appeared.

Todd stammered a little. "Uh, well, Miles. I need to see you. Important." He had a air of superiority as he addressed the other man.

Miles looked at him. "Not now, Todd. I have to do lunch with the grape pickers. Then we have to crush the grapes. The soonest you can see me is then, that is, if you want to help."

Todd looked angry. He was losing face in front of this young woman he'd found instantly attractive. "Be back here at 4, sharp, then," he said making it sound like an order.

"Make it 4:30, and I'll try. No promises. We picked a lot of grapes today."

Todd started to go. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Palmer. I hope I see you again sometime. Maybe you'd like to come here sometime for a tasting as my guest."

Ana didn't want to be rude. "How nice of you to ask," she said non commitally.

Todd made touched her hand, not a shake, nor did he try something old fashioned like kissing it, he just clasped it for a second and left. His hands were cold, as if he'd been near an air conditioner all day.

Miles looked relieved. "There's a little tension there. I'm sorry you had to see that. And, I'm really sorry about what he said to you when he came in. You see, there are people here who talk, and..."

Ana interrupted. "It's OK. Uncle Chester told me all about it. I mean the Formbys. And some other things." She changed the subject "How do you know Greg?"

"Long story. I don't know him that well. He does some work for Todd." Miles wanted to tell Ana the truth - sure, he'd dated many of the younger women who worked at the winery. In fact, he purposely dated women that he knew he couldn't get serious about. He just liked having someone to go out for dinner and drinks, or to the occasional movie. But he was growing tired of women who was so much younger that they had little in common. And, Miles was not interested in casual sex. In fact, he was always concerned about the woman's reputation, based on how things were when he was young. Back then, girls who 'got around' were considered bad. It was truly a surprise for him to find that many of these younger women wanted to have sex, like it was a contest or something. And none of them seemed to want to admit that Miles hadn't been cooperative. So, many of them claimed they'd 'done it,' with Miles. Once it started, no one else wanted to admit that they'd failed. 

But, the turnover at the winery was due to the seasonal nature of the business peak and the young age of the workers. Miles was a conscientious manager, and treated the workers fairly, whether he dated them or not. Most were college students who were going away to school, or graduated, or took their experience working at the winery and went to a bar or nightclub where the tips were more lucrative.

He had with him two winery shirts, a pink golf shirt and a blue denim long sleeved button down. "I'm afraid the denim may be a little hot, but we don't have any smaller sizes left in the others. They tell me they're 'on order.' Whatever that means. It's the same thing here as anywhere else, want something done right, do it yourself."

Ana thanked him and took the denim shirt. He turned to go. 

"I'll leave a bucket with some white wine outside the door. Just put your shirt in it, with the stain down. If you forget it today, you can get it next time. I mean, if you want to come back."

Ana sensed that Miles was reluctant to leave. He seemed to want to keep talking to her.

"Thanks, " she said. "I'll be right out." She didn't want him to leave either, but it had occurred to her than Uncle Chester would notice their joint absence.

"Yeah," Miles moved toward the door. "We're missing the best part. The guys all bring some of the wines they make and they pass them around, take turns insulting each other. Its all in good fun, though, and its really where people learn a lot from each others trial and errors." 

Ana nodded. She was thinking to herself that this was actually the best part, being alone and this close to Miles. She had an impulse to get closer to him. The real cause of the spill, she was certain, was the electric shock she felt when she realized that it was Miles' arm she touched. 

Miles turned and left, closing the door. Outside the door, he came upon Jimmy. "Ohmygod, you didn't have her already?" Jimmy asked, half mocking, half serious. 

"Todd's already pulled that on me." Miles replied, a little flustered. "Ana is not some 22 year old some bimbo. She's smart, and high class, and I'm sure she'll find some doctor or lawyer to go out with. My days for that kind of female went away a long time ago."

Jimmy sighed. "It doesn't hurt to dream, does it? You can always shoot high."

"I'm already dating someone," Miles said. He didn't know that Ana was walking up behind them. 

"Talk about bimbo," said Jimmy. "And, you can't even be nice to her."

"That's what I like. Women who don't expect me to be nice. Or anything else. Jimmy, you know all about me. Stop the kidding. The last thing I need is to get seriously involved with a woman, especially a high class woman with high class expectations. I can barely take care of myself, as it stands. Besides, well, you know..." he trailed off. 

Ana caught up with them as they left the building, going back out into the sunny afternoon. She vowed to stop focusing on Miles. After all, it was her first day here - she wanted to learn all about wine - and she was acting like a teenager with a crush. Why did everyone assume that she would be interested in this man? Based on the conversation she'd just overheard, he wasn't in the least interested in her, so that was that. She made herself another sandwich, avoiding any collisions or spills, then set out around the tables to sample the various wines. Many were identified with paint pen markings on the glass. Uncle Chester was more elaborate - h had custom labels he made on his computer that described the grapes or fruits used, the year, and any other features. Much of what Ana tasted was on the sweet side. When she did get around to Miles contributions, they were nearly gone. Howard was standing near. He explained to her that these were Miles handmade wines, and not available at the winery. 

"He has his own kegs he keeps separate," Howard said. "He takes a share of the grapes each year as part of his pay, and he buys others from up by the lake." Ana remembered that there were several wineries near the lake. She went to her parents' lake house most weekends during the summer. She imagined running into Miles buying grapes. She stopped at the thought of her parents meeting him. What would they think of him, in his sleeveless tee shirts and dirty rubber boots? The total opposite of Greg, whose golf and tennis clothes were always spotlessly clean and immaculately pressed.

Ana was struck by the flavor of each of Miles' wines. The older one was just beginning to fade, in her opinion, but still possessed a vibrant fruity flavor. And she had heard that white wines generally weren't meant to age. The two year old wine tasted heavily of oak, but, beyond that, didn't compare to the California wines Ana was used to. The word 'complexity' came to mind, she'd heard it used in wine tastings, and now, for one of the few times in her life, she was tasting something she would call 'complex.' By the time Ana had finished tasting the wines, she could feel quite an effect. She had no desire to drive, in fact, probably could have taken a nap.

"OK, break time is over," Miles shouted. "Lets get this thing going."

"Not the old way, again?" someone asked. 

"'Fraid so," Jimmy offered. "Must pump still at the shop."

The 'thing' Miles referred to turned out to be a motorized device with an opening at the top and another on one side. Beneath the side opening, someone placed a wheeled garden cart. Uncle Chester stood on a small footstool behind the device which Ana learned was called a 'crusher-de-stemmer. A plastic trash can went beneath the machine. Jimmy picked up one of the lugs and carried it over to the machine. He dumped its contents into the top and tossed the lug aside where Mark 2 held a hose and rinsed it. Through the course of tasting, Ana learned that there was 'Big Mark,' around six foot tall and built like a football player, and 'Mark 2,' who was slightly shorter, but much thinner. Chester pulled out the stray leaves, and helped feed the grapes through the machine. They fell, lightly crushed, into the trash can. The stems went out the side into the cart. Big Mark carried the next lug over and dumped it easily. 

Miles came up to Ana. She was surprised that he approached her after hearing his remarks of a few minutes ago. 

"The must pump would do the dumping part, but ours is on its last leg. It spends more time broken than working. I had a good deal lined up on a refurbished one, but the guy who was selling it decided to keep it at the last minute. Todd voted against buying a new one this year - he seems to think we don't have to spend any money on anything. By next year, though, we'll have a new one. I can't have these guys wearing themselves out on this. Especially since I want to do more hand picking in the future. I'll need all their energy for that!" 

Ana thought that Miles was so excited about the processes he couldn't help finding time to explain things to a novice. She didn't mind that he was close - even though it gave her a strange sensation. He was several inches taller and a good deal broader. She had a wild notion to lean against him, just to see what he'd do. She imagined touching his chest, as she'd seen the young woman do. She found herself wondering if he felt any of the same chemistry when he was near her that she felt.

Miles moved away from Ana to watch the crusher destemmer. Despite his confident talk, he could tell that this was a woman he could fall for. Could fall for, he said to himself, I'm afraid I've already started falling. Her eyes sparkled and showed intelligence. He'd heard some of the questions she asked while tasting wine and realized that she was knowledgeable but also very open to learning and trying new things. She had asked about every wine she tasted, and she listened carefully to the answers. When she didn't understand something, she asked about it. He saw her asking Chester about the difference in making white wine and red wine. Miles had to hold himself back to keep from butting in at that point. He made himself wait until Ana was alone again. The women he'd dated, mostly workers at the winery, all gained some knowledge about wine, but most seemed to have little interest in wine other than as a way to get an easy buzz. Miles spent long, often wasted hours, trying to get others to appreciate the complicated processes, plus a measure of good luck, that created even the humblest wines. Now, at 39, Miles wanted to spend time with someone who had some life experiences beyond college. Ana, he knew, must be in her 30s, based on the number of years she'd worked. And, he could see that she wasn't a child although her body compared favorably with his generally 20 something dates. He heard some commotion and looked over to see Ana picking up a lug of grapes.




In the Vineyard Ch. 02



Miles passed the bucket with Ana's tee shirt on the way to his office. Here was his excuse to call her! He tried not to remember the many reason getting involved with her was a bad idea. Miles was annoyed to walk into his office and find Todd sitting behind his desk. He quickly slipped the card with Ana's numbers into the back pocket of his jeans.

Todd looked at him. "Greg Romano's not going to like you any better, now that you're hitting on his wife."

"I understood that they were divorced some time ago. Besides, nobody's hitting on anybody. Ms. Executive there is just out here for fun and games, she's not looking to get into winemaking." Miles wanted to make Ana sound like someone who he saw as both unattainable and uninteresting. Otherwise, he was afraid that Todd would keep talking about it, and some gossip might work its way around, to Greg, even to Ana herself.

"Miles, we've got to do something about the stock shortages. I know it's not much, a case here and there, but it concerns me."

"I don't know what else I can do, Todd. I'm not just counting every full case we sell, it now seems that I'm expected to deliver each one, too."

"I heard about that, Miles, and I don't think you should be dealing with the customers after spending the morning out in the vines. You know, muddy boots and all."

Miles seethed. Where were Todd and Brandon when he'd taken over running this place eight years ago? Back then, Miles personally greeted the few customers that came between all of the jobs that had to be done. Miles even installed an intercom so the customers could buzz him while he was out working in the vines. After Jimmy started hanging around, they took turns minding the store. Before Miles took over, Jack Formby just wouldn't bother to open on the days he worked on the vines. People who found the place open before Miles' time tended to be the exception, not the rule. But posted and specific hours of operation was a standard Miles instituted immedlately, and he had conducted many a tasting wearing his work clothes. He felt it helped his credibility as a winemaker, and led to greater respect for their product. Not that Miles minded the hired help now – he could focus on the vines, and the wines – still, he thought there was a little something missing when the winemaker didn't get to explain his wines in person. Miles reluctantly admitted to himself that Brandon, although he could be lazy, was the best of the bunch at conducting a tasting. Jimmy had worked with him extensively and Brandon, unlike Todd, had spent one full season working in the vineyard, and spent time each year working on the wines themselves. Beyond that, Brandon was a born entertainer, and had a great sense of humor. In stark contrast to Todd's conservative appearance, Brandon wore his hair long, in a ponytail that extended halfway down his back, and favored bright, Hawaiian style shirts in the summer, and a cowboy look during the cooler months. He was flirtatious with everyone, female or male, and could entertain children while educating their parents about grape types, or how to pair food with wine. It was rare for anyone to leave one of Brandon Formby's tasting without buying a bottle or more of wine to drink there or to take home. When Brandon was asked to leave the state university after his sophomore year, Miles wasn't pleased at being saddled with him at the winery. At this point, however, Brandon Formby would be Miles' pick in a minute to replace him after he'd gone. Unless they would consider hiring Jimmy, but Miles was certain they'd want to keep things 'in the family.' And, Jimmy and Brandon got along well – their friendship had over time developed into something more serious - Jimmy would probably stay around to help if Brandon, not Todd, was in charge.

"You must realize, Miles, that your history becomes a concern, when anything is missing." Todd had watched Miles closely during his musings.

Miles pounded his fist on the desk. "Damn it, Todd. Think about it! I have more wine than I can probably drink in my life! Wine is the last thing I need. And, although I made it, I wouldn't steal that... crap that's missing. I know we have to produce what sells, but you and I know that I just don't care for that sweet stuff. Besides, I resent the hell out of your insinuation that I am, or ever have been, a thief!"

Todd retreated a little. "What about your girlfriend du jour? I seem to recall that our Niagara Creek is her favorite." Niagara Creek, a wine made from the sweet, native American Niagara grape, was the winery's best seller. Miles was continually improving the quality of the drier wines, but the sweetest wines, the types of wines long associated with the Midwestern, continued to be hugely popular. Miles sometimes thought he was fighting an uphill battle, trying to get people to learn to drink drier wines. But, he wouldn't stop trying, and little by little, the sales figures for the varietals like Chardonney, Cabernet Savignon, and, Miles' pet project, Cabernet Franc, were creeping up. It helped that the events at the winery – from wedding receptions to concerts to graduation parties, even the Saturday cook outs – continued to bring new and different people to visit Creek Valley. The winery had a great location - it was just less than an hour drive from the center of the state capital, but, except for the small town of Creekboro and the University the land all around was undeveloped, giving the winery a very remote and private feel. Increasingly, the crowds who visited for various events were fans of the dry California and European style wines Miles was trying to emulate.

"If you're asking if Kayla's a thief, I don't think so. Remember, she can't seem to find the strength to carry a case, let alone to steal 20 odd. Todd, we go through the books every month with Greg. What's strange is that we may be missing inventory, and the sales figures are off, but not by exactly the right amount. That's why I'm so convinced that the issue is somewhere in our record keeping. I sent a copy of our last six months data to our software company – to see if there is a flaw in the software or our entry process. I'm expecting to hear back from them any day. Until that time, I'll just try to keep daily track of all case sales on paper."

Todd seemed satisfied with this, or at least couldn't think of anything else to offer. But he wouldn't leave without a parting shot. 

"You know, you're right. As far as Ana goes, I mean. Greg is still her ex husband, for all his talk about them getting back together. Seems a shame not to get to know her better. I think I'll give her a call, follow up on my invitation to give her a private tasting and tour. You wouldn't happen to have Ms. Palmer's number, would you?" He drew out the 's' sound in 'Ms.'

"Sorry," Miles lied. "My contact is through Chester Van Meter." Miles knew that Todd Formby, married with 3 children, couldn't call Chester for Ana's number without feeling awkward. Todd stared at him. Miles was certain he knew he was lying, but couldn't prove it or press the matter. At least, not yet. Todd left, slamming the office door. Miles sat and looked at the weather forecast on the computer. Tomorrow would be another hot day. 

 Ana decided to go shopping on Friday morning. She had a late lunch date with Greg, but she wasn't to meet him until 2 o'clock. She looked in the yellow pages and decided to go to a large 'general store,' advertising a good selection of tools and gardening equipment as well as work boots and clothes.

Ana emerged from the store after an hour with several of what she considered major purchases – real work boots, a set of sharp hand clippers with a cushioned handle and a light brown work coat. Despite her months of severance pay and 'nest egg,' Ana was tight with her money since she no longer had regular employment. The last thing she wanted was to retreat to Greg merely for financial security. If their reunion was destined to work out, it would be because she wanted it to, not because she needed him. Something else was nagging at her now, the thought of a fair haired man with steely blue eyes.

Miles woke up early on Friday – 6 a.m. Jimmy was due to arrive at 7 and they were going to press yesterday's white grapes. Miles decided that he preferred the grapes with a little time 'on the skins,' after running through the crushed destemmer, so he allowed the crushed grapes to sit overnight. They loaded the grapes into the stainless steel bladder press and extracted the liquid. The press was another of Miles additions. He had replaced an old fashioned wooden basket press which operated by means of a crank handle and a series of wood blocks to created the pressing action. The basket press was extremely slow and difficult to run, it had a small capacity and required great physical effort. The bladder press, which essentially inflated a large inner tube to press the juice from the grapes was not only more efficient, but far less labor intensive, since the machine itself did the work. 

After the pressing, Miles poured 5 gallon batches into plastic containers for the pickers. He marked the containers, making certain there were two for CVM – Chester Van Meter, one representing his picking and one for Ana's. Miles thought for a minute about how she had looked out in the vines – her slim figure crawling under the thick leaves to reach the bunches of grapes, extracting herself, with her hair disheveled with the elusive bunches of grapes – and then he thought of the telephone numbers left in his pants pocket.

With a shock, Miles realized that he had put the muddy work pants in with the rest of the winery's dirty laundry. It was picked up weekly and taken to a cleaner in the city. Worse, Miles remembered seeing the truck that morning. He started to blame Todd – after all, if Todd hadn't been in his office, he wouldn't have stuffed the card in his pocket - but, Miles still felt bad about lying to Todd. I should have given him her number, he thought. She had enough sense to see through him. Still, Miles felt better for preventing, at least delaying, Todd's access to Ana. He decided that losing Ana's telephone number was a sign of sorts – telling him that he had no business trying to pursue her. What would he do if something did work out? What if she was attracted to him, and started to develop feelings for him? Miles was already finding her regularly invading his thoughts. What good would a relationship do either of them, with his present situation?

Jimmy and Miles finished the pressing in the early afternoon. Jimmy planned to spend the afternoon at the winery – he and Brandon were trying out a new video game Jimmy bought. They had a small television hidden under the counter for any lulls in business during the day. Miles was going to go through the vines that afternoon and test everything left with a refractometer – which would give him an indication of ripeness. At this time of the year, with many of the grapes already picked, Miles did this with increasing frequency. The goal was to pick the grapes at maximum ripeness before a frost, or before a rainy period. Days like today, hot and sunny for October, provided a real temptation, but Miles wanted to wait as long as he could. 

As Miles walked outside, Kayla stopped him. She had changed from her usual jeans and winery golf shirt to white shorts and a white tank top. She was wearing white sandals with a high heel. Kayla tried to look taller than her five feet, and rarely wore flat shoes. Her choice of generally impractical footwear also contributed to her reluctance to lift or carry. The white outfit fit her tightly and left nothing to the imagination.

"Hello, Miles," she said.

"Kayla," he said nodding, glanced at her, and walked on by.

"Hey, Miles, what if I take you to lunch?"

"Kayla, " he turned to face her. "I don't think we should see each other anymore." Miles was not known for his tact. But, Kayla wasn't surprised by this, Miles had been hinting at it for a couple of weeks now, being 'too busy' to go out with her, and he was downright nasty yesterday over that case business. Further, Kayla had seen Miles with Ana through the winery windows yesterday. And, she'd seen how he kept watching her, even when they weren't speaking to one another. Kayla asked around until she found out who this woman was. 

She was relieved to find out from Jimmy that this woman was the ex wife of that gorgeous attorney Todd met with. She also quizzed Brandon, who told her that the attorney was trying to get back together with his ex wife. But, even if they didn't work things out, Kayla couldn't imagine a successful woman like that going out with Miles, not matter how fascinated he might be with her. Not that Miles wasn't intelligent or handsome – he certainly was both – but he wasn't a suit wearing type like Greg Romano, either. 

Kayla didn't show any Immediate reaction to Miles words. She was not one to give up, especially if she had competition. She had begun to suspect that the famed Miles 'reputation' was not entirely true. After all, he was the first man who'd ever turned her down flat! She was increasingly determined to see what kind of a lover Miles was. The girlfriend / boyfriend talk didn't matter to her in the least, at this point she just wanted to see if he was worth the bother. She considered her words carefully.

"Miles, I absolutely agree. After all, I will be going away to school sometime." In fact, Kayla had been threatening to go away to school for six months now. Miles was past he point of believing she actually would.

"But, I've got this gift certificate for 'Novo Madrid,' and I don't want it to go to waste. You'd appreciate lunch there as much as anyone I know."

'Novo Madrid' was a trendy, neo-Spanish style restaurant in the capital city's newly revitalized warehouse district. Novo Madrid was known as a great place to see and be seen, especially in the nice weather. The lunchtime seating was outside on a deck overlooking the river.

Miles thought for a minute. An 'al fresco' lunch, a little white wine, a girl who was undeniably a knock out, maybe that would clear his mind of thoughts of Ana Palmer. It was worth a try. "OK. But I need a quick shower. Give me 15 minutes. This is just lunch, right? No strings attached." 

Kayla smiled. "See you in fifteen!"

Kayla had added a see through white blouse which, if anything, made her outfit more, not less, obvious. The waiter was staring at her chest while he recited the specials. Miles was mildly annoyed, he enjoyed attractive, attention-getting women, but he considered Kayla's taste a little too obvious. He would have preferred to see her dress more simply. Her appearance - long blond hair, blue eyes made more dazzling by colored contacts, and well curved figure - would call attention to itself even in less revealing clothing. 

Novo Madrid's menu was varied and eclectic. . The chef was Malaysian, most of the dishes were European, and many of the seasonings were American. The wine list was likewise varied, Miles ordered a half bottle of California Chardonney and downed most of it himself before they ordered lunch – he opting for sea bass with a cayenne and butter sauce, and Kayla deciding on angel hair pasta with a procuitto crème sauce.. After some discussion with Kayla – Miles offered to pay for the wine over and above the gift certificate, and she accepted – he followed the split of Chardonney with a whole bottle of a Domaine Tempier Bandol Rose. Miles paced himself, drinking this exquisite wine far more slowly. Kayla took a taste, then made a face.

"I don't like this at all," she said. Miles tried to explain to Kayla that rose, or blush wines weren't required to be sweet.

She shook her head, her hair swinging. "Not my style." She called to the water and ordered a glass of cranberry juice. To Miles' dismay, added it to her wine, pronouncing it 'much better!' 

Miles was restless, he picked at his food as he looked up and around. Kayla was not much for conversation – once you got past clothes, hair, and nails, she didn't have much to offer. They made some small talk about movies and music, but mostly sat quietly watching with some interest as people arrived. Kayla drew a lot of stares, and she enjoyed the attention. Most of the restaurant's patrons were attractive and well dressed. And, it was the kind of beautiful Friday afternoon that made people want to linger over the outside lunch rather than sitting inside at work. As Miles looked toward the entrance, he saw with a start some familiar figures. Greg Romano and Ana Palmer were following the hostess into the patio area of Madrid. Miles and Kayla were seated in an ideal spot – in the rear corner on the other side from the kitchen entrance – where they had a view of every table and every new entrance. Kayla saw Miles eyes and followed them.

"Oh, boy. Here comes Ms. Palmer, oh my!" She emphasized the 's' just as Todd had. Miles was amazed at the speed with which the winery 'grapevine,' so to speak, operated. Apparently the entire encounter in his office with Ana and Todd was common knowledge. Of course, both Todd and Brandon were notorious gossips. Miles always suspected that the two brothers, the elder at least, had done much to embellish his 'reputation.'

Miles looked back at her. "Say what you will, that lady worked her butt off yesterday. I'd like to see you go out there and keep up with her!"

Kayla pouted slightly. People told her that the pout was cute, so she kept working on it. "Seriously, Miles, I want to be just like her someday. A successful executive level female, great job, great car, great clothes, any man I want." She leaned closer and showed him a real pout. "But Miles, baby, I would still just want you!" Kayla was getting uncomfortably close, leaning away from her chair and toward Miles. He felt hot, the wine and the spice in the food were having an impact. Miles wished that he could escape without Ana's notice.

"Kayla, please, give me enough room to breath." Thankfully, she retreated back to her seat. Miles looked back toward Greg and Ana. They were just being led to their table. She was wearing a light beige sundress, consisting of a halter top and swinging full fabric bottom. Below the dress he could see strappy high heeled beige sandals at the ends of shapely bare legs. She was not as well endowed as Kayla, but she was well proportioned and a good 5 or six inches taller. He caught his breath, thinking she was one of the most attractive women he had ever seen. Ana seemed to feel the gaze, and her eyes found Miles. She registered slight surprise, then her glance shifted to Kayla. She coolly nodded an acknowledgement then looked away. Could there have been some jealousy in her look, Miles wondered. At this thought, he felt a mixture of pleasure and disappointment – pleasure that she might be interested in him, and disappointment that she was seeing him with someone else. Greg saw the pair as well, and started to motion Ana toward Miles and Kayla, but Ana took his hand and whispered something in his ear. He waved, then they went to their table without stopping.

Miles had even more difficulty eating after their arrival. He sent the food away half finished. He lost his taste for the wine as well. He managed to get through two glasses, and, with the aid of her cranberry juice, Kayla drank a little more, but half the bottle was still there. Miles wouldn't let the waiter take the unfinished wine, he asked for the bill and stared at the bottle. If he tried to gulp it down, he'd would be too intoxicated to work, plus it would be a waste of the wine. And, he was trying to find some excuse to greet Ana and Greg, to let her know, if possible that he wasn't interested in Kayla. And, he had lost her telephone number – maybe he could ask her for it again. 

With a sudden inspiration, Miles left the money for the bill beyond the gift certificate, included a generous tip, stuck a cork in the bottle, and, holding Kayla's arm, started toward the exit, carrying the wine. 




In the Vineyard Ch. 02



"You can't leave with that," she said.

"I'm not leaving," Miles replied. To Kayla's annoyance, he came to a stop at Greg and Ana's table.

Ana had been shocked to see Miles at this kind of restaurant, favored by the professional downtown crowd. She almost didn't recognize him – his hair combed back, the beard neatly trimmed, and he was wearing an off white linen sport coat, khaki slacks, a light colored dress shirt and closed toed dress sandals. This was a version of Miles she could take to visit her parents at the lake house. She noticed immediately that he was with the young woman from the winery. She felt something - it couldn't be jealousy, could it? She remembered over hearing Miles tell Jimmy that he was dating someone. 

When Greg suggested that they say 'hi,' Ana had a feeling of panic. She was afraid that to get close to Miles while Greg was with her. And, strangely, she was sorry that Miles saw her with Greg. She would have preferred that he think of her as single. 

She had to say something, or Greg would go right over there. 

"Un, no, Greg, lets not disturb them, leave them their privacy." Greg agreed and they ordered lunch. 

They were drinking iced tea. Greg had to meet with clients after lunch, and Ana didn't see any wine she liked available by the glass. She noted that one of her favorites was on the list – and was quite surprised when Miles stopped, holding his unfinished bottle. She flushed a little, seeing him stand so close. His eyes were watching her, intent and curious.

"We couldn't finish this, and I couldn't stand to see them throw it out. Or, I suspect that the wait staff just mix together all of what's leftover and make what they called in my day 'Hairy Buffalo.' May I pour you a glass?"

Ana decided that Miles was slightly drunk. He walked and stood just fine, but there was something a little more relaxed in his manner than she'd seen before. Even yesterday, when he was tasting wine, he limited himself to very small amounts and stayed focused on the work at hand, not allowing himself even the indulgence of sitting down during lunch. Ana smiled and thanked Miles, and Greg nodded. Miles took empty wine glasses off the clean table next to theirs. He poured glasses for each of them, and poured what was left into a glass for himself. He was trying unsuccessfully not to stare at Ana, but couldn't take his eyes off her. She had one side of her wavy hair held up with a comb. She wore a necklace of irregularly shaped pearls, and earrings made from the same pearls dangling from a gold loop. She was wearing a very subtle amount of scent – Miles wouldn't have described it as a perfume, or a cologne – it was a fragrance that seemed to eminate from inside of Ana.

Miles couldn't have been more thankful when Kayla excused herself to go to the ladies room. He was sipping the wine slowly, trying to decide which Ana was more attractive – the clean-faced, blue jean wearing vineyard worker, or this, the polished, make up wearing vision in the flowing beige dress. He decided that he liked them both.

A high pitched version of Beethovan's Fifth erupted – Greg's cell phone was ringing. He looked it – and apologized.

"I've got to take this call. Excuse me." One of Greg's admirable qualities was his limited and polite use of the many gadgets he possessed. Greg didn't like to be tied to the cell phone, and generally turned if off if he was at a restaurant or someone's house. This particular afternoon, he was expecting a call, and had forewarned Ana. He stood and walked to a corner of the restaurant seating area and sat on the edge of a potted plant. When Ana saw him extracting his palm organizer, she knew this would be a several minute call. She looked up at Miles, relieved that they were at least briefly alone..

Miles was beginning to feel like some force was working to lead him toward, not away from Ana – after losing her telephone number, here he was, face to face, and, at least for a minute, alone with this beautiful woman. He wanted to touch her, to make certain she was real, and was there. He sipped some more of the wine. 

"Greg really won't want any," Ana said. "He doesn't when he's working. He hasn't taken a drink." She divided the contents of Greg's glass between hers and Miles.' "I love this wine, don't' you? They sell it by the glass at the bookstore near my condo. I go there sometimes on weekends to get a glass." she asked. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as they looked up at him.

"Yes, I like it a lot, too. Its also a great choice with a lot of the food here."

"What did you have?"

"The sea bass."

"How was it? I like spicy, but not too spicy."

"It was spicy."

"But not too?" They both laughed, realizing how silly their conversation sounded. Ana thought, he feels just as awkward as I do, and she found this side of him as appealing as she found his self confidence at the winery. Miles began to think that Ana was not that unattainable, after all. She might be one of the most beautiful women he'd ever met, but she wasn't overflowing with ego, she was showing him a relaxed nature he found pleasing.

Ana started to feel a glow from the wine. Miles looked up and saw Kayla making her way back. Its now or never, he told himself.

"I dried off your shirt. The stain is 99% gone, but if you look hard, you can still see it. I hope it wasn't anything special."

"Of course it wasn't. Otherwise I wouldn't have worn it there. Uncle Chester warned me that there were lots of opportunities to get dirty when you pick grapes."

"I don't mind the dirt. For me, its much better than sitting inside an office all day."

She nodded. "I can see that. It was a really good day for me, a real change from what I'm used to. And, I thought I'd be tired or sore, but I really felt energized. I am a little sore in the shoulders, though." Miles wanted to rub her shoulders - her arms were thin but shapely, and she had a light tan across her back, largely exposed by the sun dress. 

"You know, if you want to come by and pick up your shirt, there's a wine I'd really like for you to try. We're just about to release it, a vintage from 3 years ago, and I always open one just to check. " Kayla was getting nearer, and Greg seemed to be wrapping up the call, he was putting the palm organizer away. "How about tomorrow evening, say 8 or so? I'm kept a little busy with the cookout, but the final seating will be eating by then, so I'm usually done for the night." 

Ana thought, then nodded. After all, this wasn't a date, this was picking up her shirt and agreeing to offer her opinion on wine. She'd be in her own car, in a public place, she couldn't see any problem with this. She said, "I'll see you then. You can call me if anything changes." 

"Actually, I misplaced your number. But, I don't expect anything to come up between now and then. You can leave a message for me at the winery if anything comes up on your side."

Kayla had intercepted Greg and was complementing him on his silk tie. It featured a tropical bird motif. They walked to the table, Greg sat and Ana said, "We knew you wouldn't enjoy the wine, so we finished it for you." 

Greg laughed. "I can see now why I divorced you." Greg was in his usuall good mood, he rarely got angry at anyone. He was well liked and well respected by his clients, and known for his integrity. Ana never stopped liking, even admiring him, she was just uncertain if she ever had been, or ever would be in love with him. 

"How's the wine this year, Miles?"

"So far, so good. If the frosts hold off, we'll have big reds this year. But, we might see a cold night next week. The reds are close, but not quite where I want them to be, so I'm still waiting. Your friend there was a real inspiration to my picking crew yesterday."

Greg looked at Ana. "Yes, she can be an inspiration, that I'll grant you." Ana smiled back at Greg appreciately, and Miles was glad to see that she didn't have the same light in he eyes he'd seen when they were alone. 

Greg's people skills were well-honed. He knew enough not to ignore the other beautiful woman in the group. "Kayla, isn't that your jeep out front?"

She smiled at him and nodded. She had used her ladies room break to freshen up her lipstick, bright pink in color.

"You know, I used to have one of those. When I was in college. I really miss it on a day like this. I bet its fun. And it helps you keep that great tan!"

Kayla, who had been feeling left out by the attention focused on Ana, was now glowing. Greg Romano was such a hunk, and he rarely spoke to her at the winery. Her fascination with Miles aside, she would have given about anything to go out on a date with Greg. She smiled sweetly at him and assured him that the jeep was fun to drive. 

"I'll take you for a ride, anytime you like," Kayla added. Greg thanked her and said, "Maybe next time I'm out at the winery. I'll try to remember to bring some casual clothes."

During the exchange, Miles was looking at Greg. In addition to the bright silk tie, Greg was wearing a crisp white dress shirt, a double breasted suit, grey with subtle thin red stripes, and black Italian leather shoes. Miles could see himself, many years ago, looking very much the same. Looking at Greg was like looking at a mirror into his own past. If there had been an Ana Palmer back then, how much easier things would have been! He would have fit neatly into her world and she would have been comfortable in his. Oh well, no use thinking about what might have been.....besides, she and Greg were happily married then. She wouldn't have been available at all.

Kayla was getting anxious – they did have nearly an hour drive back although it was still a beautiful afternoon. They said their farewells and walked out to her jeep. Miles insisted she drive – he had driven the jeep there – but he felt he had too much to drink and too little to eat. Kayla would have normally been difficult about this, but she was still floating from Greg's attention. Miles himself wanted to sit back in the jeep, enjoy the fresh air, and visualize spending a whole evening alone with Ana Palmer.

"Why do you do those things?" Ana asked Greg after Kayla and Miles left.

"What things?"

"Flirting with that poor girl like that. You're leading her on, and she's just a kid."

"First of all, maybe I'm not leading her on. What's the harm in going for a ride with her in her car? If it was a nice day, and I was in the right mood, I think it would be fun. Secondly, she may chronologically be only 22 or so, but she's no kid. I have overheard that young woman saying things that make me blush! Thirdly, she's getting dumped by the winery Adonis there, so she can use a little bit of ego boosting."

"How do you know she's getting dumped? Weren't they just having a date?"

"Ana, believe me, I know these things. There is a certain pattern, and these young women stop interesting him after awhile. You saw them over there – he was having more conversation with the wine than he was with that young woman. And, you saw how she was dressed – that didn't make him look at her any more. Nope, I'd say that Kayla is on the way out. Or, has outlived her usefulness."

"That's another thing. How come I didn't know that you know those people. The Formbys. And Miles, too."

"I don't tell you who all of my clients are. I didn't know that you were going out there with Uncle Chester until after you'd been. Believe me, I would have given you the scoop on the place. But, Todd Formby called me last night. He didn't come out and say it, but he has the hots for you!"

"Isn't he married?"

"And has three beautiful daughters. Doesn't matter. For what its worth, I think he's harmless. More the wine and dine type than trying to get you into bed. He has a thing for beautiful women. His wife is actually very pretty, a former beauty queen, but he doesn't seem to be satisfied with what he has. Damn shame, too. He's got money, a nice house, a beautiful family, and he takes it all for granted."

"The Formbys didn't make their money from the winery, did they?"

"Oh, no. The winery was Jack's post retirement investment. He was in the banking business. The family owned a bank for years, but Jack sold to a conglomerate when he retired. He set the kids up, essentially for life, and started the winery as a hobby. It barely paid its own expenses before Miles took over. You know, of course, to watch out for him."

"I've heard all about it."

Greg raised his eyebrows. "You have?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes, of course. Uncle Chester told me."

"Chester knew?"

"Apparently everybody does. Its common knowledge there."

"Wait a minute. What exactly are you talking about?"

"That he, you know, can't keep his thing in his pants. No woman is safe."

Greg was relieved. "Oh, that. Well, there is that."

"What were you talking about then? You know something else."

"Never mind. Forget I said anything. Listen to what Chester said. Just stay clear of him."

Ana was glad Greg hadn't heard her accept the invitation to the winery. But she was dying to know what he knew about Miles. Could it be something about Miles' mysterious past? Maybe he was a criminal, like Uncle Chester said. But, just because someone was once a criminal didn't mean that they were always going to be bad. And, everyone agreed, Miles did a great job managing the winery and making it profitable. No – it was something else – Ana considered herself a good judge of people. That was why she was so successful at sales. Miles projected intelligence, perfectionism and integrity – she couldn't imagine him ever lying, stealing or cheating. But, maybe her personal feelings were clouding her judgment. She had thought at first that the attraction was physical. But now, she was convinced that was only a part of it. She'd been drawn to Miles' focus while he was working. All he thought about, or talked about was wine and winemaking. As Greg said, even today at lunch, Miles was more interested in the wine than his date. She couldn't help glancing over at him after they were seated, and what she saw was mostly his scrutiny of the wine list. And then, today, alone with her, he reminded her of college boys asking her out for a first date. For someone so experienced with women, Miles acted almost intimidated by Ana. 

After their lunch, Greg went off to his appointment. 

"I'll call you later tonight. Can we do dinner tomorrow?"

Ana thought quickly. "I promised Veronica I'd watch Alicia." Veronica was one of Ana's former co-workers who had a four-year-old daughter. Ana had promised to baby sit, but it was Sunday, not Saturday. But, she hadn't exactly lied to Greg – she hadn't said which night. 

"How about lunch, then?" 

Ana agreed – Greg would be happy not to be put off, and it would give her a good excuse to give to her parents for not coming to the lake house this weekend.

As Ana expected, her mother was pleased that she was going to see Greg and didn't mind Ana's decision not to come that weekend. Ana frankly thought that her parents put too much pressure on her to stay with them. They moved into their lake house in May, and stayed as long as the weather stayed nice, usually until mid or late October. Uncle Chester came up most weekends – he and her father enjoyed fishing. They also played a round of golf most weekends, and ended their days eating fresh fish cooked on the grill. When Ana was there, she spent her time laying on the beach if it was nice. She also liked to take the ferry to the islands. She didn't mind sitting at a beach front café with a glass of wine by herself at sunset. Most of her former girlfriends, like Veronica, were mothers now, so it was difficult to find anyone who could take off for the weekend with Ana. She invited Greg sometimes – her parents house had ample spare bedrooms, plus a fold out couch, a couple of cots and some air mattresses in case there was ever a big crowd. Although she and Greg were dating, they were not intimate. She insisted that they start over, as if the marriage and divorce had never happened, and he agreed to play by her rules. 

Greg called Saturday morning. He was going to play tennis and asked her to meet him at his country club for lunch. She knew how to dress – long, walking length shorts and a golf shirt. She found it funny that golf or tennis clothes were more common, and acceptable, at the country club, than a dress or skirt would be. What would Greg think of her in her work coat and boots? He never cared for her in jeans. But, Miles hadn't minded. He seemed to find her equally attractive in work clothes or dressed up. She had a mental picture of Miles muddy rubber boots, and then visualized Greg in his tennis whites. If Greg ever worked outside, she thought, he'd had heavy starch on his flannel shirts. The thought of this made her laugh a little.

Greg noticed that Ana was distracted during lunch. She made excuses, and said she was beginning to feel directionless without her work. A week ago that would have been true, but right now, she wasn't missing her job at all. Greg was as polite and upbeat as ever, but Ana was beginning to know that being near him had never given her the thrill that being around Miles did. She was comfortable with Greg, and always had been, he was easy to be around. But, just thinking about Miles made her heart quicken. She tried to convince herself that Miles was more attractive to her because he was less available – but she knew that wasn't true. Miles had shown interest in her – he'd asked her to come back and press the grapes on Friday, and when she hadn't he found still another reason to invite her out. But, what if she was making too much of this? He hadn't asked her for a date, had he? Maybe he truly just wanted her to taste some wine, then he'd spend the night with Kayla, or maybe some other winery worker. Ana was relieved when Greg told her had had plans to go visit some friends for the rest of the day, so they didn't linger over lunch. 

After Ana got home, she started going through her closets. What to wear tonight? Not the ugly country club uniform – she wanted something feminine, a dress, but not too dressed up. She settled on a long red cotton print dress, with spaghetti straps that crossed over a bare back. Ana liked bare backed dresses when she had a tan – her summer bronze faded but she still had a light glow. Unlike many fair or redheaded people, Ana tanned evenly, and freckled only a little on her cheeks. Her mother was fair and didn't tan, turning pink in the sun, but her father had dark hair, eyes, and skin that turned dark brown in the sun. Ana didn't get as dark as her father, but, even with judicious use of sunscreen she developed a deep golden tan up at the lake. She added a pair of red slip on sandles with a wedge heel, and, decided to wear her blue denim jacket for the evening air, and so she didn't look too dressed up. 

With a shock, she looked at the time – she'd been lost in wardrobe planning and it was nearly 6 o'clock. She fixed herself a small cup of instant coffee – she didn't want to get drowsy during the drive – and drew a bath. One of Ana's favorite things in life was a bath – she far preferred them to showers, and she had a custom when she traveled of taking a bath as soon as she could after arriving at her destination. She also liked to bathe before going out in the evening, it helped her clear her mind. Ana targeted 7 o'clock as her departure, she didn't want to be early but it was easily an hour drive from her part of town.

She arrived at the winery a few minutes after 8. The place was almost unrecognizable compared to the last time she'd been here, Thursday afternoon. The parking lot was full, cars spilled into the grass beyond the lot. She was fortunate that someone was leaving a space in about the middle of the lot, and she pulled into it. The shelter houses were full, and she could smell the wood fire. The sound of a singer with an acoustic guitar flowed from the ampitheatre area, and there were people on blankets, on lawn chairs, and generally milling about the place. Some people were lingering in the shelter houses, but the cookouts were in the clean up stage, the grill fire mostly extinguished. Ana didn't see Miles outside anywhere, and went into the winery to ask. There were stairs or a ramp leading up to the main entrance. As Ana walked in, she saw Miles behind a long bar – wearing a clean white button down shirt and dark blue jeans. In front of him were seated a good dozen people – he appeared to be conducting a tasting of the winery's offerings. She could see how excited he was – he poured a small taste, and waited until everyone tried the wine – then he launched into an in depth discussion about the grape or grapes, the specifics of how each wine was made, and recommendations for food pairings. He always offered a second sample to anyone who wanted one. 




In the Vineyard Ch. 02



Ana started to walk around. Even though it was open, she hadn't looked inside the winery building the other day. There were displays of the wines and of awards they'd won at a variety of competitions, there were other knick nacks for sale, and there were three long bar areas around the room. A staircase between two of the bar areas went up half a level, and she could see long wooden tables and chairs. The walls at the higher level were made of glass, and you could see the stage out one side and just the night sky and trees out the other. The side wall opposite the staircase was entirely glass and led to a deck area which was built on top of the lower level and sat some 15 feet above the sloping ground. The tables on the deck were filled with people. She saw a few other people working, but thankfully no sign of Kayla. 

Ana looked back at the tasting party, and this time Miles spotted her. He motioned her over to an empty chair at one end of the bar. Without missing a word of his presentation, he pulled down a glass from an overhead rack and poured Ana a tasted of the wine they were sampling. It was white, cool and crisp. It had a flavor reminiscent of fruit – maybe peaches. Miles was doing a second pass with the bottle, pouring another sample for several of the people. He came back to Ana and spoke to her softly.

"We're nearly done. Only 3 more to go. This group got here just before 8, and Brandon has been doing this all day, so I said I'd take this one so he could take a break and get some food. I hope this isn't a problem, I know this is a long drive for you."

Ana said, "Of course not. I didn't have any particular plans this evening."

He smiled and said, "Good." 

Ana enjoyed watching Miles talk about his wines. They had worked up to his favorites – his Chardonney, Cabernet Savignon and Cabernet Franc. The wine she'd just tasted was a blend of French hybrid grapes – she didn't know the grape names, but the wine itself was called Creek Valley Lake White, suggesting that it was meant to accompany seafood.

Miles poured the last of the tastings, answered some questions from the group, and introduced one of the winery workers to assist the group with any sales. He came around the bar, and sat on a stool next to Ana. He was smiling broadly.

"Hi," he said. He was much more sober than he'd been yesterday afternoon, but he was a little flushed. "I'm glad to see you. It was lucky, running into you yesterday. I was upset that I lost your number."

"Remind me to write it down for you again before I go."

"You're not in a hurry, I hope?" he asked, a little concerned.

"No, I didn't mean to sound like that."

"Great. Let me take you back to my place." Ana remembered that Todd had mentioned 'living quarters' but she couldn't imagine where they might be.

Miles led her out the door of the winery, down the front steps and back around to where they had worked before. There were also tables and chairs on the lower deck where the pickers had congregated the other day. Ana was surprised at the number of people and said so.

"Usual Saturday for us," Miles replied. They reached the garage door and Miles opened it with an electronic opener, closing it when they got inside. They went through the long room, to a small door at the other end, and past his office. At the end of the corridor was another door. Miles unlocked it and they were facing a second door, a couple of feet in front – this one was wooden. He opened it and they stepped into a room.

Ana didn't know what to expect of Miles' 'place.' It was as big, if not bigger, than her condo although the layout was different. It was built almost like an A-Frame, with a curved staircase leading to an open loft area. The loft ceiling had a gentle peak, not quite as drastic as an "A," had several skylights. One whole wall was also glass – it faced away from the winery toward a wooded area. Vertical blinds could be drawn to close it off. The main floor was divided into two areas – a kitchen, bounded by an arc shaped counter, and a living area – with a soft black leather couch, two chairs and an coffee table, consisting of portions of cut wine barrels topped with glass. On one wall was a stone fireplace. A white bearskin rug lay on the hardwood floor. In the loft area, Ana could see a bed, not neatly made, and a series of wooden boxes. Miles opened a tall narrow black laquar cabinet in the corner of the living area and turned on some soft classical music. She could see that the cabinet housed a small television and a portable computer, as well as a miniature stereo. 

The computer was on and Miles clicked on something. She walked up to see him was looking at the weather forecast. 

"Staying warm a few more days," he said. "Good." He looked around. "What do you think of Chez Moi?"

"Its very nice," she said. It was, in a sparse way. It was obviously very clean, there was no clutter for dirt or dust to gather on. 

"I haven't really done much, its just a place to sleep. And eat, sometimes. This used to be Jack's house –when he built the winery. He moved out when he couldn't handle the stairs, and he offered to me when I started managing the place. There really isn't anyplace close to here to live other than Creekboro. And, I'm a little too old to be living on a college campus. Plus I need to keep a close eye on things most days of the year. It's very peaceful here most of the time. Except on Saturdays when the weather is nice. Like tonight." 

Miles walked toward the kitchen area. He took down two wine glasses from a rack over the sink. "I thought we'd have a taste of this, then maybe go out to Creekboro for a quick bite. If you're up for it, that is."

"Sure, I haven't eaten since lunch." So, it was a date, after all. She wondered what she was expected to do, in return for dinner. Maybe she should offer to pay for her own meal. She was warm, and took off the denim jacket.

Miles was opening some wine. He looked up to see her standing there, in the revealing red dress. He fought an impulse to put the wine down and caress her delicate shoulders. Don't move too fast, he told himself. He finished opening the wine.

"This is my three year old, oak aged Cabernet Franc. It was a great year, and I'm excited to see what it tastes like after being in the bottle."

"Do you taste the wines often? I mean, while you make them."

"Absolutely. I draw off a taste regularly, to see how they're changing. With the wines in 50 gallon oak barrels, like this, I'm checking to see how much oak flavor they have. I'm also trying different oaks. I've mostly used American oak, but I'm trying some Slovenian oak now. French oak is out of our budget, according to Todd. This one was aged in American oak – white oak from the Midwest, local in fact." Miles was glad that she asked about the wine – it helped take his mind off the desire to touch her.

He poured the glasses half full. Miles picked up the glass and looked at the wine from all angles, the sides, top and bottom. Ana picked up her glass – she could see the clear ring around the top, the 'legs.' The odor was a combination of things – dark fruit like plums, even a light smell of an unlit cigar. 

"I smell something like cigar. Is that the oak?"

He sniffed. "Yes." He took a small tasted and rolled it around in his mouth. Ana had not realized until then how sensuous an experience tasting wine could be. She enjoyed tasting different wines, and drank fine wines slowly, but usually with the same goal in mind – achieving that semi-relaxed state that the wine helped create. She hadn't even had a drop yet, and she was already reeling. Perhaps being near Miles was contributing to her intoxication. She stood close to him, but she wanted to touch him. She had wanted to touch him ever since the wine spill – to see if she would feel the same sensation. 

Miles took another, slightly larger drink. "I'm satisfied," he said. "But not blown away. I do think its got years to go to reach its peak."

Ana took a taste. The wine was wonderful – better than many high priced bottles of red wine she'd had in her life. To think that this man could make something like this. And, make it here, not in Europe or California. Ana could see now what he found so exciting. That sometimes it turned out like this.

"You should be proud. That is a very impressive wine."

"One thing you'll learn – especially with reds – if the grapes are good, the winemakers job is simple – just don't screw it up!" He laughed, and she did, too. She sat her glass down and noticed him looking at her. He decided he could wait no longer. Her nearness was irresistible. But, he didn't want to be too aggressive, to frighten her. 

Without a word, he took her hand. He lifted it to his mouth and kissed the back of it, slowly and seductively. Ana couldn't remember anyone in her life ever doing something like that. He lowered her hand, still holding it. "I hope you didn't mind." His voice was soft. "I've wanted to do that for a while. You seem like such a princess to me. I only wish I was more of a prince these days."

Ana couldn't think of anything to say. Remember, she told herself, this is Miles, who chews up women and spits them out. But, something about him was so natural, so sincere. And, the feeling of his mouth on her hand, it was like nothing she had ever experienced.

Miles looked up at a clock on the wall. He was suddenly a little awkward. "We should go before it gets too late." He walked out of the kitchen, then up the stairs. He came back down wearing a black leather jacket and holding car keys.

"I didn't think you'd want to ride in my pickup. So I borrowed Brandon's car. He's here until at least midnight, so he doesn't need it. He left the top down, but I think it's a little cold for that now."

They went out a different door, one that led directly outside. Miles led her around the corner to a small gravel parking lot, apparently employee parking. She saw full sized red truck – it was several years old but immaculately clean. Miles' instincts were right – Ana would have had a difficult time stepping up into the truck in a dress and heels. Beside the truck was a small electric blue Japanese convertible. Miles opened the door for her and closed it behind her. He turned the key and lowered the top, latching it down. The stereo blasted loud music, and Miles made a face and turned it off. "You can tune the radio, or put in a cd if you like. I doubt seriously if Brandon has anything worth listening to."

"No, the quiet is fine," she said. "Miles..?" She was suddenly nervous. She couldn't remember the last time she had been alone with a man other than Greg. She felt suddenly vulnerable, and frightened. The kiss on the hand was nice, but what if he demanded far more? What would she do? Or say. No, she decided, better to clear the air right away.

He looked at her. The car was running but he hadn't backed out. "What is it?"

Ana tried to gather her thoughts. 

"What is all of this about? I mean, I hate to ask, but what do you expect? I thought you had a girlfriend." She added without thinking, "And you know I'm seeing Greg." 

Miles face tightened. "No, I don't have a girlfriend. And, no matter what you've heard, I am not the Cassanova of Creek Valley winery. I take young women out sometimes, just because I get tired of having only Jimmy and grape vines to talk to. But all of the rest, rumors and gossip." He turned the car off and looked back at her. "As far as what I expect, hell, I don't know. This is not a good time in my life to get involved with anyone seriously, let alone someone like you! I don't know if there ever will be a good time again. Things are complicated. I'm also planning soon to move on and start my own winery. That's another reason I live here – I save up everything I can. If I don't move on, believe me, Todd Formby will be moving me himself once his father passes away. And that's ok. I told Jack to leave the place to his kids. If he didn't, they'd just hound me, at least Todd would, and make my life miserable." He paused, trying to find the right words.

"Ana, you have been like a breathe of fresh air in my life. I haven't thought seriously about anything but wine for 8 years. If you had known me before, before..I came here, things might have been different. But, I can't go back. And, I honestly don't want to. I love what I do. I don't have any plan or expectation. All I know is that I can't stop thinking about you and I can't stop myself from hoping that you think about me." He looked away from her. "I know that you are still involved with your ex husband, but, frankly, if you're that serious, why did you accept my invitation?"

Why, indeed, Ana wondered. She didn't know how to respond to that question. She tried to change the subject, hoping Miles would forget that she had mentioned Greg. 

"Miles, you, and...others, keep talking about the past, and something that happened, or something you did, or something. What is it? Maybe I can help."

Miles shook his head. "Ana, I've never told anyone here what really happened. Some people think they know – they know part of the story, not the whole thing. And, I owe it to Jack Formby to leave the past behind, and forgotten. I promised him when I came here – that I wouldn't bring any of my problems along. I'm the only one who has to think about it. And, believe me I wish I didn't." He turned and leaned closer to her. He raised his arms and gently took her face in his hands. He looked at her very directly, as if he could see into her soul. She noticed he was trembling. "Ana, I will tell you this. If I ever do tell anyone, it will be someone like you. " He forced a smile. "Maybe I will tell you, someday." Miles paused, and dropped his hands. "I understand if you want to leave now." He looked away.

Ana felt tears well up – was he asking her, or telling her to go? He wasn't moving. She felt compelled to leave – after all, she felt like she had ruined a perfectly fine evening by her insistence on prying – prying into things that weren't really her concern. Miles was right – he had a right to his privacy. She hadn't told him very much at all about herself. And, there was still Greg. She had to decide what to do about Greg. It was obviously a huge mistake for her to have come here tonight.

"Miles, I'm sorry. It would be better if I just go." He didn't look back at her. 

She got out of the car, and walked across the parking lot to her car. She started it and drove down the road. Her face was still warm where he touched her. She remembered the kiss on the hand. Maybe what she was afraid of was her own desire for this man. She started to sob, she was so confused now. Ten minutes into the drive she realized that she'd forgotten her tee shirt. 

Miles went back into his house, cursing. Why did he lose it like that? It wasn't out of line for her to ask those things. He closed all of the blinds. He poured a himself a full glass, corked the wine and put it in the refrigerator. He looked at the second glass. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine Ana, but the only face he could conjure up was a different woman, from long ago. It seemed to him that she was laughing at him. How long did he have to suffer because of the past? The old frustration and hurt he had bottled up for years started to escape. He picked up the glass and hurled it against the stone fireplace. It shattered and fell to the floor in tiny shards.

When she awoke on Sunday, Ana felt drained. She called Veronica and tried to beg off babysitting. Instead, Veronica insisted she come over early so they could spend some time 'catching up.' 

Veronica Stone was one of the fastest talking people Ana had ever known. She chattered nonstop, changing subjects mid sentence, but never losing track. Her ability to do several things at once made her an excellent mother – she never missed a beat, asking Ana about her parents and Greg – at the same time preventing Alicia from ascending the stairs by herself. Veronica was fortunate enough to possess a shapely figure which had remained essentially the same during and after her pregnancy. She had been married to Chris since each was 18 – they were the longest term couple Ana knew. Veronica was one of Ana's first friends at work – she was the CEO's Administrative Assistant and knew everything that was going on. In fact, it was quite a credit to Veronica that she progressed that far. A product of a single parent household, she had been a school drop out at 15, a runaway at 16, and in a juvenile detention center when she was 17. It was there she met Chris. Chris, in contrast was from a normal middle class family, but he had been running with a bad crowd and was caught breaking into a warehouse. They found solutions to their youthful restlessness through one another. Each was released at 18, and they married soon afterward. Together they completed their high school educations, working whatever jobs they could find to make ends meet. Veronica went on to a vocational school and studied office skills. Upon completion of the program, she began working her way through the ranks in secretarial positions, eventually landing the position she'd had when she and Ana met. Veronica, or Vern as she was known, was a great help to Ana in the early days – giving her tips on how things actually got done – which Ana was certain contributed to her own success. Although Veronica went back to work after having Alicia – her mother was happy to act as babysitter – after the company closed, Veronica and Chris decided that she should become a 'stay at home' mom for the foreseeable future. 

After finishing his high school education, Chris' family insisted that he prove himself before being given a position in the family business. He worked for a few construction companies, starting with basic jobs and eventually learning finish carpentry. After his father and uncle were satisfied that Chris had outgrown his wild youth, and was well qualified, they welcomed him into their successful remodeling business. Chris worked long hours, but received generous time off benefits so the Stones went on several short trips each year, usually taking Alicia. Ana was only asked infrequently to baby sit, Chris' mother missed having Alicia fulltime and was glad to help whenever she was asked. However, this night was a family event and business event – the remodeling firm had exceeded their profit projections for the year early and they were celebrating. It was also rumored that Chris' father might be retiring soon, handing over control of the business to Chris. Seeing the Stones now, Ana often found it hard to believe the stories of their younger days, but Vern wasn't secretive or embarrassed about it. She often said that even mistakes could be valuable learning experiences. She was also proud of the fact that she'd avoided her own mother's mistake – pregnant at a young age and deserted by the father. Vern had been adament that she and Chris not start a family until they were absolutely ready, in their case, after they owned their own home and felt financially secure.

Veronica questioned Ana non stop about her life – adding comments here and there. "I just don't understand about you and Greg. You're not sleeping with him??? How can you stand to be around him and not want to do the nasty?" Veronica and Chris had an active sex life. She was always happy to share the details whether asked or not. "And, what is it that's upset you so much, now?" She turned to Alicia, who was coloring outside of the lines of her coloring book – making marks on the rug and the walls. "Now, honey, please don't do that. Make a pretty picture for Mommy." Back to Ana, "I could tell there was something really wrong. What time is it?" They were sitting in the kitchen and 

she looked at her microwave clock. "2 o'clock. That's late enough, and it is a Sunday." Veronica opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of margarita mix. She loaded it in the blender with some ice, and carefully measured out two shots from a bottle of Tequila. "We don't want them too strong," she told Ana. I still have to get ready to go out in a couple of hours." Veronica whirred the blender. 




In the Vineyard Ch. 03



The doorbell rang at a few minutes after seven on Monday morning. Ana rubbed her eyes, she was feeling some effect from the margaritas last night. When the Stones returned, they were still celebrating. As expected, Chris' father announced his retirement, and that, as of the beginning of next year, Chris would be in charge of the business. There were a few more pitchers of margaritas, then some coffee as Ana prepared to drive home. She didn't arrive home until after midnight. 

The bell rang again. Who could be here at this hour on a Monday?. "Greg, if that's you," she muttered, "I'm going to tell you once and for all, to get lost! For good!" She slept in an oversized man's undershirt. She pulled on a pair of cotton flannel plaid pants and slippers, looked in the mirror to make certain her face was clean, and trudged to the door.

"We missed you this weekend." It was Uncle Chester, dressed in work clothes. "It was beautiful! Your dad caught a nice steel eye, and we smoked it on the grill." He handed her a small bundle of aluminum foil. "I brought you back a piece."

"Uncle Chester, what are you doing here at this hour?"

"We're picking grapes. Miles called me last night. He said he lost your number. I tried to call, but no answer. I took the chance that you were just out for the night. And, I thought we could car pool today." It was true that Ana hadn't checked her voicemail. And, she had turned off her cell phone while she was at the Stones last night. It was still off this morning, sitting in the charger. She tried to sound casual.

"So, Miles asked you to call me? I didn't think I was that impressive."

"Oh, no, he said you were a great help! In fact, that's another reason I wanted to talk to you before I saw you there - he asked me a few questions and I'm afraid that he might be getting a little bit too interested in you. I just want to remind you to watch out for him."

"Uncle Chester, I don't think he's as bad as everyone says. Greg and I ran into him on Friday, at Madrid, and he was a nice and polite as possible." Ana was hopeful that Miles hadn't mentioned the encounter of Saturday night. 

"Really, he didn't mention that. Hey, kiddo, time to talk on the way. You'd better get ready."

Ana nodded. It seemed that Miles wanted to keep things between them secret. She wondered what his motives were - was he aware of Uncle Chester's concerns, or, were things, as she feared, over before they started. She went back into her bedroom and pulled off her sleep clothes. She called out to Chester. "Can you make a couple of cups of coffee? How cold is it out?"

"Already started the coffee. Its about 50 now, but supposed to be another hot day. You'll need a coat to start with, or at least a flannel shirt, but it'll be upper 60 to 70 by the time we're done. And, there's barely a cloud in the sky."

Ana dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, put on her new work coat and boots. Before she put the clippers in her pocket, she showed them to Uncle Chester. 

"I got a blister last time. These have soft handles." 

"Those are nice. Miles is going to think you're really serious now."

Ana poured coffee into a travel cup, added some half and half and turned off the coffee maker. Chester's black sport utility vehicle was parked next to her car. "I planned on driving. I hope you don't mind listening to public radio - I feel disconnected after a weekend at the lake. And, I've found that news doesn't really happen on the weekends - lots more happens on Mondays!"

"That's ok. I'm a news junkie, too. I don't listen to much music anymore, usually talk or books on tape." She climbed into the passenger seat. 

"You know, I don't admit it to most people, but I even listen to that 'Ask Someone's Mother' program. I know what people say about it, that its just exploitive and a version of voyeurism, but I think that the mother is really right on a lot of the time. Do you ever listen to it?" Chester asked. 

"No I don't really listen to it." Ana said. But some of my friends are regulars," she added quickly, so Chester wouldn't feel slighted. "I'll have to try it sometime."

"I'm going to miss it tonight, so if you listen, tell me about it. I'm going over to Howard's to help him work on some wine. He can't lift the five gallon bottles very well."

Chester drove quickly and a little aggressively. Ana was almost relieved when they arrived and parked, and she noted that Chester made much better time than she did. It was just after 8. They were nearly the first to arrive - there was one other vehicle in the parking lot. Ana could see Miles engaged in conversation with Jimmy - apparently he was early, for a change. She paused before getting out - she could have hidden in a crowd, as it was, she would be forced into some conversation, and she didn't know how awkward it would be.

To her relief, Miles acted as if nothing had occurred between last Thursday and today. He said "Hi," pleasantly enough, and went back to his conversation with Jimmy. From the traces Ana overheard, Miles and Jimmy were discussing Jack Formby's health. She remembered what Greg said - that Miles would likely be forced out once old Mr. Formby passed on.

Others started to arrive, alone or in pairs. Before long, about 15 men had assembled, and unlike before, Ana was no longer the only female, Howard's wife Margaret also came. She appeared close to Howard's age, and she shared his active appearance, although she admitted that neither of them were comfortable moving the full glass five gallon jugs that were used to age small quantities of wine. They were thankful for Chester's offer of help that evening. Margaret went out of her way to be kind to Ana, and Ana was grateful - it kept her from wondering what Miles was thinking. 

The group grabbed clippers from the shed and started toward the vines. When Ana didn't stop, Miles yelled to her. "Hey, didn't you forget something?"

Ana pulled the clippers from her pocket and waved them toward him. 

"Look at this," Miles said to the group in general. "Second time here, and she's a professional!" Ana looked back, but Miles wasn't mocking her, he returned her stare with a look of admiration. 

Miles was relieved when Ana showed up with Chester that morning. He made a point of asking about her when he called. He tried to get Chester to talk about Ana - he asked about her parents, and tried to work in some questions about her relationship with Greg. Chester didn't offer much, and Miles had dropped the subject, instead emphasizing how much help it had been to have Ana there. Now, if he could only get her alone for a minute, and try to explain. Or apologize. Or something. He couldn't get her out of his mind. He could kick himself for letting her get out of the car and leave the other night. Why hadn't he stop her? 

Ana caught Miles eyes on her a couple of times, but she tried to ignore it. What was his game, she wondered? He had asked Chester to bring her here, but he wasn't going out of his way to be friendly. She thought of trying to find an opportunity to talk to him again, alone, but she didn't know what she would say. At least this will be a day of good exercise, she thought as she went toward the vines with the others.

Ana picked as fast as she could. They were picking various red French hybrid grapes. Uncle Chester said that he had brought a bottle of last year's Chambourcin, one of the grapes they were picking. It was also one of Chester's favorite grapes for winemaking.

When they finally broke for lunch, at one twenty five, Ana excused herself. She walked around the corner of the building, took her cell phone out of her pocket, and called Veronica.

"Stone residence." Veronica answered on the third ring.

"Hey, Vern. I'm picking grapes again."

"With mysterious Miles???"

"Yes, but he's being sort of aloof. But not mean, or anything like. But not exactly friendly either. Anyway, I called to tell you I won't be home at 3. Better make it 4:30."

Ana had agreed before leaving last night to a 'girls get together' at her place today. Veronica was going to come, and promised to bring Mary Pringle, another former work mate who had left the company long before the closure. Mary had gone back to school to complete her education degree, and was in her first year of teaching high school English. Mary was also a confirmed single. She dated frequently, and usually had a steady, but refused to consider marriage. She continually said she was 'too young.' She was a few years younger than Vern and Ana, not quite 30.

"Well, Mary said she wouldn't make it until at least 4 anyway. School's out at 2:40, then she does a quick work out. So, 4:30, no prob. Don't give up kid! Oh, and give mysterious Miles a kiss for me!" Before Ana could respond, Veronica had hung up. Ana turned off her cell phone, and started back toward the picking group, already beginning their lunch. On the way, she saw Miles and Jimmy, heading back the other way, towards the door of his living area, she assumed. Jimmy waved, but this time Miles barely looked her way. He had tried to catch Ana as soon as the picking was done, but as he got close to her, he overheard her tell Chester she had go do something. Miles bet himself she had gone off to call Greg. Sure, enough, there she was she was holding her cell phone.

"She sure is cute," Jimmy said.

"Un huh," replied Miles.

"Whats with you? You're moody today."

"Just thinking about the grapes."

"I bet. Hey, I thought you were going to make a move over the weekend. What happened?"

Miles looked at him. "Honestly, nothing. It was a bad idea. And, I knew it. There's nothing I can offer to someone like that."

"Other than the charming, and, I might add, quite attractive, Miles Delong."

Miles looked at him narrowly. "You're not my type."

"Its OK, my interests lie elsewhere."

"With a certain hairy wine host, I assume." That Jimmy and Brandon were not just friends was common knowledge around the winery. In fact, Miles reflected, it was a wonder that there had never been a Miles and Jimmy rumour, to go along with the other rumors. Jimmy's sexual preferences were nothing like secret, although Brandon was more secretive. And, Jack Formby was

outspoken on the subject of anything he considered abnormal. He seemed to take Todd's infidelities in stride, while having little tolerance for Brandon, despite the fact that Brandon was more likely to forge long term, monogamous relationships. Miles thought this a shame - as far as Miles was concerned, people were people, and as long as they did their job, he didn't care what they did with their personal lives. 

"Do me a favor," Miles said. "Please don't ride me about Ms. Palmer."

"I'm sorry if I hit a nerve. Mr. Delong, I prescribe some aggressive treatment. Let me see, how does my calendar look." He thought for a minute. "Lets say this Thursday. You provide the place, and the cards, and I'll provide the rest of the poker party. I'll even get a stripper, if you want. A girl, I mean."

Miles frowned and shook his head at the suggestion.

"No, no stripper." 

"OK, just us guys. I can guarantee that you'll feel like shit the next day, but we'll erase any longings for a certain red head. Fair?"

Miles shook his outstretched hand. "You've got a deal. I'll even get some food together. As long as you do the prep work, master chef!" 

Ana returned for the lunch gathering and tasted a fair assortment of wines. Miles and Jimmy joined the crowd a few minutes later, carrying a couple of bottles each. Chester's Chambourcin he'd brought for the lunch was a fine wine, although the bottle Miles brought forth from the same vintage was slightly superior. The comparison sparked some discussion between the men, and Chester ended up writing down some notes based on Miles' suggestions

Ana kept an eye on her watch. She and Chester stayed to help with most of the crushing and de stemming, but, at 3, with about ten lugs left, they departed. Miles and Jimmy were between them doing most of the work, they seemed to be enjoying the physical work. 

In contrast to the white wine, Chester took his ten gallon's worth in crushed grapes. He had two food grade plastic trash cans to hold the grapes.

He would add yeast, and complete the fermentation at home. When it came time to press the red grapes, anywhere from 7 to 30 days later, depending on temperature and preference, Chester would either get a friend to come over with a small press, or rent one from a wine making supply store. Then they were transfer the freshly pressed wine into glass five gallon jugs, known as 'carboys.' With Jimmy's help, Chester sat the two cans in the rear of his vehicle, covering the tops with plastic trash bags to prevent any splashing. 

. Miles didn't seem to notice when walked away, although he waved as they drove by. Ana was thankful that Chester didn't speak too much on the way home - he realized that they were in time to hear the first hour of "Ask Someone's Mother," and he listened intently. Ana listened too, but it seemed like most of the advice handed out was common sense. A mother whose child's grades had gone down was advised to seek out a tutor; a teenage girl was advised to break up with her boyfriend who was pressuring her to have sex, and a grieving widow was given some directions to find a support group.

It was about 4 when they reached Ana's place. Ana thanked Chester, then rushed inside for a quick shower. She put on some loose slacks and a long button front blouse. She tied her still wet hair into a ponytail, and applied minimal makeup - blusher, powder and mascara. The doorbell rang promptly at 4:30 and Veronica and Mary were there.

Mary had long been one of Ana's favorite people. She was constantly laughing or finding things to laugh about. She had a youthful appearance, barely looking older than a student herself, and often dressed casually, favoring earth toned baggy slacks and loose tee shirts. She wore her naturally blond hair in tight curls that bounced as she spoke. It was hard to be around Mary and not be in a good mood. It was Veronica's wise suggestion that they get together with Mary after seeing Ana's mood the day before. She had arranged to leave Alicia with her grandmother, and Chris was working late. Mary had a few papers to grade that night, but she said she could stay for a while to catch up on girl talk.

Ana had decided earlier against more margaritas. She instead had a few bottles of French sparkling wine, and she'd taken a large bag of jumbo shrimp out of the freezer and placed it in the refrigerator last night. She rinsed the shrimp and arranged them around a bowl and placed them on her kitchen table. She also sliced an avacado and spooned out two types of cocktail sauce - regular and extra hot. Mary came bearing a loaf of fresh bread from her bread machine ("I set the time so it would be done right after school.") and Veronica brought a nice piece of Stilton cheese and a bowl of mixed olives. 

Ana opened the first bottle, and they toasted one another.

"So, what about this guy?" Mary asked. She was spreading the Stilton on her freshly made whole wheat bread. She topped it with a shrimp and bit into it. Veronica was fiddling with Ana's stereo. She moved the radio tuner, and turned the volume up.

"I found it," she said.

The wine was already going to Ana's head. The heat, she told herself, and working outside. Plus tasting the wine at lunch. "What did you find?" she asked Veronica. "Didn't she tell you about it?" Vern asked Mary.

Mary laughed. "That's why we're here. We're the 'rescue Ana before she does something stupid' group."

"Shhhhh," said Veronica. Somebody's mother was giving sage advice on the radio. "Ok. I finally have a reason to call."

Ana looked to see if she was serious. "Oooh, no. Not from my phone. They must have caller Id."

"Use my cell," said Mary.

"Wait a minute. No one is calling into some local radio show from my home," said Ana. "Here, have another glass of bubbly." Her friends obediently held out their glasses. Ana poured herself another, and took a piece of bread.

"I don't know why you won't go for this. Vern and I talked about this, and we think you should ask your mysterious man out yourself." Mary said.

"You've got to be kidding. One - I may be liberated, or whatever they call that nowadays, but I am not in the habit of asking men out on dates. Two - I don't think he would say yes, if I did ask. And, three - well, I'll come up with three later." Ana downed the second glass of sparkling wine and poured the rest of the bottle into her glass. She went back to the refrigerator for another, grabbing and biting into a shrimp as she went.

"You see," Veronica said, "That's why we need to call. Because we knew that you'd never listen to us. But if a real live radio personality tells you to ask this man out, what will you do?"

Ana came back to them, holding a towel and an unopened bottles of blanc de blancs. "How do you know that this radio person is for real? And, who really knows if she is someone's mother?"

Mary laughed. "Vern, she's got us there. I always assumed that she was some middle aged cross dressing man, or something."

Veronica took the newly opened bottle from Ana and poured a glass. She walked determinedly to the telephone, mounted on the kitchen wall. She punched in several numbers, hung up, and dialed again. "Yes," she said. She cupped her hand on the received. "I got through," she said to the others. "I got..." she moved her hand down. "Yes. Well, my friend has the problem, not me. Uh huh. Its this man, and she's afraid to ask him for a date.....Yes, she's right here... Uh, Francine. ..Yeah, I can do that." She covered the telephone receiver again. "Ana, they must speak with you. They said that they can't talk to a friend. That it doesn't work on the radio. And, we're coming up. Oh, and you're called Francine. I knew you wouldn't want to use your name." Someones' Mother was just advising a young female in the matter of kissing on a first date (As long as no tongue is involved, she said it would be ok), and the radio station went to commercials. Veronica held the phone out, and Ana shook her head. "Come on, Ana," she said. "I really got through." Ana stayed put and drained her glass. She poured another. 

"Please," said Veronica. Mary was beside Ana, patting her on the back. 

"Oh, ok," Ana said. "But, you guys owe me for this." She stepped up and took the phone. Veronica turned the radio down.

"They have a delay. We should listen in the other room."

"You guys can't dessert me," Ana pleaded. But, the two went into her bedroom. I can just hang up the phone, Ana thought. But, even Uncle Chester likes this program. Then she had a disturbing thought - what if Uncle Chester was listening? No, wait. He said he wouldn't be. What if Miles himself was listening? But, she couldn't picture Miles sitting in his living room, listening to a radio advice columnist. 

A voice came on the phone. "Francine, is that right?"

"Yes, this is she."

"Hi, Francine. I'm Claudette. I do the pre screening. I have written down that you like a man and you're afraid to ask him out. Are you married?"

"Of course not," Ana said, shocked.

"Sorry. I have a standard list of questions so we can prepare Someone's mother. How old are you?"

"Can I say thirty something?"

"That's fine. We just need to identify the minors who call. Let's see, no problems with children, I assume. Can you summarize the situation for me?"

Ana tried to tell Claudette something without using any specifics. She ended up describing Miles as a friend of a friend, and simply said that she'd hurt his feelings on their first date and didn't know how to ask for another chance. As she spoke the words, she was really embarrassed. She was nearly ready to say, ' never mind' when Claudette said " OK Francine, you're on."




In the Vineyard Ch. 03



Joanna Hollingsworth, AKA "Someone's Mother," had been working in radio for nearly 30 years. She had been an aspiring actress, but was her figure was generous during a time when thinner bodies were trendy. She was blessed, however, with a versatile voice that made her a natural for radio. She was outgoing and a devoted self promoter, always flashy and modern in her choice of clothing. In fact, she made it one of her projects to try to makeover her current assistant Claudette. Claudette favored black clothes, turtlenecks and stretch pants, wore thick lensed glasses. Her hair was cut in a severe ear length bob. Joanne was becoming resigned to the fact that she and Claudette simply belonged to different generations, each with its own philosophy of beauty. 

During her career, Joann had DJ'd progressive rock, R & B, contemporary Christian, and 'cool' jazz. She had names to go with the genres, from 'Jo Rock' to 'Josephine Cool.' She eventually became frustrated trying to keep up with continually changing formats, so she tried her hand at talk radio, starting with a call in program running after city council and school board meeting broadcasts. One night, after a heated council debate, the council president's wife called in, critical of her husband's performance. In the course of the conversation, she made startling disclosures - she and her husband were having marital problems, the kids had been in legal trouble, and she was about to check herself into a drug rehab center due to a dependence on painkillers. Joanna managed to encourage the rehab, give sound advice about the kids (put the younger in private school, tell the 18 year old to move on), and repair the marriage (it's the sex, honey). Joanna's response to that call convinced her, if not the radio bosses, that she'd found a format that was a success. And, more importantly, made her feel good. She shopped her idea to multiple stations before a sports oriented AM station agreed to put her on for a trial basis. Joanna came up with the "Someone's Mother" concept - she thought it sounded sincere, and she herself had been married and divorced 4 times, caring for multiple children and step children - here was a chance to share the experience, if not wisdom that she'd developed through the years. She soon found that most of her calls were straightforward, and her greatest challenge was in making her advice appear to have some variety. But, how many different answers are there to 'my boyfriend/ husband/ lover is being unfaithful, what should I do?' (the answers all started with the same substance, ' dump him,' the variation was in the style ' follow him to his girlfriends house and confront him there,' or ' pack your things and sneak out during the day when he's at work'). What Joanna really longed for was the chance to genuinely feel like she'd made a difference, like she had with the council president's wife. She sensed more and more that most people who called her already knew the answers to their problems. She wanted, more than anything to be responsible for someone finding real happiness.

Joanna looked at Claudettes notes about Ana. "Hello there, Francine. Nice name. I see you have man trouble."

Ana realized she was on the radio. She mumbled. "Un huh."

'What's that, speak up. I can't hear you."

Ana cleared her throat. "Yes."

"So, tell me about it. You went out with him, right, and its over. Like that. Kaput."

"Well, I'm not sure."

"So, I'm not doing this for my health. Tell me about it."

Ana started hesitantly at first. It was really just like talking to someone on the phone. "I met this really sharp looking guy. " She added, "Now, I am dating my ex husband."

"Wait a minute. So, you're divorced. And dating. Explain that to me."

Ana tried to make it sound logical. "Yes. My ex wants to get back with me. But then I met this other man."

"Sounds like you aren't that into your ex. After all, you did divorce him. Or, let him divorce you. And, why else would you date someone else?"

"That's right. So, I met this man, and he asked me to come over to his place. But, he didn't say it was a date...he had...another reason. A perfectly good reason, too."

"He didn't ask you to look at his etchings, did he?" Joanna laughed. "Don't tell me you fell for some line?"

"No, Not exactly. No. I had left something...there...near where he lives. So I went to pick it up. And then, when I got there, it turned out that he planned to go out, like a real date, but then I sort of blew it and asked him where this was all leading, and he sort of got uptight, and...I ended up leaving."

"Have you spoken to him since?"

"Yes, but not about that. He's just been sort of, you know, cool." Ana sipped at the sparkling wine nervously. She reached for the bottle and topped her glass off.

"Do I know cool? Yes, I do know cool. In fact, I am cool. But, back to you. Lets go back a few steps. Here are some mother questions I would ask my own daughter about any man. Does he have a job?"

"Oh, yes. And he's devoted it to it. In fact, he wants to start his own business."

"Wants to start a business, hmm. Is he attached?"

"Well, he was seeing someone, but he's not now."

"Long term?"

"No, just casual dating, I believe."

"So he's less attached than you. Considering the ex husband."

Ana agreed that, in essence, he was.

"Is he clean? I mean hygienic?"

"Well, I've seen him work outside. But the rest of the time, yes."

"Does he use foul language?"

"Only mildly."

"Now, Francine. Please don't get upset. I'm sure you're a nice girl. But, I have to ask - has he tried to, you know, take advantage of you?"

"Oh, no. He's been a perfect gentleman. He hasn't even tried to kiss me." She added, "Other than on the hand."

"So, let me understand this. This man, this GOOD LOOKING man who HAS A JOB, mind you, and WANTS TO START HIS OWN BUSINESS, and HASN'T TRIED TO GET INSIDE YOUR PANTS, or SKIRT if you prefer, and he KISSES YOU ON THE HAND, you've somehow made mad and you wonder if you should try to get him back. DO I NEED TO DRAW YOU A PICTURE?" Joanna always raised her voice when she was trying to make a point. "Tell me, exactly what did you do or say?"

"Well, I put some pressure on him about the future, and he got upset. He said it wasn't a good time for him to make a commitment."

"And, now that you look back, why do you think that was? And, by the way, do you think its normal to ask about commitment on the FIRST DATE?."

It sounded silly to Ana, put that way. "No. Maybe I pushed things a little bit. And, maybe it was worse because he wants to start his own business. He told me he has to save everything. I guess I put a little bit too much pressure on him"

"Just maybe the first date isn't quite the right time to start looking at the BIG PICTURE. So, maybe you scared him with your future talk. Maybe he thinks you expect a ring next week, or something."

"I certainly don't."

"Francine, tell me something. You know this man well enough to be calling me for help to work things out. Do you believe, in your heart of hearts, that he can start his own business and make it work? I mean work enough to support himself. And maybe someday a wife. Answer me honestly."

Ana didn't have to think long. Miles had already been a success - in turning around Creek Valley - and she was certain already that nothing would get in the way of his obsession with wine. "Oh, yes, absolutely."

"OK, Francine. Here's why that is so important. Because,if, in the greater someday, one day ,scheme of things, you end up with this man, this entraprenuer, his business will be your business. And, you'd better believe in it before you follow someone else's dream."

"Yes, I see that. You're right. That's pretty heavy. But, I do believe that he will make it. I'm not sure if this will get that serious, though"

"AHA," cackled Joanna, laughing. "You see - you're having the same reaction that he did. Do you see that? When I ask about the future, you say you're not sure yet. Don't you think that's normal, after ONLY ONE DATE?"

Ana agreed that it must be.

"OK, Francine. Good enough. Let's get you back on the right track. Lets think about this. You said he's saving his money. You don't happen to be the type who expects to be treated like a princess all of the time?"

She remembered that Miles had called her a princess. "Well, I'm not. But maybe people think I am."

"And, a man who's saving his money, he's probably just a little intimidated by that."

"Possibly."

"Can you ask him out? I mean, you pick him up, and you pay, you know? Or, at least you pay for yourself, you know. Go Dutch, they used to call it."

"I don't know how he'd take that. I wouldn't feel comfortable asking."

"Well, then here's my thought. Ask him over for dinner. You cook. That way, you can show him he's not obligated to take you out all of the time."

"That's a good idea. But, how do I make the first approach? I don't know what to say. I'm afraid he's mad at me."

"Here's some Mothers' wisdom - don't call. Send him a note, or better yet, a blank card with a nice picture. No email, no voicemail, give him something he can hold. Write something honest, you'll come up with the words, and extend your invitation. And, leave a number, but tell him to call back only if he CAN'T make it. That makes it easier for him to show than cancel. Even if he wants to end it, once and for all, if he's a gentleman, he'd rather show up than do it on the phone. Then, I know you can, Francine, you can dress just so, dim the lights, play soft music, make it so he realizes how crazy he is for you. Can you do that for me?"

"I can try," Ana said.

"Good luck," said Joanna. "Call me back later on to tell me how it went."

Ana hung up the phone. She didn't hear the editorializing Joanna added for the sake of the radio audience. "He has a JOB. And, is SAVING money. And, he KISSES her HAND, for gosh sakes. And, this woman is calling ME for advice. Oh, boy. I should be so lucky. Some people don't know a good thing... if it hits them on the HEAD." It was the top of the hour, time for a news update. Joanna took her head set off, looked over at Claudette and smiled. "We did a good job on that one, didn't we?" Claudette nodded. 

"Jo, when you're good, you're good," she said.

At the winery, Kayla turned the radio down as Miles walked in to the retail area. She hated to miss "Ask Somebody's Mother," even when she was at work. She was especially glad she had been listening, if that last caller was who she thought it was. 'Francine' sounded suspiciously familiar. And, although Kayla wasn't at the winery on Saturday, her friend Rita who worked during the cook outs was, and told her that a certain Ms. Palmer was seen, but departed quite abruptly. So, it stood to reason that she was calling about Miles. And, she did mention dating her ex husband. Who else could it be?

After Rita mentioned Ana, Kayla initially assumed that Ana came by Saturday to buy some wine - she didn't see how Miles could have made a move that quickly. After all, they'd see Ana on Friday, with gorgeous Greg! Maybe it happened when she went to the ladies' room - and she recalled that Greg was off taking a telephone call when she got back. She had to admit that was pretty slick on Miles' part. She was jealous - not as much over Ana herself as over the fact that Miles must have made a move that quickly. Kayla had done the pursuing in their case, and Miles went from disinterest to slight friendliness - he was usually a charming and well-mannered companion - and then he'd basically dumped her without any remorse. And now, he was back to being disinterested, as if they never had dated at all.

Kayla made a mental note to get the mail for the next few days. She didn't what she would do if something arrived addressed to Miles from Ana Palmer. But, she was dying to know if that had been Ana on the radio. 

Miles walked up. "Thank you for turning off that garbage. I can't see why anyone listens to that. That woman is so full of it!"

"You know, Miles, you're absolutely right!" Kayla smiled at him.

Jimmy switched off the radio as Brandon walked into the room. 

"What were you listening to?' Brandon asked.

"Oh, just some talk radio," Jimmy replied. He had a thoughtful look on his face.

"Something good?" Brandon asked.

"Good for someone else, maybe," Jimmy replied. He made a mental note to check the mail at the winery this week.

Ana downed another glass of sparkling wine. Her friends were jubilant - "See, we told you," said Mary. 

"But, sometimes you've got to hear it from a mother," Veronica added. "OK, now we have to write this note to mysterious Miles." She kept referring to him that way - she liked the sound of the M words.

"What do you mean we?" Ana retorted. "This isn't a group project."

"Oh, yes it is. Vern's right. Now that we've come this far, we're not going to let you screw it up. " Mary looked back at her. "If this Miles thing works out, would you care if I asked Greg for a date?" 

"Very funny."

"I wasn't kidding. God, he's so cute!"

Veronica interrupted the exchange. "Blank cards, do you keep blank cards? Or, some kind of note cards?"

"Not really." Ana said, hoping they would drop the subject.

"I know! How about computer graphics?" Mary walked over and switched the pc on.

"Leave it to the teacher," said Veronica.

Mary went through a file of software and found a title she liked. She rummaged through Ana's supplies and found a partial package of card paper and envelopes. Ana had often made custom thank you notes when she was working - she found that she increased her opportunities for another shot at a piece of business when she thanked someone for an unsuccessful try. "Ok, Ana. You are going to have to contribute something. What great words are you thinking of?"

"None of your business." But Ana walked over to watch as Mary turned the computer on.

Mary started to play with the designs she saw. She selected a graphic of a couple in sillhouette, seated at a table for two with wine glasses in their hands. There were candles on the table, and the moon and stars shone overhead. "How's this?"

Ana had to admit that it looked good. "Can you blur the outlines a little?" Mary complied, and then added a lavender tint to the whole picture. She moved on to the inside of the card.

"Vern, what do you think? You're better at this than me. I'm so used to being around teenagers at school. And, they are as far from romantic as possible."

Veronica thought. "Well, you don't just want to start with something about getting in his pants." She took a sip of champagne, and refilled her glass. Ana noticed that they were running out and opened another bottle.

"This should be simple. And honest. Ana?" Mary looked at her.

"Ok. How about. "Can we try this again? I have some wine I'd like you to taste." She interrupted herself - "That's what he asked me over for, the first time. "

"You can find me at - put in my address. I'll be waiting for you at 7 o'clock, this Friday. What's the date, use the actual date - the 17th? RSVP only with regrets. Then, write my number. Both numbers, use my cell. Too. I'll sign it and draw a little map inside the cover of the card."

"Sounds great," Mary said. Sappy, but great!" She tried a couple of different fonts, typed in the wording and paused to look at it. She loaded the paper and hit print. She backed to another screen, and pasted a smaller version of the card design on the flap of the envelope. She pasted Ana's address in the return address point, and asked Ana for the address of the winery. Ana stopped to think - she didn't know the address. 

"Phone book?" asked Vern.

"I don't know. It's not that close." Ana responded

"Guys!" said Mary with mock disgust. "Get into the twenty first century. They must have a web sight!" She signed on the internet and checked a search engine. She found the winery's web sight and clicked on the address. "Here we go," said Mary The home page opened. One of the links read 'Wines and Winemaker.' Mary clicked on it, and a picture of Miles materialized slowly. Ana drew closer - she hadn't even thought to look for a web sight. There he was, smiling, wearing a sleeveless tee shirt, this one wine colored, with his hair slightly longer than it was now, layers spilling onto his back, with the mustache but no beard. It was a shot from waist up, and Miles had his arms folded, the outlines of his muscles clearly defined. He had a sort of half smile, but his eyes were staring straight ahead, right into the camera's lens. On the page was a list and description of each of the wines offered, and a brief profile of the winemaker. It stated hat Miles Delong arrived 8 years ago, and had increased the numbers and types of grapes grown. Then followed a listing of awards, won at various competitions, and a couple of short quotes from Miles about improving the image of Midwestern America's wines. Ana couldn't take her eyes from the computer - the picture of Miles seemed to stare right through her. Mary and Veronica made some comments, Veronica's mostly sexual. They agreed that he was, in fact, worth chasing after. "I don't know, " Mary said. "He may be better looking than Greg. Different, anyway. And, look at those arms!" 

"I bet his other body parts are impressive, too," added Vern. Ana blushed, but enjoyed hearing her friends' compliment Miles looks. It was nice to know that someone was on her side, for a change, not full of warnings about the danger of getting involved with Miles. 

Mary finally remembered to copy the winery's address. She pasted it on the envelope and typed ATTN: Miles Delong, and, on the bottom corner, in large letters wrote "personal and confidential." She printed the envelope, and, just as she finished, a car horn honked outside. 

"It must be six. That's Chris," said Veronica. "Ana, sign this. We'll take it to the post office on our way home. Let's see, this is Monday. It should arrive Wednesday, no later than Thursday, for a Friday date, that's not enough time for him to really think about it. He'll be here. " She took the card from Ana and walked toward the door. "And, I want to see you with this guy sometime. No doubt, he is a hunk. But, I never would have guessed you would come up with a guy like that!"

Mary had planned to stay and eat dinner with Ana, a good idea given the champagne they'd consumed. Ana started to boil water, and cooked some fresh squash stuffed ravioli she had previously made and frozen. They ate the ravioli topped only with freshly grated romano cheese, and Mary pronounced it a feast. Ana made some expresso in her imported Italian machine, and they savored two cups each. At about 9, Mary announced that she had to return to finish her grading. She left, and Ana, exhausted, went to bed. The last thing she remembered was imagining the picture of Miles, only, this time, he was talking to her. "What is it you really want, Ms. Palmer?" he seemed to be asking her.



In the Vineyard Ch. 04



Ana woke early Tuesday morning. Last night was a little fuzzy - had she really called that radio program? And, she remembered the invitation to Miles. She wasn't certain now that was such a good idea. Maybe Veronica forgot to mail it. She'd call her after she had some coffee. 

Before she could call, the phone was ringing. "Hello," she said, hoping it was Veronica. 

"Hey, I hadn't heard from you since Saturday." It was Greg. "I just wondered how you were doing. How did your babysitting go?"

She remembered not to be too specific - babysitting was the excuse she'd used for Saturday. "Oh, it was fine. And, I had Veronica and Mary Pringle over last night. Sort of a girl's night in." She was hopeful that Greg didn't spend his time listening to Ask Someone's Mother.

It turned out that he hadn't. He said he'd had a business dinner last night. 

"What about tonight?" he asked her. "Dinner?" 

Ana wanted to agree, it seemed to be the easiest course of action. But, it somehow didn't seem quite fair. As if she was being unfaithful. Wait a minute, she told herself, you can't be unfaithful to a man you almost dated once, even if there is an invitation on its way in the mail. Yet, somehow, she just didn't feel right about going out with Greg tonight. 

"Can we make it tomorrow?" That would give her a whole day to get her thoughts straight. Or, to come up with a valid excuse not to go. It was only Tuesday, but she couldn't stop thinking about Friday. Preparations to make, wine to buy, cleaning to do, clothes to decide on...

Greg was amenable to her suggestion, and said he'd call back tomorrow.

He didn't even ask her why tonight was bad. That made her feel even worse - Greg was such a nice guy, and she wasn't able to be honest with him. She decided that she must tell Greg if Miles showed up on Friday and if things worked out. A part of her wanted to find a way for she and Miles to run away from everyone and everything. None of Uncle Chester's warnings, no problems with Todd Formby, no curious girlfriends, and, most of all, no Greg to face. She realized that she had never actually completely cut Greg off. She hadn't made the clean break that would allow each of them to go on with their own lives. She changed her mind and vowed to herself that she would do that, even if Miles didn't show up, or if things didn't work out. Certainly her feelings were an indication that she must have some time and space away from Greg, even if it only turned out to be temporary. After all, she thought, they might still end up together one day. Maybe her interest in Miles was a fling, like Greg's lovers during the marriage. At any rate, it was only fair to each of them. And, the sooner the better. Dinner tomorrow night presented the logical opportunity. Besides, if she didn't do this, what would she tell Miles if he asked her about Greg again? 

The rest of Tuesday and Wednesday flew by - after a quick telephone conversation in which Veronica verified that she had in fact mailed the card the night before, Ana planned and shopped, shopped and planned. You would think, she said to herself, that I was having a dinner party for 30 instead of wine for one. One man who might not even show. She even stopped worrying about how much things cost, and simply spent money. She bought new wineglasses - two each of several different shapes. She bought a new tablecloth - the old one had a big stain where a flower vase had once leaked. She bought a new, blue glass flower vase to replace the leaky one. She bought a pair of hand painted Italian small plates - along with the wine, she planned to have a few hors d'oervres, but no real meal. If things went well, she could always cook up something. She started shopping for wine - the truth was that she didn't have anything in mind when she told Mary to type on the card "I have some wine I want you to taste," so it had to be something really special. Unfortunately, other than one French rose, she didn't know that much about Miles' taste. She assumed he liked wines that were similar to the ones he made - big and bold red wines. So, she decided to find something different. She looked at all of the large wine stores in town - everyone assured her that they had just the right thing, but nothing jumped out at her. She finally gave up Wednesday afternoon, deciding that she could keep looking Thursday, even Friday during the day.

Greg showed up promptly at 7 on Wednesday evening. He was wearing a navy blue sportcoat, blue silk tee shirt, and grey light weight wool pants. Ana had chosen a dove grey slacks suit, with a lighter satin tank top under the jacket. She had matching grey shoes and handbag. She felt that the slacks gave her a little more of an authoritative air, something she wanted given what she had planned.

They dined at Bistro du Coin, an upscale French restaurant known for steaks and seafood. The restaurant's feature tonight was a chateaubriand for two, which they discussed, but Ana voted down. Somehow doesn't seem appropriate tonight, she was thinking. Greg was thinking the exact opposite, but didn't fight her. Instead, he ordered a pork dish and Ana ordered lamb chops. They drank a bottle of red wine from the Rhone region of France. Ana perused the wine list, looking for any help she might glean. She didn't see anything that looked unfamiliar.

As they finished the excellent main course, the waitress brought out dessert menus and a list of after dinner drinks. Greg was restless, Ana assumed he wanted to settle the bill and leave, but she hadn't gotten around to what she wanted to say. She ordered a glass of a Pear Eau di Vie. For courage, she thought. Greg considered it, and ordered one as well. Unknown to Ana, he also had something important on his mind. His 'business dinner' of Monday had been a meeting with Ana's father, who had come to the city from the lake house to pick up their mail. Ana's parents didn't like to have their mail forwarded for the summer, then changed back for the rest of the year, so they had it held at the post office and called for it every month or so. Greg called last week to see when Mr. Palmer's next trip was planned, and made an arrangement to meet. The purpose of the meeting was to ask Mr. Palmer for permission to ask Ana to re marry him. 

"We're going nowhere fast, as things stand." Greg had said. "I think, Stew (Ana's father was Stewart, Stew to his friends), that Ana is going to continue to flounder until she gets some stability in her life." Ana's parents and Greg shared for a long time a concern that Ana was too focused on the wrong things - job instead of husband, now, talking about getting another job instead of taking the time off to think about starting a family, before she got any older. Stew gave his blessing and swore to keep it to himself until Greg had a chance to ask. Armed with this, and the original engagement ring which Greg kept since Ana returned it during the divorce, Greg felt he was as ready as he'd ever be.

"I have something to say," Ana said.

"Me, too," he replied.

"Oh, well, you first."

"No, you first. You said so first."

"Really, you can be first."

"Ok." Greg said. He looked around to see if anyone was watching them. Then he slipped off the chair and began to kneel. Ana, with horror, began to realize what was going on. She almost leapt off her chair, and landed next to Greg. 

"Greg, please sit back down," she whispered to him. "Make it look like you've dropped something. Or, whatever. Just get back up."

Greg stared at her, but he sat back in the chair. She sat back down and regained her composure.

"I'm sorry. I had no idea. I should have said my piece first. Greg, its just not going anywhere. This isn't leading us to anything...."

He interrupted. "I know. That's what I think we need to take a serious step. And get engaged." 

"No, Greg, I don't want to get engaged. Let's face it, we've never really acted like we were divorced."

"You're right. That was the biggest mistake I ever made. Letting you go through with that." He shook his head. "I know, it was absolutely my fault. But, Ana, I've realized what a mistake I made. And, I won't ever, ever be unfaithful to you again." He smiled at her. "Ana, honey, you mean so much to me. And your parents, well, they're like my own family now."

She patted the back of his hand. "I'm sorry, but the answer is no. Greg, I want us to try really breaking up." Seeing the upset look on his face, she added, quickly "Its not that we won't or can't get back together someday. I just really need some space right now. Blame it on losing my job if you like, but it seems like my whole world has turned upside down."

"Ana, you need some stability now, more than ever. And stability is something I can offer."

She shook her head. "Greg, its not right. It's not the right thing for me, or for you, right now. I realize that, and you need to try to." She looked up at him. "Maybe we should start seeing other people."

"Is that what this is about? There's someone else? Is it Todd Formby?" Seeing her make a face, he added "What about that Miles Delong? You were pretty taken by him when we ran into him at Novo Madrid. I'm telling you, Ana, you're making a mistake. No one will ever care for you and put up with as much as I have, or will."

Ana was a little angered by Greg's remark about putting up with things. But, she kept her feeling in check. "Greg, I can tell you with complete sincerity that I am not at this moment seeing anyone else. But, I won't promise that I won't ever. Nor, would I ask you to. Please, do this one thing for me. If you really do care for me, please, lets take some time off."

Greg shook his head. He finished his drink, paid the bill and they left in silence. He didn't try to speak to her on the way home. He didn't say a word until Ana got up to get out of the car. 

"Ana." He grabbed her arm. "I will never stop caring for you. Please be careful."

She nodded. She realized as she walked into her condo that Greg had rarely used the word love in the course of their relationship. She wasn't surprised that he hadn't used it tonight.

After Monday's picking, Miles had a busy week planned. He was out Tuesday and part of Wednesday making deliveries to local stores. He spent Wednesday afternoon working on a mailing announcing the release of his 3 year old vintage Cabernet Franc. He also helped Scott, a parttime winery employee majoring in art at the university, put together a display of the wines. Scott piled up wooden wine boxes, and garnished them with artificial grapes of all colors. He wanted to hang some bottles to create a mobile of sorts, but Miles insisted he use empty ones. Miles recorked the one he had opened on Saturday, and then he labeled and corked a couple of empty Bordeaux style bottles. Scott had formed unique wire bottle holders and twisted around the bottom and led to a ring around the neck of the bottle. The holder had another ring, directed outward, which Scott rang metallic wire through. The wire was then attached to an old ornate brass hall tree, with the bottles hanging around. Scott was still fussing about the display when the mailman came in.

"Redecorating, I see," he said to Miles. Miles nodded. The mailman headed for the cash register, Kayla was standing behind the counter. She put her hand out for the mail, and he gave it to her. They exchanged a few sentences, then he left, waving at her. Kayla flipped through the mail as Miles approached. Scott was making him nervous, moving the full bottles as well as the empty ones around. 

"Anything important?" he asked Kayla.

"Not so far," she replied. She was trying to flip through it all before Miles came close. To Kayla's relief, Scott dropped something and Miles rushed over. The something turned out to be an empty wine box, but it gave Kayla the time she needed to finish going through the mail. She found what she was looking for, a large ivory colored envelope with 'A Palmer on the return address. And, it was addressed to the attention of Miles Delong, "personal and confidential." Kayla glanced up to see Miles still supervising Scott's work. She separated the mail as usual, trade journals and advertising in the 'later' pile and bills or other mail in envelopes in the 'read now' pile. She was afraid to actually take Ana's envelope, instead she hid it down near the bottom of the 'later' pile. Miles sometimes went for weeks without looking through those things, they laid in a stack in his office. She smiled at the thought of Ms. Palmer waiting in vain for Miles. That would be the end of that!

Miles headed back toward Kayla, confident that Scott's display was now safe. He picked up the 'read now' pile without a word to her and walked off, and out the front door of the winery. Outside, Jimmy was just pulling up in his car, a late model compact station wagon. He saw Miles and shouted, "Hey, buddy! Don't forget about tomorrow night!"

"Don't worry. I can work you in. My social calendar is empty these days, but for grapes."

"Speaking of, how are we coming."

"I hope to finish next week. If we pick 3, maybe 4 days. Then, its over!"

"How are they?"

"Should be as close to perfect as they can be. It's been dry enough since the end of the summer. And, no real cold spell."

"Good deal. Is my friend Brandon about?"

"I haven't seen him. You might check the stock room. Any word on Jack?" Jack Formby had become ill during the last week. He had stayed in his house, essentially bedridden, which was unusual during the picking season. He usually came by most frequently to watch picking and bottling. Brandon was his caretaker when he was ill, he made the daily drive to Jack's condo in Mount Union, about 30 miles away. Todd usually claimed to be 'too busy' at the winery.

"Jack? No change. You should go see him," Jimmy said.

"I will. This weekend. He usually doesn't let anything get him down this long."

"I'm afraid that its really bad, from what Brandon says. Worst of all, he's really depressed. Keeps talking about not being around much longer."

"I'll go see him," said Miles with determination. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Well, if I don't see you later, I'll see you tomorrow."

Miles nodded. He went back to his living space and looked over the mail. The place seemed really empty today. He thought for a minute that he should get a cat. Cats seemed to required little care, and offered something to talk to, when you were all alone. But it wasn't a cat he wanted. He thought again about a certain red haired female, and was really sorry he'd lost her phone number. He should have grabbed her when she was here on Monday, and apologized for being such an ass on Saturday. After all, she was only being normal - every woman he'd ever been out with asked him dozens of questions. And, she did have some justification - it must have appeared that he was out on a date with Kayla the day before. Miles shook his head. No, it just wasn't the right time for something like that. Besides, she was obviously still involved with Greg - they'd probably end up married again. Miles looked over to the fireplace where he'd flung the glass. He had gotten as far as sweeping the pieces into one central pile, but hadn't picked them up. They were still sitting there, a kind of reminder of how his life had broken apart those years ago. And, it was still in some ways, broken. Miles looked at the shards of glass one more time, and ambled up the stairs. He dumped the contents of a jug bottle on his bed and started to sort the change. He'd need it for tomorrow's poker game.

Miles spent Thursday testing the grapes, checking his fermenting white wines, and cleaning the place up for the poker party. Jimmy came early, and took over the kitchen to prepare food to munch on. Knowing Jimmy's preference for southwestern style foods, Miles had purchased ample fresh tomatoes, chiles, avacados and both corn and flour tortillas. In addition to homemade salsa, Jimmy mixed a guacamole sauce, and a very spicy pepper relish. He also made some sausage stuffed tortillas, and brought with him a crock pot of black bean soup. By the time Jimmy was finished with food prep, Miles had run the vacuum, and cleaned up the bathroom, which was located just beside the kitchen. He went upstairs to the loft and pulled the bedspread across the make the bed look made. He piled most of the wooden boxes unseen behind the bed.

"Place looks great, " Jimmy said.

"Food smells great," Miles replied. "Thanks for doing all of that. I'm not nearly as good at food as you are."

There was a knock on the door, and it was Brandon. He was carrying a case of wine Miles had requested from the winery. He put the case down, and went back out. He returned carrying two large bottles - one of British gin and one of Scotch Whisky. Miles looked at him in amazement. "Don't you know how bad that stuff is for you?"

Jimmy jumped in. "Miles, Miles. Your mood has not gone unnoticed. We've seen you positively mooning over a certain attractive red head. We are coming to your rescue - our vow, to make you forget all women! For tonight at least!"

Brandon smiled and opened the Scotch. He took some paper cups from the table and poured a rough, very large, shot in each. "Cheers," he said, smiling at Miles. Miles frowned, sniffed the Scotch, and downed it in a gulp. He put the cup back on the table.

"Hit me."

Brandon looked a t Jimmy. "The man knows what he wants." He poured another. Miles again gulped it down. 

"Better slow down," Jimmy said. "The others aren't even here yet."

Miles poured himself the next one. "You want to know the problem with women?" he said. He sipped the third shot slowly. "There are only two types. The ones who want sex, and the ones who want to own you. And," he said, taking another sip, "the ones I want to have sex with are of the latter type, the ones who want to own you. But, I don't want anyone to own me. Not right now, anyway."

Jimmy looked at him. "You're not making any sense."

"Damn right," Miles said, finishing the Scotch. "Can't drink this stuff," he continued. He rummaged through the box until he found a bottle of wine to his taste. He pulled his pocket knife out and pulled the cork. Picking up the paper cup, he frowned and put it down. He crossed to the kitchen and pulled down a wine glass. He poured a small glassful. Sniffing the glass, he said,

"You guys saw her. Do you think I'm crazy? She's beautiful, she's intelligent, she's a hard worker - did you see how hard she worked out here - and she's interested in wine. Who wouldn't fall for that?" Jimmy and Brandon laughed. "Present company excepted, " added Miles. "But, if you were me, I'm telling you, its like someone set me up, or something. Like if someone asked me to describe my ideal woman, it would be she. Or, her."

"Whichever." he added after a pause. He swirled the wine and stared at it. He took a small snip and sat the glass down, looking thoughtful. 

Brandon said, "Then, why don't you go after her? Or she. Whichever."

"Won't work. I tried. Remember, I was borrowing your car. You must have noticed I didn't put any miles on it. I doubt if she ever wants to see me again. I'm surprised she came out on Monday, but she acted like nothing happened. I'm sure she just wants to forget it all."

"So, try again," Brandon said, encouragingly. "What've you got to lose, if you think she's already lost. I know some other couples who took a few tries to get their signals straight." He looked at Jimmy and smiled.

"Thanks, guys, for the pep talk or whatever. Fact is, Ana Palmer is a lost cause as far as Miles Delong is concerned. Lost!"

At that point, more knocking on the door. They were joined by two of Jimmy's college buddies, Doug and Steve, but Miles was never did remember which was who. In a few minutes, a couple more classmates arrived. All of college friends, several years younger than Jimmy or Brandon, enthusiastically dug into the liquor, wine, and food. Within a half hour, the place was beginning to show some wear. Miles opened his safe upstairs and lit up a cigar, after offering everyone else one. He hadn't smoked for years. He puffed on it and thought about the last time he'd smoked. He had quit just after coming to the winery. The cigar suddenly tasted off, and he extinguished it.




In the Vineyard Ch. 04



They were finally getting around to cards, but Miles couldn't concentrate. He lost a few dollars quickly and took himself out of the game. He had nearly finished the bottle of wine by that time. One of Jimmy's friends presented a joint, and started to pass it around. Brandon and Jimmy each turned it down, saying they weren't interested. 

"Come on, Miles, " said the friend, goading him. "It'll make you feel better." And, Miles was starting to feel things spinning. He'd made the mistake of following up a several glasses of wine with another shot of Scotch, and been too preoccupied to eat nearly enough to counter the alcohol. So, he took the joint, trying to remember the last time he'd seen one of these - his own college years, likely. He puffed, and smelled the familiar perfume-like odor. It did settle things down, for a few minutes. Miles excused himself after a hand was dealt and went into the bathroom.

After about 20 minutes, Jimmy found Miles passed out on the floor of the bathroom, but couldn't get him to move. Finally, with the help of the others, he carried Miles upstairs and put him to bed. They resumed playing cards, Jimmy was down about twenty dollars and wanted to get it back. They played on into the early hours of the morning. At one point, shortly after 1 a.m., Miles came stumbling down the stairs, and went into the kitchen for a drink of water. On his way past the card game, he stopped for a minute and had another shot of Scotch. He stopped at the couch and laid down.

The card game broke up just after 4. Miles was sleeping soundly and snoring. Jimmy didn't disturb him, planning to come back later on Friday to help with the clean up. He cracked a window in the kitchen to draw some of the smoke and food odors, and quietly departed.

Miles woke with a throbbing headache. He looked at the clock. 7 o'clock. He went upstairs and got into bed. He had left this morning without plans, and it looked as though he would spend it trying to sleep.

Ana was considering her wine search on Thursday morning when the telephone rang. 

"Hello, " she said, expecting Greg.

"Ana, I'm worried about you." It was her mother. Nothing like subtle, Anna thought. 

"Hello, Mother. How are things?"

"Ana, Greg called your father this morning. He was quite upset."

"I'm sorry he bothered Daddy about it," she said, curtly. One thing she really couldn't stand was the fact that her parents seemed to continually be involved in anything to do with she and Greg. 

"Ana, he really loves you."

Ana thought for a minute before replying. "Mother, Greg and I need some space. We never really broke up. And it doesn't help matters that he involves you in our business. You're my parents, and I don't go running to you every time we have a disagreement. I really resent the fact that Greg does!" 

"Ana, honey, we're all concerned. We think you might need some help."

"Help with what?"

"Ana." Her mother paused. "We know you've been under a great deal of stress lately. Greg truly cares about you. And he seems to think, in your current state that you are vulnerable. He is especially concerned that you might get involved with a married man!"

Ana almost laughed out loud. Greg, scaring her parents with talk of Todd Formby. What a dirty trick. "Mother, I know who he's talking about, and believe me, there is no chance whatsoever of anything happening. I can't believe that Greg even suggested it!"

"Ana," her mother continued, "What about this Miles person? Greg says that he has a reputation for taking advantage of women."

"Greg, again, doesn't know what he's talking about. " Her parents really liked Greg. It was difficult to overcome that. Ana tried another tactic. "Mother, Greg is just upset because I told him I needed some space. He's just acting jealous."

"Ana, we think maybe that you should see someone."

It took a minute for this to sink in. Ana initially thought that her mother meant that she should date. But she began to suspect another meaning.

"What, you mean a professional? A therapist?"

"Well, honey, you can't deny that you are a little...edgy these days. We think it might be for the best. Of course, if money is a concern, your father and I will gladly help out. And Greg knows someone..."

That was it for Ana. "Mother, I'm not crazy. Or going crazy. Please, please don't just take everything Greg Romano says as gospel. I just want some breathing space." She tried to think of a way to resolve her parents' worry easily. "Mother, I'm not ruling out the thought of Greg and I getting back together. I just wasn't ready to get engaged last night. I would like to explore my career options and start to feel better about myself first."

"But honey, with Greg, you don't need to work. He wants to start a family." Ana could hear the tension lessening in her mother's voice. Her approach was working.

"Mother, can't you understand? I wouldn't feel good about myself if I agreed to let Greg take care of me at this point. I need it to be my choice, not a desperation thing."

"Well, Ana, maybe you know best right now. We'll see you tomorrow, right?"

Again a dilemma. "I'm sorry, Mother, I can't. I made some plans with my girlfriends to do something Saturday night. I can't let them down." Not exactly a lie, she thought, but she still felt bad. "But, maybe I'll come up on Sunday."

"We'd love to see you, darling. Please take care. And call me, one way or another, on Sunday."

"I will."

"Ana." Her mother's voice sounded different. "Ana, I think I understand. How you feel about Greg, I mean. We just want the best for you, honey. If you need to take your time, you should. You have the rest of your life to be an old married lady." Ana's mother laughed at this. "But, remember, honey. Its not such a bad thing to have a good and successful man." Ana's father had always done well in business. While they weren't exactly wealthy, the Palmers didn't ever lack anything. They had nice cars, nice homes, nice vacations, and Ana's parents paid for her education at a private college. "Maybe we pushed you too hard with Greg, in the early years. Maybe you need to sow your wild oats, so to speak. " Her mother paused. This was obviously difficult for her. "if you feel that you must, please be careful. These Prince Charming types aren't always what they seem. And, remember, Greg will always be there, in the end. Just, please be discreet. He would be crushed if he knew.

Ana almost laughed out loud. Her mother was giving her permission to have an affair, as long as it didn't impact her relationship with Greg. 

"I'll see you soon, mother. Don't worry about me. I'll do the right thing."

"Bye, honey. Your father and I love you very much."

"I love you, too." Ana put down the phone and sighed with relief. That wasn't quite as bad as she'd feared. The phone rang again and she hesitated before answering.

"Hello."

"What's up?" It was Veronica.

"Oh, not much. Other than the fact that Greg Romano tried to propose to me last night, and when I said no, he went running to my parents."

Veronica sounded surprised. "Oh, my god! What did you say to him? What reason did you give him? Does he know about you and Miles?"

"Vern, at this point there is no 'me and Miles.' So, no, I didn't tell him anything other than that I need some space. And I told my mother the same thing. I just can't believe that he has to involve my parents in everything!"

"Well, the reason I called is to see if you're getting it all together for Friday. Do you need any help? Is everything going OK?"

"Other than finding the spectacular bottle of wine, everything's just great."

"Can't help you there, we're pretty much margarita drinkers, here. Wait, in fact we do have some old black raspberry wine that Chris' father made. But take my word for it, you won't impress anyone with that!"

Veronica's good humor was contagious. Ana started to feel more relaxed. "I'm sure I'll get it together."

"Mary and I can't wait for details. How early on Saturday can you call?"

"I'll let you know," Ana promised. Take it as a good sign if you hear from me later, not earlier. 

Ana was unsuccessful again searching for the special wine on Thursday. She awoke Friday with a new reserve - no call had come from Miles to cancel the date, so she expected him. She started with the business telephone directory, and jotted down the places she hadn't been to yet listed under wine or carryout.

After making her list of about 8 places, she dressed and set out. Everything else was ready, the condo was spotless, new table cloth and other new things in place. She had to admit that the new things, minor though they were, provided a definite improvement - she was almost sorry that she had taken so little interest in the place before. 

She struck out with the first two places. The first was completely closed, and the second had paired down its wine offerings to about 25 bottle of the usual grocery store stock. The next place had a fair selection, and she was almost convinced to buy an Italian Amarone that the proprietor said was a very good year and very hard to find. The place after that had stopped carrying wine altogether - they said they sold far more beer and it wasn't worth the bother. She pulled up to the next place on her list. She took a look, and almost turned around without entering. The place was an former residence, converted to a business. The name had changed from the telephone book listing. It also had a hand lettered sign which stated 'Under New Ownership.' Other handmade signs promised 'Local Pottery,' 'Used Books,' and 'Ask about our custom made quilts.' Hardly a wine store, but, sure enough, beneath the 'Used Books' was a sign stating 'Rare and Unique Wines.' Oh, well, she thought, what is there to lose?

She walked onto a porch and through a screen door with an 'Open' sign. She didn't see anyone at first, then an older gentleman, with wisps of white hair sticking out under the beret on his head and wearing small wire-rimmed glasses, stood up from behind a glass counter. He was wearing a cardigan sweater and a dress shirt and tie, all obviously from another era. He looked at her quizzically, then said, as if he'd been rehearsing it all morning, "How may I help you?"

"Wines? I'm looking for some wine?"

"A unique and special bottle, I presume."

"Yes, that's exactly it."

He came around the counter to the front. "Please, Ma'am. Follow me." She thought about saying 'Ms' but silenced herself before anything came out. He led her through a doorway to the next room back. On bookcases were bottles and bottles of wine, all dust covered. She picked up the first bottle to catch her eye, and was surprised to see that it was more than 30 years old. She glanced around at other vintages, and found similarly old wines. "This is wonderful. I had no idea you had all of these old wines here. But, what should I choose?"

He crossed his eyes and scratched his head lightly. "You must tell me something about what you want it for. Who, when, where, and the like."

"Well, its for a man. But, not just any man. This man knows a lot about wine, he makes it."

"Hmmmm." He looked thoughtful. "What kind of wine does he make?"

"Well, all sorts. Red, white...."

He interrupted her, shaking his head.. "No, that isn't what I mean. Does he make good wine? Does he make wine with care? Or, does he just make wine to make money from it?"

Ana hadn't said anything about the winery - how did this man know to ask about making money? There were certainly far more hobbyists and amateurs than there were wineries around here. Maybe it was just a lucky guess. She thought about his questions.

"I would say some of each, but more than anything, he tries to make the best wine he can. And, he's always trying to make it even better."

"Then, he might appreciate something produced by hand, in very small quantity a long time ago, made with a great deal of love." He stated this as if there was no answer to it.

"That sounds wonderful. But how much...?"

"I won't ask you to purchase it on my word. I have a small quantity, and I happen to have a bottle I opened last night and didn't finish. I have so few friends to share with these days...." He looked a little forlorn. "It will have faded some, but you'll get the idea. " He looked at her conspiratorially and whispered. "I don't have an actual tasting license, so I will pour you some in a china cup. I can trust you." Again, a statement, not a question. "Please wait here for a minute."

He went back into the front room and she heard the sound of feet on stairs. She remembered that there had been a wooden stairway in the corner of the room. He must live here. But, how strange. The sign said 'Under New Ownership,' but the place looked as if it had been exactly the same for years and years. And, the man seemed to belong here as well. But, maybe she was finally going to get lucky with the wine.

A soft pad back down the stairs and the man carrying a half full bottle of wine with a cork in the top. And, what a bottle! It was light green glass, and had design etched into it, around the top and the bottom. The label was practically worn or rotted off, she could see only a letter here and there, no recognizable words. It had the look of being kept in a dark and damp place for quite a long while. 

The man opened up a glass fronted piece of furniture and extracted a china cup. He paused before closing the front and extracted a second. "I'm sorry you won't be able to see it in a proper glass. It practically dances in a glass." He looked suddenly concerned. "You do have decent wine glasses, don't you?" Ana assured him that she had just purchased lead free crystal glasses - the import store recommended them because the lead could be hazardous. The man chuckled a little, she got the feeling that he didn't think much of the lead concern, but he simply said, "Good."

He poured a small splash in the cup. "Just smell. Then roll it around in your mouth. Then I will pour another small swallow. It is quite potent, it hasn't lost that with age."

"How old is if? I can't read the bottle."

"Taste. Then we'll talk."

Ana sniffed. What an odor! But she couldn't place it. Flower, fruit, herb, all bright things - it occurred to her that it was the odor of a sunny spring day - when the world is coming back to life. She took the taste, and the initial sensation was that it was slightly too cold. She swirled it in her mouth and it warmed up. She could taste a golden light sweetness, but not like sugar or honey, or like wine made from one of the sweeter grapes. It was fuller bodied than that - with just a hint of citrus flavor. She instantly wanted to drink more, but slowly. 

The man was watching her. He poured slightly more into her now empty cup. He had poured himself nearly a full cup, and was savoring one taste at a time. That taste! What was it? It was like nothing in the world. She drank it slowly - it couldn't have been more than a couple of ounces, and found that he was right. She was beginning to feel giddy. She saw the man look at her, and smile.

"Yes, that's exactly what I want. How much is it, and what on earth is it?"

He looked at her with concern. "This man, is he the right one? No other man?"

She had the distinct impression that he knew everything about her, knew about Greg, knew about Miles. She chastised herself for being paranoid. Just a nice old man in a strange store.

Strangely, she felt the need to be completely honest. 

"I can't be certain. I mean, something feels right, or different, or something. I can't stop thinking about him, but I don't know what he thinks of me. He might not even show up," she added, although not hearing from Miles made her more and more certain that he would be there tonight.

"All right then, twenty dollars. Plus tax."

Ana couldn't believe her ears. "You must be mistaken. This is obviously very rare, and very old."

"I'll give you a bottle in better shape. As far as what it is, I can tell you very little. I came upon a case of these many years ago. There are three bottles left - some I drank, some I gave away, just a few I sold. As I said, it was made with love. You and your friend are clever - you can figure out the rest."

He pulled out a wooden box sitting beside one of the bookcases of wine. In it were three full bottles. He lifted each in turn, looking at the amount of evaporation and the condition of the label. He settled on one. 

"When is this for?"

"Tonight."

"Tonight! But you should have come sooner. What's to be done?" He was getting agitated. He poked around and found a bottle sized cardboard box. He wrapped the bottle in layers of paper, and stuffed the box with more paper. He fitted the bottle in carefully, and taped the box shut. "Here," he said handing it to her. "You must take it home immediately, but go very slowly. And sit the bottle in a very safe place, so it doesn't move much. On the seat of your car, perhaps. You might wrap the seatbelt around it." He added some directions for chilling the wine. Ana sat the bottle down and opened her purse. She extracted a twenty and a one. She picked up the box.

"Thank you so much. I don't know what I would have done."

"Drink it carefully. It will give you wisdom, and not foolishness as so many wines do now. Your friend will like it." He seemed certain.

He opened the door and she went outside. She put the bottle carefully on the passenger seat, and wrapped the shoulder harness around it to keep it steady. The old man watched.

"I will give you your change when you come back. I owe you thirty five cents." 

Ana laughed. "Don't' worry about that. You've done me so much of a favor today."

"I will return it. We must attempt to keep all things even and fair."

Ana waved, started the car, and drove home very slowly. She stayed off the interstate and took a series of back roads. Several cars become impatient in following her, and passed her. She normally would have been annoyed, but she was too concerned about her precious cargo to care. When she pulled into her parking space, she breathed a sigh of relief. She carried the bottle inside, and unwrapped it carefully. The man had advised that she refrigerate it on its side for only a couple of hours, so she left it laying in the box. Three -thirty, and she needed to decide what to wear. She ate a container of yogurt and went into the bedroom and started pulling through her closet.

Miles slept in fits - the headache was lessening, and his stomach had gone from queasy to settled down. But a series of vision-like dreams kept him from relaxing. Ana seemed to appear whenever he closed his eyes. "So much for helping me forget about her," he grunted to no one. After one particularly vivid dream, he awoke thinking that she was lying beside him. He had instead wrapped his arm around his pillow. He remembered how good it felt, thinking that she was sleeping there, naked beside him. He remembered seeing her bare back in those dresses she seemed to like to wear. He looked at the clock - coming up on four thirty, and he hadn't gotten up. He resolved to do something about Ana, as soon as he got back to normal. What, he didn't know. But, he had to try something - if not, he was destined to be tortured by her image. But, what if he tried and failed again? Would he go through life thinking about her? Maybe better just to forget her now. But, that seemed impossible. He decided that he would wait until next week, and corner her if and when she came back to pick up grapes. He did still have her tee shirt, maybe he could make an excuse to get her alone. And, then say what? He asked himself. He groaned, and turned over, and went back into another Ana dream. Just then, the door opened. It was Jimmy, coming back to check on Miles. He yelled up "Any signs of life up there?" Miles groaned. The clock now read almost six.




In the Vineyard Ch. 04



"So, you made it to bed. I'm here to tell you that you need to get out of bed sometime." Jimmy sounded tired. 

"What about you? How did you manage to be in such good shape?"

"Simple. A few shots of Scotch I made last for hours - no wine, no pot, lots of food, and ended up ahead at poker. And, I crashed for a few hours - just got up myself. But, I'll be in bed early tonight." He looked up. "You, my friend, need to get out of bed and do something before this day is gone. I'll make some coffee." He started toward the kitchen.

"Hey, Jimmy."

"Whaaat?" Jimmy was yelling as he ran the water for coffee.

"Do me a favor? Please go in my office and bring me the stack of mail there - you know, magazines, the stuff I don't read every day. And, can you get today's mail too?"

"No prob. I'll get the coffee started. You do me a favor, and get your ass down here to drink a cup. And, I'd say take a couple of aspirin, too."

Miles groaned again. "I'll try."

Jimmy added the grinds to the coffee maker and went out the door. Miles stood up, gingerly. He felt a little weak, but not bad. He couldn't remember the last time he'd tied one on - had to be something like his undergrad graduation. By the time he'd finished his MBA, he was far too into his work to risk a celebration that might impact his performance, even for a day.

Jimmy went past the office first. He had his own key Miles had given him for emergencies. He unlocked the door and picked up the pile of mail. He started to leaf through it as he walked down the hall to the outside doors. He opened the overhead door partway, the clicked the opener to shut it, ducking underneath before it came down. He walked around the corner to the winery entrance. Today's mail would still be in the winery - since Miles hadn't opened his office, it couldn't be taken there. Jimmy went inside and looked for a pile. He saw it near the cash register and picked it up. There were a few customers milling around, the Friday night crowd was beginning to show up. Although the winery didn't feature steak cookouts on Fridays, they had live music until the end of the picking season, and various foods were offered including a daily soup choice, burgers, wood fired pizzas and various appetizer trays. 

"Hey, what're you doing?" Kayla came out from behind the tasting bar where she had been putting glasses away.

"Getting the mail. For Miles. He's ill today."

"Today? Its tonight. Anyway, I heard. From Brandon. About how 'ill' Miles is." She pouted at Jimmy. "Does wittle Miles need a nurse? I can take care of him."

"I'm doing fine, thanks anyway," Jimmy said. "Wittle Miles like wittle Jimmy taking care of him." He grinned at her. She scowled in return.

Jimmy kept leafing through the mail. He saw something and stopped. Now, how did I miss this earlier, he thought. I looked through the mail all week. No, wait, he remembered. There was one day I missed. "Holy shit," he said, and took off out the door. 

Kayla looked at him. She had a feeling she knew what it was. "Holy shit." She said to herself.

"Miles," Jimmy was yelling. He burst through the door. Miles was sitting at the table, drinking a mug of coffee, wearing a bathrobe. He looked a little pale, his eyes were red, but otherwise normal. 

"Jimmy, my friend. I won't let this day be a total waste. I will peruse my trade journals and then I'll get in the shower, and perhaps greet some of the customers in an hour or so. " He looked at Jimmy. "I do appreciate your help, though."

"No, Miles, you've got to look at this. It's from HER!"

"What do you mean HER?" But Miles already knew and started toward the pile Jimmy was holding. He saw the envelope and opened it. He read the contents and looked up. "What's the date? Shit, that's tonight. What time is it?" He looked at the clock. "No way I can make it. Jimmy, you call her. Tell her I'm sick."

"What's the deal, man?"

"Look at this. Where did you find it? Its dated five days ago, mailed on Monday and just got here?"

"No, man. It was in your office. Its been here for at least a day. In fact, it was near the bottom of the pile. It's been here for a few days. Someone messed up sorting your mail. Anything that says 'personal and confidential' should be in the read now mail." Jimmy had a guess who got the mail that day. But Miles wasn't listening.

"She is asking me over tonight, at 7. And, only call if I can't make it. That means I expected. Look at me. I'm a mess. And, its an hour drive there. What time is it? Its already seven." He grabbed Jimmy. "I can't call her, she'll think I'm trying to get out of it. You call her, and tell her I'm too sick to move."

"But, it's not true."

"What else can I do? Tell her to make it another night. Make it tomorrow, whenever."

Jimmy looked over the invitation. "Look, Miles. " He remembered the radio program from the other night. "I'm sure she's had this planned. She would have done all sorts of things, like clean her place, get her hair done, all of those chick things. You can't call her at the eleventh hour and claim sick. " He looked at the invitation again. "Miles it's clear. You have to go. Better late than never!"

Miles looked at him in panic. "I look like shit. I feel like shit. What am I supposed to do?"

"Here's what we do. Numero Uno - you get in the shower. I'll call her and make your excuses to be late. Next, you get dressed. Your friend Jimmy will take care of the little details, like buying flowers or something, so you don't show up empty-handed. Next, after you are on your way, you get your cell phone out and call her to tell her you are on your way. And apologize again for being late."

Miles started to protest, but Jimmy was walking past him into the bathroom, turning on the shower. Miles gulped down the coffee and went into the bathroom. Jimmy looked again at the card and picked up the phone.

Ana had everything in place by six-thirty, just in case he was early. She lit and blew out candles - didn't want to waste them. She had settled on wearing a loose fitting button front blue batik print dress. It had an adjustable tie in the back with which she could show off her slim waist. She wore high heeled slide on sandals. She had chosen simple jewelry, a blue beaded choker and matching earrings. She let her hair dry naturally, and it hung to her shoulders, thick and full of waves, with some streaks of gold from the sun. She was both nervous and excited. As the clocked advanced, now it was seven, she began to pace. She felt the wine, it was cool but not too cold. She looked out the window. Well, he could be a few minutes late, maybe he didn't gauge the distance property. She did another walk around the condo. She went into the bathroom and checked her hair and makeup. Seven fifteen. She sat and waited by the door. She finally turned on the television, keeping an ear out the door. Seven thirty. 

The phone rang. She jumped. She started for it, then slowed. She was starting to become angry. How dare he call her a half hour late to make excuses! She assumed he had more integrity than that. Surely he would know that she had made preparations. But, someone like Miles with women pursuing him all of the time, he would think nothing of blowing her off. He'd assume that she'd wait, just like all of the other women he had falling all over him. She looked at the phone, let it ring, and sat back down. Well, she wouldn't sit around here and wait all night for Miles Delong! The telephone stopped.

Jimmy frowned and hung up. How could she not be there? He looked and called the other number, the cell phone. It rang in Ana's car, unheard. He hung up when the voicemail came on. 

Ana started to feel bad. Maybe there was a legitimate problem. Maybe something went wrong. Maybe Miles had a valid excuse for not showing up. At least he was calling. That was better than just ignoring her. And, if he really didn't want to see her, she should find that out now and get over him before anything really happened. Then, she thought about her mother. Maybe Miles thought that she was just trying to 'sow wild oats" before remarrying Greg. He and Greg even knew one another. Maybe he looked at the whole thing as some joke.

She decided that she'd answer the phone if another call came. But, no sound. She picked up the receiver to make certain there was a dial tone. There was. Eight o'clock. Even if he was late, he should be here by now. She was now convinced that Miles was just taking advantage of her. Did she look that desperate? The thought upset her. She got her purse and keys. She had to go somewhere before she went crazy. Her usual hangout was the bookstore about a half mile away. They had live musical entertainment and served glasses of wines, beers and various coffees. Better than being home alone. She went outside, locking the door. When she got in the car, she could see that someone had called, but no message was left. Probably just Greg, anyway, she thought.

Jimmy decided against telling Miles that there was no answer. Maybe her telephone's ringer was off. He decided instead to make it his goal to get Miles down the road as quickly as possible.

"Hurry up in there, " he said toward the bathroom. "And Miles, don't forget to even up that macho facial hair. I assume you can dress yourself. I'd suggest wear a jacket, maybe not a tie, though. I'm going to run down to the grocery store. I'll be back in fifteen. Be ready to leave when I get back!"

Miles was shampooing his hair. The shower felt good and he felt pretty close to normal. Stay away from the demon liquor, he admonished himself. You learned years ago, he reminded himself, wine is ok, beer sometimes, but no spirits! Miles shut off the shower and wrapped a towel around himself. He cleaned the steam off of the mirror with a washcloth. He looked at himself. His mustache was normal, the darkening outline of the beard clung to his face. He picked up the razor and neatened the lines. He wouldn't shave it off, not this close to the end of the harvest. It was a superstition with him. He ran a comb through his hair, thinking briefly how lucky he was that he hadn't experienced any real hair loss. He kept his dark blond hair cut in long layers, which hung down around his neck at the bottom. 

The sun gave him a perpetual lightened effect. He thought for a minute of the old version of himself, that Miles would have never tolerated the shaggy mane Miles wore now - but he found that it was low maintenance, comfortable and added to his image as artesian winemaker. Miles left the towel behind and went upstairs trying to decide what to wear. Glancing at the clock - after eight now. He hoped that Jimmy had made a believable excuse. Miles discarded his silk sportcoat of the other day - he needed something different. He opened one of the metal utility chests he used as a closet. He found what he was looking for, a wine colored linen sport coat. He decided to wear black linen slacks and a black striped cotton dress shirt, with no tie. He put on his only black shoes - actually a pair of work boots that were luckily clean, having just returned from a shoe shop for a heel repair. He took another look in the bedroom mirror at his hair - it was almost dry. He ran the comb through it one last time as Jimmy came in the door.

"Jimmy! You came back!"

"You're sounding pretty chipper!" Jimmy was carrying a paper grocery sack. 

Miles descended the stairs. "Looking sharp, man," Jimmy said. "Look at what I got for you. Sun dried tomatoes in oil. Roasted Peppers. Fresh baked baguette." Miles could see the bread sticking out of the top of the bag. "And some assorted olives. You can't show up empty handed. And, I put the bouquet of flowers in your truck. Here, take this and get out of here. " Miles went out the door toward his truck.

"Wait!" Jimmy said, following him. "Here's the card. You have to call her, once you get on the road. The number's in here. And the map"

Miles thanked him and climbed up into the truck. He was relieved to see that he still had a half tank of gas. Eight forty-five. He'd be hours late. But, hopefully, she was still waiting for him.



In the Vineyard Ch. 05



Miles drove well above the speed limit once he got on the interstate. He hated to risk the ticket, but he didn't want to lose time. Fifteen minutes into the drive, he called Ana's home number. No answer. He tried the cell number. The voicemail came on immediately, she must have the phone turned off. He drove even faster, starting to get worried.

Ana walked into the bookstore. Tonight's act was a string quartet playing classical music. She had hoped for something livelier. She ordered a glass of her usual, the Domaine Tempier Rose, thinking about the precious bottle left at home in her refrigerator. She sat at a table by herself. Books were spread around and she looked at the titles. "Home Winemaking," "How to grow grapes," "Grapes into Wine," "The Guide to Italian wines." It was like a curse! She was surrounded by wine books. 

She looked at the next table. An illustrated volume of "Cinderella" sat there. Her mother's words echoed in her head 'Those Prince Charming types aren't always what they seem.' The string quartet launched into another somber slow piece, the third in a row. She couldn't take anymore of the depressing music, so she drank the wine and ambled around the store for a few minutes. She paused over a book of daily affirmations for those with lost loves. You did lose Greg, she reminded herself. But it wasn't Greg she was hurting over. Ana, you should have known better. Acting like some teenager with a crush! 

When Miles finally pulled up to the address on the card, just after nine thirty, the parking lot was empty and the condo was dark. He double checked the number. This was it. And, he would recognize her yellow car. He tried the phone numbers again, still no answer. He banged on the steering wheel. What was she trying to pull! Making him drive an hour! After what he went through to get here, on a day like today, and she stood him up. 

He stopped to consider his next move. The idea of spending another hour in the truck was not appealing. Then, he remembered Ana mentioned a bookstore that served wine by the glass. She might even be there, he thought. Anyway, he could relax with a glass of wine for a few minutes before starting the drive back. It was probably in the mall complex near the highway interchange.

As Miles drove, he became angrier. Ana knew he was going to be late, Jimmy had called. He drove to the mall and around for the bookstore. He spotted it - a busy late night bookstore café across the street - and headed over. He drove around, looking for both a parking space and a flashy yellow car. Sure enough, there it was. He was certain that was hers - there wouldn't be two of those in the same neighborhood. Miles considered that he was being petty. If she wanted to stand him up, that was her business. But, if that was the case, then why go to the bother, the written invitation? Why not just leave things as they stood after last weekend? No, she must have some other motive, maybe getting back at him for his blow up last Saturday.

Something inside of him was aching to see her, even if he was mad at her. He parked his truck and got out. He went into the huge store and started walking around. He was amused that he found himself almost immediately tailed by a threesome of high school aged girls. They followed him at a distance, trying to stifle their giggles. 

Ana spotted a group of giggling young girls, following some man around. She got just a glimpse of the man as he rounded the corner, she could see that he was tall, but couldn't see his face. The schoolgirls reminded her how foolish she'd been about Miles. She needed a diversion, she decided. I'll find something funny to read. Maybe some Kinky Friedman, his books always made her laugh. She headed for the fiction section.

Miles started a slow exploration, working his way out from the door so he wouldn't miss Ana if she left. She wasn't at the check out, or sitting at the bar or a table. He smiled when he saw the pile of wine books on one table. He wondered if Ana had selected those to read. Once he reached the center of the huge store, he looked all around. Then saw her, a blue dress swaying and clinging to her body as she walked forward. He bit his lip as he watched her moving, she was both graceful and determined. He set toward her, walking quickly.

Ana found it annoying that the giggling girls seemed to be moving in the same direction. She decided to avoid them by looking at music first, afterward she would head back and look through the books. She made an abrupt turn around and ran straight into someone. As she started to apologize, she looked up. "You!" she gasped.

He didn't look surprised to see her. "I've got something to say to you. But not in here. Outside." Miles had been startled by her sudden turn, and moved back a little just in time. Otherwise he was afraid that his hands would end up somewhere awkward. Stay cool, Miles, he told himself. She may be beautiful, but she's just playing games with you.

She gave him an icy stare. What was he doing here? It didn't make any sense. "I'm not certain I want to hear anything you have to say," 

He took her wrist firmly, his other hand pressuring her back, guiding her toward the exit door. 

"You damn well will listen." 

I can just scream, she thought. The security people will help me. All I have to do is yell. But she didn't make a sound. She was angry at him, and decided to give him a piece of her mind. Outside would be better - the bookstore was too public, too crowded. 

They reached the door and he opened it, keeping one hand on her arm. Ana wanted to pull her arm away, but she couldn't help feeling something of the sensation she'd felt when he touched her before. He started to walked into the parking lot, but changed his mind. He considered taking her to his truck, more private than standing outside, but he didn't want her to see the flowers and the other things. It just made him look more idiotic. He pulled her around the corner to the side and tried to maneuver between two of the many windows lining the store. He stood facing her, she with her back to the wall of the store.

"I don't know what your game is, Ms. Palmer," he started, "but...."

She interrupted. "Wait a minute. You, who have women falling at your feet, you're accusing me of playing some game? Where have you been? Why are you here now?"

"What do you mean where have I been? I've been on my way to your place for the past hour. And, I know for a fact that Jimmy called to tell you I was late."

Ana flushed. The phone call. It was an excuse, not a cancellation. She could see that Miles was getting angrier and she didn't know what to say to him. Try the truth. "He might have called, but he didn't speak to me. I didn't answer the phone. I thought it was you, calling me hours late to say you weren't coming. And, I didn't want you to think I was waiting for you. So, I left."

He was breathing slowly now, the anger fading. Miles started to feel uncomfortable. "Look, Ana, I'm sorry. The truth is, I didn't see your card until tonight - it got lost in a pile of mail somehow. And, to make matter worse, I had a poker party last night and really tied one on. I've been in bed all day. Jimmy dragged me out when he found the card, and insisted that I come late. I wanted to call and make an excuse, but he insisted that I go. And then, when you weren't there, I thought you were playing me for a fool, trying to get even for last Saturday, or something. I remembered that you mentioned a bookstore near your home. So, I came here, thinking I might find you and tell you I was onto you. " He looked at her. She could see that he was both tired and upset. Her own anger was replaced by a feeling of relief. He did want to see her, after all.

Miles was suddenly weary, drained after the confrontation. So, she was interested. But, what now? He looked at her, standing there, and he knew what he had to do. Forget common sense, he said to himself and leaned forward to kiss her.

Ana was longing to be kissed, but the quickness of Miles' move startled her. He pulled on her lips with his, then started to probe with his tongue. He kissed with an aggression she wasn't used to - and it made her feel powerless. Then, the kiss turned gentle and seductive, his tongue moving slowly and deliberately through her mouth. He ended the kiss by pressing again on her lips, then he took her hand and kissed the back of it as he had the other night. She could feel her heart racing, she was breathing hard, almost panting. He gently lowered her hand. 

"I hope I'm not coming on too strong," he said, his voice softer. Ana shook her head. "No," was all she said.

"Look, Ana. I'm not in great shape tonight. I don't think I would be very good company." I am tired, he told himself. But he was afraid of what would happen if he didn't go. Kissing her didn't make him want her any less, it magnified his desire. "Maybe we can make it some other time. I should go home now." And clear my head, he thought.

She put her hand on his arm as he turned. "Wait!" She tried to think fast. "I still have this wine at home. You could at least try some before you go back."

Miles shook his head. "I don't know. I have a way to go. And it's getting late."

"All the more reason you should relax before you make that long drive back." Ana the salesperson was taking over. "Besides, I really want your opinion on this wine. I went to great lengths to get it ready for tonight. And, I don't want to drink it all by myself."

Miles thought for a minute. She was right, taking the drive back right now would be a mistake. He raised an eyebrow. "OK, you've twisted my arm. I'll follow you there."

She smiled back and walked to her car. Miles watched her get in and drive down the road. He unlocked the truck and started it. Now he was getting in over his head. What had he been thinking all along? If he hadn't been hung over, if Jimmy hadn't been there, he would have just called her and begged off until he could spend some time thinking about things in a logical way. Well, one quick glass and he'd leave.

Ana drove slowly, trying to see if Miles was following. After two traffic lights, she gave up and just headed for home. Either he'd come or he wouldn't. And, what would she do where he was there? She kept getting mixed signals - after all, he'd driven all the way here to see her, and even went looking for her. And, found her. That in itself was some luck. She liked that he appeared interested and was pursuing her, but couldn't see why he was so quick to give up. Maybe he felt sorry for her, was just being nice to her. She couldn't stand thinking that, so she decided that she would pour him one glass of wine, after that say that she was tired and he should go. She didn't need to be someone's charity case! Besides, she was afraid of being alone with him for too long. Afraid of what she wanted to happen.

Ana pulled up and unlocked the door. No sign of a truck following her. She went inside and turned the lights on. Maybe he just went back, after all. The phone rang. Miles, calling to tell her he was going home, she thought. She'd better answer.

"Hello."

"Ana, this is Miles."

"I expected that. Look, thank you for calling. If you've changed your mind.."

Miles interrupted. "I had to stop for gas, I thought I'd better do it now and not later. I turned off the parkway to the Super Oil station. Can I get to your place from this road?"

Ana felt herself start to smile. "Yes, just keep going south, and you make a left, not a right, and come up from the bottom of the complex."

"I thought so, but I didn't want to get lost. I'll be there in a minute."

Ana took the wine out of the refrigerator. She was suddenly very nervous. She checked herself in the mirror - hair a little less smooth, but it was ok. She placed a CD in the player and turned it on softly. She reapplied lipstick, then heard a vehicle pull up. She looked out the window. Miles was sitting in the truck, and she could see that he was looking at the mirror on the visor. So, she thought, he's nervous, too. Or, at least concerned about how he looks. She saw him open the truck door and she moved away from the window so he wouldn't see her watching. She heard the knock and went to the door. She opened it and there he stood, leaning lightly against the frame, holding a large beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers. A paper grocery bag with handles sat on the ground beside him. She noticed for the first time tonight how handsome he looked, and how impeccably neat his clothes were. He smiled at her and handed her the flowers. As she thanked him and took them, he touched her arm. Again, that electricity. She was slightly red where he had grabbed her in the bookstore. He looked at her, concerned.

"Ana, I'm really sorry. I guess I'm a jerk sometimes. I have a temper, but I usually keep it under control."

"Its nothing, really. No pain." She paused, uncertain whether to continue. She decided to go for it. "I'm glad that you knew where to find me and the evening wasn't a total loss." She turned with the flowers. She had placed a small arrangement of dried flowers in the new blue glass vase. She moved those to a ceramic pitcher on the kitchen counter and placed the fresh flowers in the vase, running water into the bottom. Miles picked up the grocery sack and came inside, closing the door behind him. He clicked the lock. She looked back, a little alarmed.

"Sorry, its habit. When you live at a place that's open to the public, you know....do you want me to unlock it?" He looked at her to see her response. 

Ana forced herself to feel natural."No, of course not. I always look the door."

Miles looked relieved. He sat the sack on her kitchen counter. He started to pull the items out one by one. Ana came over and started picking up the jars.

"Dried tomatoes in oil. Roasted peppers! Mmmn. Oh, and this bread looks fresh!"

"You can thank Jimmy for this, he didn't want me to show up empty handed. In fact, you can thank him for me being here at all." Miles grinned at her. "For what that's worth," he said, with a little humor.

"Its very nice anyway. I had some cheese and crackers, we can put together a nice snack with this."

She looked up to see Miles staring at her. My god, he was thinking, she's so beautiful. With her hair around her shoulders and full, her face slightly flush, the batik dress draped to outline parts of her body - he could imagine the curves under the dress. Miles felt himself begin to feel warm and looked away. It had been so long since he'd wanted to make love to someone. There had been a little casual sex, years ago, but he found that to be more bother than it was worth. He was essentially celibate for as long as he could remember. But Ana brought his desire to the surface, he couldn't think of anything better right now than being able to see and touch Ana. He realized that he was staring at her again. He cleared his throat and looked away again. She was watching him. I hope she can't see what I'm imagining, he thought.

"Here is this bottle of wine." She carried it toward him and all thoughts of sex melted. He picked up the bottle. He had not seen anything like it. It was carved green glass, with a grape leaf design he could make out, and some scrolled letters around the bottom. There was no back label, or if there was, it was gone, and the front label was so obscured that he couldn't make out anything other than a letter in a fancy script here and there. He stared, but he was too tired to try to work out the missing letters. 

"I've never seen anything like it," he said.

"Nor had I. I thought you might know, though."

"How old is it? Where did you find it?

"I know its quite old. It was the oddest place. I'll have to take you there and you can speak with the owner. Maybe he'll give you more information than he gave me. But, I want you to taste it. He insisted that I taste before I bought it. I don't think you'll be disappointed. Here, you do the honors." She handed him an upright corkscrew. 

"Thanks, he said. I carry my own." He extracted a very fancy waiter's corkscrew from the inside pocket of his sport coat. He carefully ran it down the aged cork, and twisted it off very slowly. It came off without a sound. Ana handed him one of the crystal glasses. Miles took it and poured the wine. Ana knew that he was no longer aware of her, Miles was alone with the wine. She was witnessing that intensity that had initially attracted her.

Miles, as if in another world, was swirling the wine. He'd occasionally stop to sniff, the continue to swirl. Finally, he took a drink. And sat the glass down with a start. 

"My god," he exclaimed. "What is this?" He finally woke from the trance of sorts and looked to Ana. "What is this?" he said, softly. And, "where are my manners?" He poured her a glass. "I'm sorry. I get carried away sometimes."

Ana enjoyed the golden flavor - it was slightly different than yesterday, fresher, if that was possible. 

"This is incredible," Miles continued to look amazed. "I know I said that I wanted to leave, but I'm going to stay at least long enough to enjoy this. " He looked at her. "If you don't mind."

Ana was starting the feel the glow again, as she had yesterday. She felt herself becoming giddy. "Miles. We're both adults. You don't have to go home tonight." After the words came out, she wanted to take them back. On the other hand, looking at him, tall and handsome, with those intense blue eyes, she wanted to see what it was like waking up next to him.

Miles was a little taken aback by her forwardness. "Ana, let's drink some of this fine wine. Then have something to eat. Then..." Miles himself began feeling the glow from the wine. He suddenly heard the music. "What's that?" he asked.

"Oh, its Miles Davis."

"I thought so. Any reason?"

"No, its just that I listened to John Coltraine yesterday, and Miles Davis is next over in my rack." She looked up. "I keep my CDs in alphabetical order. Are you a jazz fan?"

"My dad was."

"I find this really comfortable to listen to, don't you?" The work was an earlier recording, complex arrangements of standard tunes. It was intricate and relaxing at the same time.

"Ana," he looked straight at her. "I believe in fate, signs, karma, whatever. Lets just say that this music is a sort of sign. I haven't thought for a long time that I'd have a chance with someone like you. And, for the last I don't know how many years, I never wanted to be seriously involved with anyone. So, here's my proposition, and excuse me for being too tired to make it sound better. Let's drink this wine and eat some food and I will tell you a story. And, if after that, you want me to stay, I will. Or, I will go away, out of your life, forever. " 

"Miles. I can't think of anything that awful, to make me tell you to go away forever....but, I'll listen to whatever you want to tell me," she said.

"OK, lets get some of this stuff opened. " He pulled on the lid of the roasted peppers. Then, he stopped and turned to her. "But first, Ana, just in case..." He moved close to her. "I'm sorry, but I can't let this chance be lost..." He was right in front of her, she could feel his breath. 

Miles lowered his face and placed his lips against hers. He put his arms around her back. She pulled close to him and put her arms around his shoulders. His mouth started to probe and reached for her tongue. She felt her pulse quicken, the rest of her body got excited. He was going deeper and deeper, she started to move her hands, feeling inside his shirt. He wasn't wearing an undershirt, she was feeling his chest, his flesh. Miles' hands started to wander as well, grasping her breasts through her dress. His touch was like lightning, and she was ready to yield everything to him. 

Miles suddenly pulled away. "I'm sorry, " he said, out of breath.




In the Vineyard Ch. 05



"Don't be," she said. "That was as much me as you."

"Ana....oh, Ana....If only we had met before" .

He poured a little more of the wine and sat into a chair. He seemed to have forgotten about the food. Ana sliced the cheeses and started to put together a platter of food, listening intently.

"Once upon a time," he began, "there was a young man who came from a nice family. They lived in a small town a couple of hours north of here. The kind of town where everybody knows everybody and everybody knows everybody else's business."

"The young man's parents were artists - his father was what you'd call a failed musician, only he never thought of himself as a failure. He played sax, drums and electric bass and he played in bands at parties, weddings, whatever, almost until the day he died. He had such a passion for music that he named his son for his favorite artist." He paused, then looked directly at Ana. "Miles. Miles Davis Delong."

Ana had a flash of memory - M. Davis - where had she heard that? Of course, at the winery, in Miles' office.

"My mother, she made beautiful things from fabric, she wove, and sewed, and knitted, and quilted, she could make anything from fibers you could imagine. The family were fortunate to have inherited money that supported their lifestyles."

"They hoped their only son would choose to pursue an artistic direction. But, he was determined to be different and to make his own living. He loved his parents but he though they were strange. And, he was embarrassed by his name. So, he started to go by his middle name of Davis. His father was hurt, but never really said anything. Anyway, this is the story of Davis." Miles poured a little more wine and took a small swallow.

"Davis was determined to be a success. He did well in high school, he ran cross country, played a little baseball, learned to golf, and graduated near the top of his class. He went to college, majored in business, and was obsessed by the thought of career, money and success. He did everything he could to help him meet his goals. He took summer internships, read business magazines, started to dress the part, even wearing suits and ties while he was still a college student. He carried his books in a briefcase, instead of a book bag." Miles laughed a little to himself. "When he graduated, he was heavily recruited by a local branch of an investment services office. They paid for Davis to complete his MBA." Miles stopped and looked back at her. "I bet you didn't think I ever went to college. Let alone had an MBA."

Ana blushed. "Well, I can say honestly that I thought there was more to you than you showed."

"Fair enough. So, Davis, impatient with making money for other people, decided to take his MBA and start his own business. He hung up his shingle, as they say, and started an investment counseling/financial planning business. He had a lot of family friends who came on board as clients. Things were going well, but it was getting a little hectic. He bought a big house, drove flashy cars, but he didn't want to spend all of his time at the office. So Davis decided he needed help" 

"And help showed up one day. She was beautiful." He looked over at Ana, listening intently. "Not nearly as beautiful as you, though," he said, sincerely. Ana felt herself blushing.

"Beautiful, intelligent, and so incredibly likeable that everyone instantly took to her. She had long golden blond hair, hanging down her back. And, she was always happy, quick to laugh, a beautiful melodious laugh that people loved. Emma, Em, soon became a fixture in my, I mean Davis' office and the clients were just as comfortable with her as with Davis. Em had some schooling in accounting and bookkeeping, was just wonderful. She encouraged Davis to get out of the office and market to new clients. Em was always willing to stay late, and, if she thought that Davis was tired, or burnt out, she would insist that he leave. Eventually, Davis lost track of much of the business, but Em was so capable and so well liked that he wasn't that concerned. If he forgot about some detail, or some client, Em was there to prompt him. Davis' father in particular really liked Em." Miles paused. "It didn't seem meaningful at the time, but Davis' mother was always a little hesitant about Em.

"So, there was one week when Em had set Davis up with so many out of town and out of the office appointments that he wasn't in at all. Finally, mid day Friday, Davis had a cancellation and he came back to the office. Em was leaving, surprised to see him. She told him that she had a doctor's appointment and would be right back. Davis was surprised that she would close the office in the middle of the day, it wasn't like her at all, but he didn't say anything, she was in such a hurry to get going. 

As soon as Davis walked into the office he knew something was wrong. Drawers were opened, files were gone, papers were astray. He thought he should call the police, but didn't. A part of him couldn't' believe that Em had done anything wrong. He discovered over the following weekend that his personal bank accounts were completely empty. He still thought that Em would come back, that there had been some emergency or misunderstanding, or something. Finally, late on Monday, he called the police who eventually contacted the FBI. Although Em had drained Davis' accounts, he still had his house and cars and a little money he kept for emergencies. Em hadn't taken very much from the clients, just some of the fees collected during the last week, but Davis sold his house to pay back every cent. Most disturbing was Em's other operation. She was running a phony investment club targeted at the very religious. She received hundreds of thousands in cash, maybe more, if you count those who didn't ever come forward to admit they'd been duped. She did this entirely through the mail. She had set up a separate post office box but sometimes she received an overnight delivery. For those, she used the office - the reason for her insistence on staying in the office, and her encouragement that Davis leave."

"As I said, Davis sold his house, and his cars. He moved in with his mom - the family house was large enough for him to have his own area. His father had died, fortunately before all of this happened, since he was close to Em. Davis went into a deep depression. People didn't seem to blame him - after all, he'd paid all of his clients back and helped them find an investment firm to take his place - no, it was their looks of pity he couldn't deal with. Everyone thought he was incompetent, that he didn't know how to run his business. And, they were right!' Davis began to eat and drink too much and gain weight. He didn't leave the house. His mother was concerned - Davis had not been that athletic after college, but he shot a few rounds of golf now and then, and ran occasionally. He began really deteriorating now. He'd even taken to smoking cigars, after being an adamant non smoker all of his life."

"So, Davis mother called several of her friends for help. Jack Formby, an old friend of the family, was most receptive. Jack had been through his own hard times when he was young, and felt the need to return the help he had been given. Plus, he had a business that was becoming too much for him - Creek Valley Winery. And he talked Davis into working at his winery. It wasn't easy to shake Davis out of his depression, but between Jack and his mom, they convinced him that he had to do something now, or he never would. Jack managed to sell Davis on the idea of starting over, reinventing himself. As an added incentive, he offered Davis a percentage of the profits. More importantly, Davis didn't have to be Davis anymore - he could go far away, where people didn't know about him, about Em, about what happened. And he decided he would go, and that he would finally be Miles, as his father had intended. He had already started to change his appearance - growing his hair longer and wearing a mustache. New name, new place to live in, new job, it was like having a second chance."

"Miles went through the most challenging time of his life that winter. Jack moved out of the winery and moved Miles in. There was no heat in the winery other than a small woodstove in the fireplace - we've since put in a propane furnace - so Miles had to cut wood to heat the place. He came close to leaving time after time, but he felt that he owed Jack at least one full year. And, after a lot of backaches, Miles came to enjoy the fact that he was getting in better physical shape than he'd been since high school. He quit drinking, other than wine, quit smoking, and started to watch what he ate. When he had time to eat! Jack showed him how to prune the vines, and Miles started to learn how to run a winery. It was Miles' good fortune that Jimmy showed up one day out of curiosity and decided to stick around and help. Todd wasn't interested and Brandon was just a kid then. So Miles and Jimmy started to turn the place around. They took Jack's little winery and made it into a successful business. And Miles never wanted to look back."

Ana walked toward Miles. She held a platter on which she'd arranged the roasted peppers, dried tomatoes and cheeses. She sat it on her coffee table. Then, she placed her hand on Miles hand. "Its not so bad, after all. So, your assistant took some money. It's not that bad."

Miles squeezed her hand, then withdrew his.

"No, that's not all of it. Em wasn't just my assistant. We were married six months after she came to work for me. And, I'm still married to her, wherever in the world she is!"

Ana let this sink in. She walked back to get some plates and utensils, starting to feel a little sick to her stomach. Married!

Miles continued . "There is still one other thing. When I was still living with my mom, a couple of months after it happened, Em sent me another surprise . A sixteen year old girl in a sports car pulled up in our driveway. Tessa was Em's daughter. She introduced herself - Em had become pregnant when she was in high school. Of course, by this time, the police and FBI had told me more than I wanted to know about Em, a series of marriages, changed names, altered identities, and an ongoing string of scams and con games. So, the idea of a secret daughter - I really shouldn't have been surprised. 

Tessa came to the door with an envelope. She said her mother missed me. In the envelope, she said were directions and a plane ticket. The thing that bothered me the most was that Em would ever think that I was that unethical, that I would want to be with her and her stolen money. I never understood why it wasn't enough for her to stay with me, knowing we'd eventually inherit as much as we'd ever need. And, I wasn't doing that badly on my own. I guess for Em, it was all about the game, the challenge of it. " He shook his head. "I sent Tessa away. I considered taking the information to give to the police, but I just didn't want to think about it anymore. And I didn't want to involve or hurt the daughter - it wasn't her fault her mother is a criminal. If they did catch Em, it would be all over the papers up there and I'd be right in the middle of it. I didn't want to put my mom, or myself through any more. So Tessa left, and that was the last I saw of her. Or heard about Em. I promised Jack to leave the past behind when I came here. To the extent that I can, I've kept that promise."

"You said something about other people knowing."

Miles frowned. "Some people thought they needed to know more about me than I wanted to discuss. But, that's not really important now."

Ana was sure he must mean Todd Formby. Maybe even Greg. Maybe that was what Greg was talking about at lunch the other day.

Miles stood up. "You see, Ana, what I've been saying? If we had met back then, before Em, before this happened, I was another version of a Greg. Someone you could take home to your family. But, I can't go back, and I don't want to. I think that, whatever drove me to it, I was meant to be a winemaker. And, I was meant to be Miles."

Ana didn't know what to say. She was trying to digest it all. Miles - married! And, married to a criminal who had fled! Was his secret better or worse than she'd feared? One thing she did know, for certain. She stood beside Miles, and took his hand. She looked up at him. 

"Miles, its who you are now that I find so attractive. This Davis, he would have been just another man like every other man in my life, at my work, my parents' friends, or like another Greg. Its your passion for what you do that I find so appealing. I'm sure that Greg in his way, likes what he does, he spends lots of time at it, but I've never seen him absorbed like you get. If you could have seen yourself when you first tasted this wine - Miles, part, a big part, of what I like about you is that you love what you do." She was beginning to think that things might not be so impossible, after all. "Can't you get a divorce?"

"Yes, I can. I just haven't. In a way, I don't want to think about it. In another way, I just I feel like I need to suffer, for being such an idiot. Ana, I did pay everyone back, but it happened, as they say, on my watch. I should never have allowed it to happen." He looked at her. "I've avoided getting too close to a woman. I was afraid that something like this would happen, and then I'd have to live through it again." He turned. It took her a moment to realize he was heading for the door.

"Miles, wait." He turned back. "You said it was my choice. I didn't ask you to leave." She took a deep breath. She could hear her mothers' voice. 'These Prince Charming types aren't always what they seem.' That's right, mother, she said to herself, there is much more to this man than meets the eye. "Miles, I want you to stay. Tonight. And, as long as you like."

He turned back, and she could see a mixture of surprise and reluctance on his face. 

"Ana, there's another reason I am afraid to get involved with you. You see, you're the kind of woman I could fall in love with. If we go forward, I can't guarantee that won't happen. And, as you've noticed, I get pretty intense about the things I love." He started to walk back toward her. 

She said, "I'm not afraid. Whatever happens, happens."

He took her hand again. This time, he started kissing her fingers, one by one, and putting the tips in his mouth. She felt like she was starting to float. She began to lean toward him. Miles held her against him, and with a sudden movement, he bent down and picked her up. She was caught off guard, and put her arms around his neck. But he had a firm hold of her. He walked toward the hallway, it was the only direction to go other than out the door. He looked through the doorways until he saw the bed. The he crossed the room and laid her lightly on the bed. "Wait here a minute," he said quietly. He went out of the door and came back a minute later. He had taken off his sport coat and carried the wine with the two glasses. He poured a glass for her, she sat up and took it. He sat on the side of the bed, and started to stroke her legs. 

"You know, we should eat something. Too much wine, too little food, not a good thing."

Ana nodded. Miles went out of the room again. She had a sudden thought, and opened her closet. She untied the dress and slipped it off. She put on a pale green silk bathrobe over the blue lace underpants she was wearing. She slipped off her shoes. She looked at herself in the mirror and started to run a brush through her hair. Miles came in with the plate of food. He sat it down on her nightstand, and came up behind her. He took her hand with the hairbrush. "No," he whispered in her ear. "I like it messy. " he ran his hands through her hair. She watched him behind her in the mirror, she could see his hands in her hair, then running down her shoulders. She spoke to the image in the mirror.

"I have a man's bathrobe. I wear it in the winter. In the bathroom, in case you want to get more comfortable." Miles kissed the top of her head. He went through the door in the corner leading to the bathroom. She could hear him carefully undressing, and he came back into the bedroom in the green and white striped bathrobe, carrying his carefully folded pants. "Hanger?" he asked. 

She nodded and took one out of the closet. He draped the pants over it and placed his shirt on the hanger, buttoning the top button. She was surprised by this neatness, he seemed so relaxed the rest of the time. He saw her watching. "Habit," he said. "Leftover from my suit and tie days." He looked at the night stand. "Food, remember?"

Although Ana wasn't hungry, she forced herself to eat some of the food. She nibbled at a piece of bread, but Miles went for the tray with some enthusiasm. He took a piece of bread, topped it with some cheese, and a piece of roasted pepper. He repeated this a few more times, then finished with a couple of the sun dried tomatoes. He looked at her. "You'll be sorry. " He was smiling broadly. He topped another piece of bread and handed it to her. She took it and was surprised to find it refreshing. The pepper was slightly tart, the cheese soft, and the bread had a pleasant crunch without being too hard. 

Miles was enjoying watching Ana eat. Her hands were delicate and she took neat little bites. He wiped his mouth with a tissue. He looked back at her. "Missed one," she said, smiling, and pulled a crumb from his whiskers. He liked that, too, she wasn't embarrassed, or uncomfortable, it was as if they had known each other for a long time. 

"Get enough?"

"Mmm," she said. "You?"

"I'm fine." He handed her back her glass of wine and picked his up. 

Ana was finding it strange that Miles would stop his seduction for food. But, she didn't mind it. He didn't seem to be any less interested in her, he was just aware enough to know that they shouldn't drink and not eat.

They finished their respective glasses of wine. Miles looked at the bottle. "I'm going to cork what's left and put it in the frig. I want to try it again tomorrow, and take a careful look at it. Do you have anything else I can open?"

Ana thought. "There is a bottle of sparkling, Blanc de blancs or something, out there. I have an ice bucket..."

"I'll find it." He got up. Ana relaxed and lay back on the bed. Miles returned in a couple of minutes, the wine in the ice bucket and two flutes in the pockets of the robe. 

"The wine needs a few minutes. Do you think this is cold enough?"

He was holding an ice cube, and ran it along her neck. The sensation was thrilling, the cold ice cube creating a line of chill along her warm flesh. Ana made a little noise. 

"That's good," he said. "I guess you're still awake." The ice cube was melted, Miles rubbed his wet and slightly chilled hand inside the front of her robe, underneath her breasts. He leaned up and untied her robe, spreading it open around her body. "Ana, you are so beautiful," he said looking. He got up off the bed and took off the bathrobe he was wearing. She looked over at him. He was turning, opening the sparkling wine. His back and bottom were full of tight muscles, almost the figure of a weight lifter. She heard the pop, and Miles was handing her a flute full of bubbles. She had to cover up a gasp as she realized that he was standing there, nude and ready. He downed his own flute in a gulp, then straddled her in the bed. Miles started with a kiss on the back of each hand, Ana moaned as she felt his tongue. He caressed her arms with his hands, and followed with his mouth. He kissed her shoulders, her neck, and the tops of her breasts. Ana lay as if in a trance. She occasionally let forth a sound, and grasped to hold onto his back. But, he kept moving, and moved down. He worked his mouth all around her legs, along her belly, coming closer, but not quite touching her there. He stopped, and kissed her on the mouth. "What do you call it?" he asked.




In the Vineyard Ch. 05



"It?"

"You know," he said, pointing down. "What do you call it? 

She thought. "I never really named it, I just think of it as my....you know, my...thingy, whatever."

"Some people name them after animals, others after food. I think I'll call it Ms. As in Ms. Ana Palmer. Is Ms. Ready?"

Ana was breathing hard. Of course she was ready! But she didn't say anything, she suddenly had a worrisome thought.

Miles rose out of the bed and left the room. Where was he, she wondered, she needed to tell him something. Then, with relief she saw him. He was carrying a familiar looking small package, obviously what he had gone after. His glance met her eyes.

"Ana, don't take this the wrong way. I'm not implying anything about you. Or me, for that matter. Better safe than sorry." He opened the package. "And, don't think that I'm in the habit of having unexpected sex. I bet this one has been in my wallet for a year or more." He looked at it. "I think they have a reasonable shelf life."

"Miles, thank you for doing that. I would have asked you to." She blushed. "I keep some in the drawer, not that I'm in the habit of anything." He smiled and laughed. "I'm sorry if this upset our timing. I'll try to get back." But Miles was not good at being patient, it had been too long. After a few short kisses, he pulled the lace panties down and was entering her. It wasn't a problem, Ana was equally impatient. Miles tried to take long, leisurely strokes, but his excitement got the better of him. He took just a couple of minutes, and was spent, long before Ana could feel satisfied. He rolled over, sweating and panting. 

"Ana, I'm so sorry. I'm acting like I'm a teenager. It's just that you've made me so hot, and its been so long." He leaned toward her. "I promise it won't be like this every time. I just couldn't hold on." He got out of the bed and went into the bathroom. She could hear the water run, then he was back, naked and rinsed off. "Here," he said, pulling her head up on the pillows. "I'll try to satisfy you." 

Miles started with her feet. Before that time, Ana hadn't thought of her toes as sensual, but feeling his mouth she changed her mind. After Miles worked out each toe, he started up her legs, feeling with his hands, and following with his mouth. When he reached the tops of her legs, he paused and looked up at her. "Lets see how Ms. is doing." He said. And, he proceeded to demonstrate to her for the first time in her life that she could climax simply from a well directed mouth and tongue. Miles could feel Ana vibrating inside, and he felt a sense of pleasure from giving her this gift. She started to make louder noises and to roll a little side to side. Miles moved up the bed, holding her tight, and began kissing her on the mouth. In a couple of minutes, her reaction passed, and she lay quiet in his arms.

"Thank you," she whispered. "That was wonderful."

"Your pleasure is my pleasure." He held her for a little while. Then he got up again. Ana reached out and made a little sound. "Shhh, sweet. I'll be right back." She heard Miles walking around, checking the locks, closing the kitchen window and turning out the lights. He had found her vacuum cap for the sparkling wine, and carefully put it on the bottle. He turned out the bedroom light and came up to the bed. Ana was laying on the outside of the covers, bathrobe still partially on. He took the robe off, one side at a time, and rolled back the covers. He guided her under the covers, and then joined her in the bed. She was quickly falling asleep, and the last thing she remembered was Miles putting his arms around her.

Ana woke up, it was barely light, but something was stirring. She remembered Miles, but found herself in an empty bed. There was a sound in the other room, someone walking around. The sound of steps coming down the hall. 

"I see you're awake," he said. "Here," he said handing her an oversized tee shirt. "Put this on. You'll get sick, with nothing on. It's a cool morning."

"What time is it?" She saw that Miles had on his pants from last night, and an underwear shirt. 

"Just after seven. Oh, and I borrowed this. " he gestured to the shirt. "I'll give it back. I just didn't want to go back in my clothes from last night. I have a work coat in the truck I can wear over this."

"Go back? At seven?"

"Ana, I have to. There are people who will notice if it seems that I'm neglecting my duties. I'll call you in a couple of hours." Seeing the fear on her face, he added, "Promise. I'd like for you to come over later - I can't very well take off on a Saturday during cook out season. But, I'd like it very much if you could be around." He looked at her seriously. "And, pack a toothbrush. My turn to be the overnight host. Besides, Sunday is my day off. " He started to walk out of the room. "For Ms. Ana and her Ms..." he said over his shoulder. She could hear him starting to sing, something cheery, she couldn't make out the words. He went out the front and next thing she knew, the sound of the truck leaving. 

Ana stayed in bed a few minutes longer. She got up, started some coffee, and started to sort through her things. What if he didn't call? She began to worry, and tried to put it out of her mind. The telephone rang.

"Hello"

"Ana?" Miles voice, somewhat hesitant.

"Miles? Is everything alright?"

"Yeah. I'm driving down the interstate. Have you got a pencil?

"Yes." She had a pen and paper by the phone.

"This is my cell number." She took down the number. 

"Listen, about today..." he started

"if you're busy, its ok," she interrupted.

"I do have to work some, but, I'd really like for you to be there. Here's the deal. If you want to come by early, wear work clothes and you can help me. That is, if you don't mind. I usually take a shower and change before the cookouts start. Or, you can just come by later. And stay, I hope. Then tomorrow, I need to go see Jack."

"I can come back home then."

"No, I'd like you to meet him. Beyond your first near miss, I mean." 

Ana remembered the golf card incident. It seemed like ages ago, but it was only a couple of weeks.

Miles continued "Listen, Ana, I'm trying to say I'd like for you to come to the winery today, and stay, maybe until Monday. If you like. Or at least overnight tonight. " He paused. "Ana, I'm afraid that this was a dream. If you could be with me here, it would be so much more real. I hated to leave you, but I have to get back. Will you come and see me?"

"I'll get myself together and leave in an hour or so. Where should I look for you?"

"Try my door. If I'm not there, come down to the vines. I'll be watching for you."

"OK. See you soon. " She thought for a minute. "Miles?"

"I'm here."

"Miles, what you said last night, about how you couldn't guarantee you wouldn't fall in love."

"Ana, I'm not trying to push you. I was tired. And drinking."

Ana was silent. 

"Ana? Are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here." 

He could hear a change in her voice. Had he just said the wrong thing? He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Ana. I wasn't that tired. Or drunk. " 

He paused. "You'll be at the winery this morning, right?"

"I plan to. Bye, Miles." She hung up. Again, some mixed messages but he seemed to really want to see her. Ana looked at the clock. Just about eight. 



In the Vineyard Ch. 06



Miles stopped for a cup of coffee at a convenience store before returning to the winery. He tried to remember how much of a mess was left from the poker game. It didn't seem like it was that bad. Most of it could be removed with generous use of large trash bags. And, the windows had been left open to clear the air.

As Miles pulled into the winery, he saw Todd's big, black luxury car. Can't be good news, he thought. He parked in the public lot and went up to the winery building. It was locked, but Miles had a set of keys. He went into the front, locked the door behind him, and started looking around. He saw some print outs of register receipts in a pile. Todd was nosing around about the missing cases, he surmised. He heard the sound of voices in the upper room and went up to find Todd and a woman he didn't recognize. They had a spread of bagels and crème cheese, with foam cups of coffee like the one Miles had just bought. Todd barely glanced up at Miles. 

"I see you decided to come back. We missed you last night."

This early, Miles thought, Todd already had him steaming mad. He kept his temper in check - after all, he had no idea who this was with Todd - obviously not his wife, Carol, who Miles generally found pleasant. "You know, Todd, I don't usually work on Friday nights anymore. I'm sure that Jimmy helped Brandon with any overflow." Miles felt some need to explain himself. "I went out of town and I was too tired to drive back. I found a place to stay." He hoped that implied that he had stopped at a motel. He looked at Todd's companion. "Hello. I'm Miles Delong. I'm the wine maker and general manager here." He knew that it would annoy Todd, who always made more of his own role at the winery. 

The woman looked up and smiled. She looked vaguely familiar, Miles thought. She had dark brown hair, in what Miles considered a fussy style, curled and sprayed in a face-framing way. She had an open, interested face, big dark eyes and neatly shaped eyebrows. She was dressed in a pants suit of bright teal, with a red top under the jacket. Miles found it amazing that she was also wearing shoes and carrying a handbag each also teal with red trim. She had the air of someone who is accustomed to being the center of attention. She rose, and held her hand out.

"Cassandra Combs, known as Cassy Combs. I'm the food and wine writer for the Messenger. We're doing a series on wineries in the Midwest, and Todd was kind enough to offer to spend the day here with me, give me a behind the scenes look." Miles remembered now seeing her photo in the daily newspaper. He read her column regularly, but found it upsetting that she focused on wines from California and other parts of the world.

"Great! I'm glad to see that you're going to give some coverage to the local products." Miles said, trying to look excited. He'd just made plans with Ana, now what? He couldn't possibly let Todd run this, he didn't have a clue about so many of the operations of the winery. He had to tactfully extract Cassy from Todd, but he also planned to try to keep Todd away from Ana. 

"If you'll excuse me, I need to take care of some things. " He looked at Todd. "What's your itinerary with Ms. Combs?" Without waiting for an answer. "I'd like to show her through the vineyard." He knew that Todd wouldn't want to risk getting dirty. Or show his total ignorance about the growing of grapes.

She cut in. "Call me Cassy, please. That sounds great. And, before you worry, I did bring some boots to change into for tramping around the vines." 

"OK. I'll meet up with you again in, say half an hour." Todd didn't look happy, but couldn't seem to think of an argument. "Todd, you might go through the cellar operations until then." Todd knew enough to bluff his way around for a short while, but Miles knew he'd better hurry.

"That was my plan, of course. Take your time, Miles."

"I'll see you soon, Cassy" Miles purposely ignored Todd. He went down the stairs, through the halls and home. He needed to change, to clean up his place, and to try to call Ana.

Ana heard the phone ring as she was going out the door. She was carrying an overnight bag. After much agonizing about what would be just right, she had settled on a long sleeved, button front light green dress for this evening, and two possibilities for tomorrow - a loose cotton skirt with a brown and gold print, or a pair of off white cotton slacks. She had a beige crocheted sweater set that went with either. She might stay tonight, but she would have to come home on Sunday. Things were moving fast now, but she relished the thought of spending another night making love with Miles. There would be time later to think about her other worries - Miles wife, her parents, even Greg. What if Miles wanted her to move in? Ana, she chided herself, don't jump the gun. 

She decided to show up ready to work today, and was wearing a pair of old jeans that her father had given to her one time when she was helping paint a room in the lake house. They were a couple of sizes too big, and had a few spots of different colored paint. She pulled them snug with a belt. Over a white cotton tank top, she wore an old light blue workshirt, also her father's. Her hair was in a ponytail and she had on an old blue baseball cap, also with some paint stains. She applied a touch of moisturizer, a clear lip gloss and, after scrutinizing her face, a light touch of mascara. She decided that she should place practicality over attractiveness. Besides, Miles had already seen all of her that there was to see.

The cell phone was in the car, and just stopped ringing when she opened the door, loading her overnight bag. If its important, they'll call again, she told herself. Or leave a message. She went back for a final check of the condo. She left a light on, as she did when she went up to the lake house. She grabbed her work coat and her denim jacket. She picked up a pair of cotton gardening gloves she had used repotting plants that spring, and rejected them - the look was too amateurish, she thought. She could buy some brown jersey gloves at the gas station on her way that would look more serious. She thought of one last thing, grabbed the partially finished bottle of wine and put it in a cooler. She'd buy some ice. She locked the door, got into the car, and started down the road, listening to Car Talk on National Public Radio as she drove down the road. It seemed today that everyone had problems with trucks. She wondered what it would be like to ride with Miles in his truck. She had never dated anyone who drove a pick up before. But, she decided, its not that different than Uncle Chesters SUV, just has more room to carry things. Ana stopped after a few miles for gas - it was usually cheaper at the next interchange beyond hers, and today was no exception.

Miles waited a couple of minutes, then tried the home number again. He began to think that he didn't know what he'd say - tell her to stay home? That would be a mistake. All he had to do was keep her occupied for a few hours while he showed Cassy Combs around. By that time, Brandon would be here, and he could charm Cassy through a wine tasting. What he needed was some help - Jimmy would know what to do.

He called Jimmy and let the phone ring 12 times before a sleepy voice answered. 

"This better be important, Miles," Jimmy had caller id.

"Jimmy, my friend, my best friend.."

"Cut the bullshit," Jimmy sounded more alert. "By the way, how'd it go with Ms. Ana Palmer last night? Or are you calling me to come and pick you up after she stole your truck and robbed you?"

"it was fine. I mean, it was great. That's the problem. Or, not really a problem. But I have one now."

Miles explained about Cassy Combs. Jimmy immediately understood that it was important that Cassy be exposed to the winery through Miles and not Todd, if they had any hope of a favorable and accurate story. But, there was Ana. And, there was work to be done for the cook out. 

"All I need is for you to keep an eye on her - have her help you get ready - just for a couple of hours, then I'll pass the reporter off to Brandon. "

"He's still asleep."

"Well, please ask him to come in early today - no later than noon, if he can handle that."

"You're going to owe us, big time."

"That's ok. We'll deal with that later. " While he was talking, Miles was walking around his home - other than the bed, which showed signs of yesterday's restless sleep, the place was pretty clean. "Thanks for cleaning up, too."

`"No problem, man. After you left, I just scooped everything into trash bags. We didn't use any actual dishes, except a few wine glasses. I put them in the dishwasher."

"Thanks, again."

"So, she's ok."

"She's great. Beautiful, intelligent..."

"Great in bed?" Jimmy cut in.

"I didn't say that."

"But you were thinking it, I could hear you."

"Let's just say that it's going well, considering that was our first date."

"And you spent the night." A comment not a question.

"I was too tired to drive home."

"Whatever. I'll be there in a few. Take care of Cassy Combs. Her picture in the Messenger looks pretty cute."

"She is. I'll be showing her through the vines. Can you watch for Ana, and grab her? And, whatever you do, don't let Todd get control of her either."

"You can count on me. What? " he said, away from the phone. "And, Sleeping Beauty has awoken." He yelled away from the phone again. "Its Miles, and he wants you to come to work early. "Miles could hear a muffled reply, then Jimmy laughing. "I won't tell you what he said. Don't worry, we'll be there for you!"

Miles took off his dress pants and put on a pair of double layered work jeans. He opted for brown high topped lace up work boots instead of his usual rubber boots. It had been dry during the last few days, but the rubber boots were still mud covered. The morning had been cool, but another warm and sunny afternoon was forecast. He put on a dark blue sleeveless tee shirt and a heavy cotton dark blue button down long sleeved shirt. He checked the clock - it had been twenty -five minutes since he'd left Todd and Cassy. He went out the back way, down the hall, and unlocked his office. There was a note from Todd, dated yesterday - 'Must see you ref: missing wine. ASAP. TF.' Miles crumpled it up and threw it away. There would be plenty of time to talk about a few cases of missing wine after the weekend was over. Now, he had to deal with not only a woman he felt himself becoming very interested in, but had the curve ball of the newspaper reporter thrown at him. Just like Todd, to plan something like that and forget, or purposely not tell Miles. Well, lucky he found them in time!

He picked up his refractometer - the reason for stopping at the office, and left, locking the door. He went down the hall toward the sound of voices in the outer portion of the cellar, and found Todd and Cassy. She beamed brightly at the sight of Miles. 

"Todd, thank you SO much for showing me around. I'll find you again after we look at the vines." She looked at Miles. "I need to go to my car and get my boots. I also need to call Manny. He's the photographer assigned to this and he's late! Thanks, again, Todd. You were really full of information." She gave him a quick peck on the check. He reddened slightly and made a little motion like a bow. "Well, I must go look over some of the financials," he said, shooting a glance at Miles. Miles couldn't resist. "if you see anything there you don't understand, just ask me." 

"I'm sure I'll be just fine. Other than some anticipated...differences. Cassy, I'll see you soon."

The overhead door was open and Cassy walked out through it. Miles hit the button, and ran out, ducking as the door came open. 

"Thank god. What an absolute bore he was!" She looked at Miles to see his reaction.

Miles knew better than to take any bait when talking to a reporter. "Todd's ok, he's just a little dry."

"Well, Miles I hope that you aren't so...dry. I must say that you are certainly easier on the eyes!" She said this without a hint of embarrassment. Miles was beginning to know what was expected - in addition to information, Cassy would do her best to see that they carried on a flirtation. He sighed internally. Why couldn't the food and wine writer be a middle aged married man? Or even a middle aged married woman? Cassy was in her late 20s or early 30s, small with a slim body, and a somewhat exotic look. He bet she was hit on fairly often. 

Cassy watched Miles, trying to read him. No ring, and Todd said that Miles lived here. No sign of a wife around, plus he had spent the last night away from home. Girlfriend, probably, but Cassy didn't see that as a problem. She wasn't looking for anything other than a good time, anyway. When she'd met with Todd at the winery that morning, she knew immediately that she didn't want to spend the day with him. She phoned Manny and told him to plan on leaving about noon. She asked him to find the next closest winery and give them a call to see if it could be arranged. Now, she was thinking about changing her plans. 

"I'll just get my boots on," she said. She opened the door of her all wheel drive station wagon and sat sideways on the seat. She reached the boots from the passenger side. A cell phone rang.

"Cassy Combs. Manny! Where are you? No, cancel it. I know what I said, cancel it. I think I've found enough of a story here! Call me when you pull in." She smiled at Miles and clicked off, placing the phone in her jacket pocket. "He'll be here in a few. I want him to get some pictures of you. And, the place of course." She smiled and pulled off the teal and red pumps. She rolled up her slacks legs a couple of turns and put on a pair of rubber boots with a suede top. She put her purse in the glove compartment, after extracting a small case. It turned out to hold a small sized recorder and spare tapes. "I hope you don't mind," she said to Miles. It's much easier than trying to write, especially when we're outside. It is a beautiful day. All ready." She got out of the car and closed the door, clicking her key to lock it. "Lead on, Mister winemaker," she said to Miles, and linked her arm in his. Miles wanted to resist, but decided it was harmless. Besides, it was in his best interest to get a positive write up, both for Creek Valley and for himself. There would be a day, maybe soon, when he was ready to start his own winery. Good publicity for him would be good publicity for it.

Ana pulled up in time to see Miles walking arm in arm with another woman. She got out of her car and started to follow, when Jimmy came up to her, grinning. He was dressed in work clothes - jeans and a flannel shirt, and wearing a New York Yankees ball cap.

"Ana!" he said, as if he was waiting for her. "Can I call you Ana banana? It just seems to fit."

She vaguely heard him and nodded. She was watching the figures. Jimmy followed her glance.

"We have a slight problem today." He put the emphasis on the word slight. "Miles got roped into showing this newspaper reporter around. But just for a couple of hours. "

"Oh?" said Ana, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Seriously. Todd Formby, the a-hole - set this up without telling anyone. And Miles was afraid that a day with Todd would not make a good story. He asked me to entertain you, but he promises he will be with you presently. You look cute, by the way."

Ana looked down at herself in the stained and worn clothes. She had noted the bright teal suit the other woman was wearing and her petite, slim figure. Mistake, she thought. I look like some sort of yahoo compared to that. Well, there was nothing to be done but change later as she'd planned.

"Miles asked if we could do some of the work he does for the cook out."

"You might have noticed, I came dressed for it."

Jimmy smiled. "Great. Have you ever driven a tractor?"

Ten minutes later, Ana was learning to drive the old Ford tractor past the winery and toward the vines. Jimmy was riding in a cart hooked to the back. He occasionally shouted things "You can go faster than that!" "Watch out for that rock!" but otherwise seemed to be enjoying the ride. He signaled her to stop in the clearing at the middle of the vines. Jimmy took the driver's seat and maneuvered next to a what Ana initially saw as compost but was in fact a huge pile of grape vine clippings, large and small. At one end of the pile was a pile of short but thick pieces of wood from some type of tree. Ana could see Miles some distance away, at the end of one of the rows of vines. He was holding something up to his face. He said something to the woman, then held the thing up to her eye. Ana could see her almost bounce with delight. She handed the thing back to Miles, then removed her jacket, showing Miles her very revealing red top. She was holding something up to Miles then back to herself, a tape recorder, Ana guessed. Jimmy interrupted Ana's thoughts.

"What we need to do, is to load up the cart with the big vines, like this." He held up a substantial piece, a couple of inches in diameter and about three feet long. " Then, we'll split some of these other logs. 

Ana started rooting through the pile. In spite of herself, she began to enjoy the work. Jimmy was quick to laugh, quick to joke, and quick to make fun of himself. At one point, he pulled a vine from near the bottom of the pile and upset a load of smaller clippings on top of the two of them. After deciding that no one was hurt, he started to stomp on the cuttings, in mock anger, inviting her to join him. 

"Come on, Ana banana. Think of anyone you hate!" Ana realized that she couldn't' come up with anything to be that angry about - the job seemed to be in the distant past, and she had barely given a thought to Greg. But she joined in, laughing along with him. By this time, the sun was getting hot, and Ana was as well. She took off the work shirt and put it over the tractor seat. 

Miles heard the tractor pull up. He watched with some envy as Jimmy and Ana laughed and climbed through the pile of vines. He was supposed to be the one spending time with her, watching her laugh, teaching her how to do things. Instead, he was stuck doing public relations. Not that he minded Cassy, she was had done her research and asked all sorts of questions about why he did things a certain way. She, in turn, had been impressed when he quoted Pliny and Cato about the care of grapes. It also turned out that they shared a passion for an American wine writer, no longer living, called Philip Wagner. She had a great memory for Wagner's theories and practices, and Miles, more than once became quite animated when agreeing or disagreeing with Wagner. But, he kept looking over at the two figures on the wood pile.

Cassy watched Miles eyes wander toward the female figure. She was taller than Cassy, with longish light red hair hanging down her back in a pony tail, lightly muscular and tan. Cassy herself avoided the sun - she didn't particularly like the outdoors, working as much of the time as she could inside climate controlled buildings. In fact, she would have tried to beg off the winery story except that it was getting into the only time of the year she enjoyed outside, the autumn. This woman was much more of an 'outdoors' type, something she could see Miles attracted to.

"Friends of yours?" she asked.

He looked at her, seeing her gesture toward Ana and Jimmy. "Yes."

"She looks pretty. Girlfriend?"

He couldn't suppress a small smile. "Not exactly."

"So, you're available?" Cassy was nothing if not forward.

Miles smiled again and looked right at her. "Not exactly."

"I see," she said. She wasn't about to cut her time short, even knowing that Miles interests lie with this other female. "What's next?"

"Let's do a more....thorough tour of the cellar than Todd had time to give."




In the Vineyard Ch. 06



Miles was still being cautious about what he said to Cassy. 

"Thorough, bullshit! He didn't know didly about this operation, or about wine for that matter. It is painfully obvious that Todd Formby wouldn't be here if he wasn't related to someone!"

Miles gave her a slight smile, but didn't say anything. They started to walk back toward the winery. As they came close to Ana and Jimmy, Miles was relieved that Cassy's cell phone rang. 

"Cassy Combs. Oh, Hi Manny. Walk from the parking lot to the vines. I don't know, ask someone". As Cassy began directing Manny, Miles took the minute to approach Ana.

"Hi," he said to her back. She turned around. Ana acted a little cool, she didn't want him to think he could invite her over, then set her aside. "Hi, yourself," she said. She couldn't help noticing how good he looked, outside with the sun emphasizing the light parts of his hair. 

"Hey, thanks for helping out. I'm sorry about " he gestured toward Cassy. "I didn't have any idea. I'm glad you're here, anyway. I'll get this taken care of as soon as Brandon shows up." He directed a glance at Jimmy. Jimmy was quick to respond. "He's on his way, man. Believe me!" He grinned at Ana. "No hurry, me and Ana banana are having a good time." Miles was about to answer when Cassy came up behind him. "Miles, we can't do the cellar yet. Manny has just arrived and I must have some photos in the vineyard. " She glanced at Jimmy and Ana. "Oh, hello. Manny might want to take your photographs as well. 'The workers in the vineyard.' " She dramatically walked away, hooking Miles arm in at the last minute. He looked back at Ana, partially resigned, partially helpless. She looked away from him and toward Jimmy.

"So, what about splitting these logs?" she asked.

'Manny' Chzyrnowski unloaded his photographic gear from his car. He had, of late, been assigned to follow this bitch, the food and wine writer, who was as demanding of him as she was seductive to her subjects. He had photographed her flirtations with an Austrian Chef, a French wine merchant, and an Iranian grower of exotic produce, to name a few. Once she informed him that visit number two today was cancelled, he knew that there would be some sort of Cassy foreplay, photographic style, to follow. He checked and doubled checked his equipment, and strapped three cameras around his neck - his twenty plus year old fully manual Japanese - his state of the art fully automatic 35mm and his latest in a long line of digital cameras. He also toted a small piece of luggage on wheels - with all of his backups including a fully charged notebook computer for the purpose of unloading and/or editing the digital pics. Manny enjoyed photography, but he hated working with the bitch. In fact, so did everyone at the Messenger, he was convinced he had ended up with her because he was the newest fulltime staff photographer. 

Manny rolled his carry on bag up the rise and down the hill. He had asked a couple of people where the vines were and they all gave him blank stares. He looked around, and determined that there was excess land in one direction only, and there happened to be a path leading that way. He went on through to the clearing, and immediately saw what he thought of as a great photo opportunity. 

An attractive, shapely women, wearing loose jeans and a thin cotton tank top was swinging an axe of sorts into stumps of wood. And, every third hit or so, she succeeded at splitting off chunks of the wood. A short, curly haired man was acting as her coach. Manny took out old faithful, set up the aperture and light meter and started to play with the shutter speed. He angled around a little bit, and ended up with what he thought was a great picture. Ana was in action, swinging the maul, the stump not yet touched, with Jimmy framed, crouching, between the maul and the stump. Manny shot it a couple of times as the maul came down. He shot once at contact, but Ana's stroke was off and the maul bounced uselessly away. Nonetheless, Manny thought he had a good shot somewhere.

Ana barely noticed the photographer as he came out of the woods. He smiled and nodded toward her. Manny, with short, bleached white hair, multiple ear plus one nose ring, was dressed in black baggy nylon pants tucked into high black combat boots, a black cotton shirt worn loosely over a black tee. Ana noted the cameras, and, with some alarm realized that he was taking her picture. What if it was in the paper? And, god forbid, what if her parents saw this? There would be some serious explaining to do. She stopped working on the wood, and handed the maul to Jimmy who took over. As she took off her hat to wipe her forehead - she was beginning to perspire, she realized that, dressed as she was and wearing a hat, no one would recognize her from a photo. Plus, no one would be expecting to see her engaged in such an activity. She decided to leave the photographer alone. 

"Manny, we're over here!" Cassy was yelling and waving. 

"Bitch," muttered Manny under his breath, but loud enough for Ana and Jimmy to hear, and ambled across the clearing towards them. Cassy immediately started directing him - he really hated that, he hadn't gone to college to have some food writer tell him what made a good photograph. It wasn't that she didn't have a good eye, it was just that she had to act like everything was her idea - when he could have just as easily picked out the same shots without her. He took some pictures of bunches of grapes on the vines, Cassy told him she wanted a wide angle shot of as much of the vineyard as he could get - he told her he'd set up to do that after they were through there - he had already planned to take a few shots from the edge of the clearing, but he ideally wanted those pictures to be without people.

Cassy then started posing Miles. Miles with the refractometer - Manny liked that shot, then a series of Miles posing by the vines, and one really contrived shot of Cassy and Miles walking toward the camera, Cassy pretending to record their discussion. Manny could sense that Cassy was having great fun, but Miles was losing patience. He kept looking back toward the two figures working with wood. When the tractor started again, Miles moved to see what was happening, ruining Manny's picture. 

"OK," said Manny. "Break time. I need to change film." He actually had one, maybe two pictures left, but he had a sense that he'd already gotten the best of Miles he was going to get in posed pictures. "Tell you what, dude," he said to Miles. "I'm going to take my pictures of the landscape here, then how about if I just wander around and shoot whatever. I usually get better results when we don't try to pose everything." Miles was all too happy to agree, and Cassy, also sensing Miles' boredom with this process, didn't argue. 

"Back to the cellar," she said cheerily. Miles looked at his watch. It was not quite noon. He'd do a quick tour of the cellar and hope that Brandon showed up soon. They walked back toward the winery, leaving Manny behind setting his tripod. Ana and Jimmy were nowhere to be seen, Miles guessed that they were going through the storage room to get supplies for the cookout. They reached the parking lot, and Cassy headed toward her car. 

"Must change my shoes," she called back to Miles. Miles noted with some amusement a much older version of the same station wagon parked next to Cassy's. It was dirtier, the body rougher, and black compared to Cassy's silver version. Miles guess it was Manny's - official company vehicle, he said to himself.

Cassy came back, wearing the teal and red pumps. "I could use a break," she said. "Too much walking, too much information." Miles nodded in understanding. Maybe Brandon would show up soon and he could take over the cellar tour, too. Cassy sat on a bench near the parking lot. 

"Can I get you some water?" Miles asked. She looked at her watch. "Its almost noon. Some white wine would be nice."

"Of course," Miles said. He went up into the winery. The door was unlocked, normal opening time on Saturdays was noon. Scott, the artist, and another young woman were preparing the tasting areas and straightening up the retail stock.

"Scott, Brandon's coming in early. He should be here any minute. In fact, when you see him, tell him to find me. Oh, and there's some photographer wandering around - the wine writer from the Messenger is here."

"Cool," said Scott. "Maybe they'll want to shoot my display." 

"Maybe. As far as I'm concerned, he can shoot whatever he likes as long as he stays away from me. I already spent enough time posing!" Miles went back behind the largest of the tasting bars and got into a small refrigerator underneath. He found a half full bottle of Chardonnay and sat it on the counter. "Hey, Scott. Will you input this? One half bottle reserve Chardonnay, promode for The Messenger." 

Scott typed in the information in the computer which also served as the cash register. Miles picked up a couple of clean glasses out of the dishwasher, also behind the tasting bar, and sat them next to the wine. He came around from behind the bar and picked up the wine in one hand, the glasses in another. He started out the door, but saw Todd coming up the stairs to the entrance. Not wanting to get into a discussion about Cassy, Miles turned back and went out the back door, down the stairs to the cellar. He stopped by the storage room. Sure enough, there were Ana and Jimmy. Jimmy saw him first. "Miles. You brought us a drink!" 

"Not exactly," Miles said. He saw a distant look on Ana's face. "Your buddy hasn't shown up, and Cassy wanted some white wine. " He was beginning to get concerned about Ana. "Jimmy, you guys can help yourselves to whatever, you know that. Just keep track of it."

"I know, man. I just wanted to harass you. I'll tell you Miles, it's a good thing that we have only one more week of cook outs. We're running low on stuff like table cloths and napkins. I guess we're not getting to the red wine stains quick enough. " 

"I'll look into it. Better yet, why don't you ask Todd to do a study on this. Sounds like the kind of thing he'd have fun with." Miles stepped into the storeroom. Ana seemed intent on counting out place settings. He could tell she was feeling slighted. And, he didn't blame her - today was supposed to be a continuation of last night, an opportunity for them to continue to get to know one another. "Hey, you," he said, standing right behind her. She turned and he pressed against her until she couldn't go back any further, he back was against a set of wire shelving. Miles sat the wine and glasses down on a shelf to his side. He took her hands, and leaned into her, kissing her on the lips. She at first kept her mouth closed, but he pressed harder, and she finally relented and relaxed. Miles tongue was going all around her mouth, and his hands were climbing up her arms, rubbing the front of her. He could feel her breasts through the thin tank top. She started to feel a little dizzy, then realizing that Jimmy was in the room, she put her arms up on Miles' shoulders and pushed him lightly away. He stopped and looked at her. She was looking to see if Jimmy was watching. Miles laughed. "Don't mind him. He's harmless." 

She laughed back. He was glad she wasn't angry. "I guess I started to get carried away. Sorry."

"My god, you guys are embarrassing me. My virgin eyes!" exclaimed Jimmy in mock alarm.

Miles picked up the wine and glasses. "Business before pleasure," he said. He looked intently at Ana. "I'll make this up to you, I promise. You don't know what it means to me that you came out here today." 

"Yeah, sure, it gets you out of doing the work," Jimmy said.

"You're fired," said Miles.

"You can't fire me, I quit!" Jimmy responded. Ana could tell that this was an ongoing joke between the two of them, they were clearly best friends and relied on each other. 

"I'll consider this your notice, then."

"That's right, I'm giving you two...years' notice." They both laughed, and Miles went out the door. Ana and Jimmy resumed gathering up the place settings and other supplies for the cook out. 

"We're almost done," Jimmy said. We just stick this stuff out in the shelter house in boxes, and the staff who come in later to wait tables do all of the set up. We can load up the grill with that wood, but that's about it. Until later. We have two seatings, one at 6 and one at 7:30, Miles will start building the fire at 5:30 or so. Then he and I usually cook the steaks, and he mingles around for awhile. We clear the first crowd out around seven, actually, we try to funnel as many as possible inside to go through a full tasting. We like to do it after people eat, less chance of any driving problems, but we also give free drinks, water juice, soda, to designated drivers and kids. Then, after we clear out seating number 2, at 8:30 or so, we cook steaks for the help and for ourselves. The workers inside take turns, but they eat during the first seating, so they can be ready to run through tastings once its over. And, we have music and other entertainment in the amphitheater starting at five o'clock, for the early shows and for people who just want to come out an picnic with a bottle of wine."

Ana nodded. She had wondered what to expect, it sounded like it would be a busy evening for Miles. But there would be people around and lots of activity. And, she wasn't going to let him think that she needed to be the center of attention all of the time. After all, part of what she admired about Miles was his commitment to his work. And, based on what she just saw, he wasn't afraid to show his feelings for her in front of others.

Miles emerged from beneath the winery with the half bottle and two glasses. 

"You took a while," Cassy noted. 

"Sorry. I got hung up with Jimmy. Jimmy Beaumont. He's sort of my right hand man here. Some deal about table cloths for the cook out tonight."

"That's right, you do all sorts of events here. You'll have to go through that with me later on." Miles realized that Cassy was in no hurry at all to move on. 

"Actually, there is some stuff I have to do before the cook out. If I had known you were coming, of course, I would have worked something out. Anyway, when Brandon gets here, Todd's brother," seeing her face, he added "total opposite of Todd. You'll like him. Everybody does. Any way, I'm gong to have Brandon spend some time with you while I take care of things."

"What about these cook outs? Is there room for Manny and I to stay? We planned on spending the day here. That would make a great wrap up to my story."

Miles tried to hide his disappointment as he poured the glasses full of wine. "Uh, I'll check." What was he going to do if she stayed around all day and this evening too? Promoting the winery was one thing, but he deserved some time to himself. Especially now that he finally met a woman he might really get serious about. No, he corrected himself, not 'might,' he was already serious about Ana. Every time he saw her, every time he was near her, he couldn't help being drawn to her, like a magnet. He was getting to the point where he couldn't imagine not being able to be with her. He cursed Todd one more time, and started to drink the wine. 

Jimmy and Ana came walking out, carrying boxes of supplies over to the shelter house. They passed close by and Miles gave a soft whistle. He was past the point of caring about Cassy Combs, it sounded like no matter what he did, he would have trouble shaking her today. And, he wanted to make certain Ana knew he was aware of her. At the sound, Jimmy looked back, "Oh, you silly boy!" Miles and Jimmy laughed, and Cassy joined in. Ana didn't acknowledge the exchange, she felt uncomfortable and awkward around the immaculately dressed reporter. 

Cassy finished her glass of wine and divided the rest of the bottle between hers and Miles' glasses. "its very good. More European style than California or Australia."

"That's what I try for. I think that the oaky-buttery thing has become too cliché."

"I'm frankly surprised that you make as much dry wine as you do. My impression of wineries in this state was that they made nothing but sweet wines."

"That's the impression a lot of people have. And, I do my best to overcome it."

Miles was more comfortable now, talking about his passion. Cassy noted this as well. She would get far more attention from Miles Delong if she stuck more to talking about wine and less about other things. And, now that she'd decided to sty through the evening, she was determined to get and keep as much of his attention as she could.

"Lets go to the cellar," Cassy suggested. Seeing Todd coming out the front door of the winery, Miles quickly agreed. "You can bring the glass along. We'll taste some of the works in progress." Todd barely missed running into Manny who was going up the steps, laden with cameras and rolling bag. Todd started to say something to Manny, he looked at him with disapproval, then noted the camera and guessed who it must be. He extended a hand. "Todd Formby. CEO of Creek Valley Winery." Manny took the hand and shook it. "I'm Manny Czyrnowski, from The Messenger."

"Just let me know if you need anything. I'm happy to pose." Manny knew this type, he wanted his picture in the paper, a contrast to the winemaker who, though a good subject, seemed a little annoyed by the camera. Manny figured he'd better take this picture and get it over with. "Yeah, Todd, cool. In fact, you stand right there, in front of the door. By the sign. Yeah, that's great." Manny took several quick shots. People like Todd were usually mad if they didn't run their picture, but Manny found that they were often less mad if he printed out a copy and mailed it to them. Who knows, maybe there would be room for this Todd thing. The way Cassy was acting, she wanted to make this winery alone the main piece in the mid week food and drink section. That would mean most of the cover page of the section, plus several column inches on page two or three. And, just from his limited time at the paper, he would say that Cassy often got her way. She seemed to have some in with the editor. He snorted at the thought. More than likely she was doing him. Manny thanked Todd and went inside. He saw Scott, who he recognized as an art major from college. Scott, likewise had seen Manny before. 

"Hey, man, do you guys have any beer?" Manny asked.

"Nope. Just wine. Didn't you graduate last year?"

"Yeah. What's cold and wet?"

"Come on over to the bar. I'll set you up." Manny walked over to the bar and piled up his stuff. He sat on a stool, and Scott got several bottles out of the refrigerator, plus two glasses. "How did you manage a job with the Messenger?"

"Right place, right time. But, this bitch I gotta work with, she's something else."

Scott started pouring tastes for Manny, with a little shot for himself. "Cheers!" he said. 

"Yeah, whatever," said Manny, taking a drink.

Todd walked down the steps from the winery just in time to see Miles and Cassy disappearing into the cellar. The overhead door came down. He started to get angry, then spotted Ana in the shelter house. Jimmy had just excused himself to call Brandon, he knew that Miles wasn't going to be happy if he couldn't pass the reporter off to someone soon. Jimmy considered volunteering to assist himself, but he decided that he was too dirty from working in the wood pile all morning. And, his dry sense of humor wasn't as attractive to people as Brandon's charm. Todd came up to the shelter house.

"Ms. Palmer, how delightful to see you." Ana was relieved that he didn't ask her why she was there, or why she was helping Jimmy set up for tonight.

"Hello, Todd." Ana was actually almost happy to see him. She was tired of the work and beginning to be bored.

"You look tired. Allow me to offer you a break, and a drink."




In the Vineyard Ch. 06



"Well, I'm not on the payroll here, so I guess I can take a break whenever I like."

"Good. We have a nice seat on the deck area up there." He pointed to the raised deck built over the top of part of the cellar. 

"Looks great. I would like to freshen up a little."

"Come with me, I'll show you the facilities. Then I'll select something cold and white, and we can sit out and enjoy the view."

By this time, customers were starting to show up, people were milling around, walking in and out of the winery. Todd and Ana walked up and in. Manny had by this time had his fill of wine and was wandering around, taking pictures of whatever caught his eye. Todd, concerned that some of the customers might be upset by the camera, even the photographer himself, with his multiple piercing, showed Manny the cellar door. Todd opened a full bottle of chilled white wine - he opted for a light and fruity blend - which he found more appealing at this point than something like a Chardonney. Todd went through the glass doors on to the deck, and Ana joined him in a minute. Todd was right, it was a nice view, and he was on his best possible behavior, being as polite and tactful as possible. Todd spoke about his wife and his daughters - he carried multiple pictures of them and Ana decided that maybe he wasn't so bad after all. 

Manny clumped noisily down the stairs toward the cellar. Miles was relieved to see him, Cassy was becoming more and more forward in the quiet of the cellar. She had started to become physical, touching Miles hands, his shoulder, at any opportunity. "Manny," said Miles. "Where've you been?" Manny was a little surprised by Miles' friendliness, but he quickly figured out that this Miles guy wasn't interested in being alone with Cassy Combs. "Hey, dude, I missed you too. I was hangin' with Scott, who goes to my alma mater." Miles could tell that Manny was mildly drunk. Oh, well, he had sensed the tension between reporter and photographer, and he was glad to have the diversion that Manny provided. 

"Let me show you some of the barrels," Miles said. He looked at Cassy, not wanting to make her angry. "Is that OK? Do you want pictures of the oak barrels?"

Cassy was annoyed by being interrupted by this drunken Manny. But, she wasn't getting anywhere with Miles and that was also annoying. "Yes, that's fine. You know, I should go find Todd again, otherwise he may be a little upset with me. I told him I would come and find him again."

Miles was torn - should he let her leave and chance Todd leaving a bad impression, or should he ask her to stay? What he really needed was Brandon!

"Todd's busy," said Manny, before Miles could speak. "He's got that wood chop chick to have some wine with him."

Oh, shit, Miles thought. What happened to Jimmy?

Jimmy came back to the shelter house to find Ana gone. He didn't have to look far, he spotted her on the upper deck with Todd. They seemed to be having a good time. Just then, Brandon pulled up, loud rock and roll music blasting from his car stereo.'

"Where've you been? I just called you."

"Sorry, man. I fell back asleep after you left. I'm ready now. " Brandon was wearing one of his favorite outfits - a western-styled dress shirt made from a print fabric featuring cowboys in various poses on horses, dark blue boot cut jeans, and pointy toed lizard patterned western boots. "Where is she? Is it Cassy Combs?"

Earlier that morning, Brandon, Brandon had asked the name of the reporter, which Jimmy didn't know. Brandon turned out to be a regular reader of Cassy's columns in the Wednesday papers. He was even what you might call a fan.

"Yeah, that's who it is. With some photographer."

"Did you see the article she did on hunting wild mushrooms earlier this year? It was a real masterpiece. Oh, and her visit to France - my mouth just watered when I read her descriptions of food. She has a way of making everything sound so...sensual. I can't believe you don't remember her columns. I'm certain I've read some of them to you."

"She'll be glad to meet you. You could be president of her fan club. I think they're in the cellar."

Brandon turned and walked. Jimmy stared back at Todd and Ana. Miles was going to blame him for this. 

Miles was trying to think of some excuse to get away from Cassy and the newly friendly Manny when, to his relief, he heard the sound of footsteps. "Anybody here?" asked a voice that sounded like Brandon's.

"We're back here, near the oak barrels. As Brandon neared, Miles tried to think of an excuse for a quick exit. He didn't need to worry.

"Cassy Combs!" Brandon absolutely burst into the room with energy. "I'm so, so, so glad to meet you in person. And so pleased to have the opportunity to spend some time with you!"

Cassy was taken aback. She eyed Brandon to see if he was pulling her leg. Satisfied that he was for real, she extended her hand. Brandon took it, gave it a quick kiss, and spread his arms. "May I embrace you? I feel like I've known you forever." Cassy nodded, and Brandon clasped her close, pecking her on each cheek. He dropped his arms and stepped back. "Your picture doesn't do you justice. My, you are lovely."

Miles was suddenly reminded of the fact that Brandon had been a theater major before flunking out of college. Cassy was beginning to be enthralled, and Brandon began quoting from her most recent columns. Miles excused himself with barely any notice from the others. Brandon would keep her occupied for ages, he thought with some pleasure, mounting the steps leading back into the retail portion of the winery building. 

Miles went out the door and spotted Jimmy without Ana. He waved and headed toward him, noting that Jimmy didn't look especially happy to see him.

"Hey, man, its not my fault. I left for a few seconds, to find out where the hell Brandon was."

"What isn't your fault?"

"Look up."

Miles followed Jimmy's pointing arm to see Todd Formby and Ana on the upper deck, laughing and drinking glasses of wine. Miles looked back at Jimmy, but didn't say anything. He started back through the winery. 

"Ana, you are delightful," Todd said. "Bright, funny, attractive. It's such a pity."

Unseen by Todd and Ana, Miles opened the door to the deck. He stopped and listened before intruding.

Ana was taken by surprise. "You feel sorry for me?"

"Ana, Ana. A woman as sophisticated as you should know better." He leaned closer. The wine was having a loosening effect. "I know why you're here. And, for your sake, for the sake of my business associate and good friend Greg Romano, I am compelled to speak with you. Do you know anything about this Miles character you are involving yourself with? " Without waiting for her answer he added, "Do you know the truth about my poor misguided brother and Jimmy Beaumont? Ana" He clicked his tongue. "What type of a crowd have you gotten yourself involved with? Of course, I have never had the pleasure of meeting your parents, but, believe me, I am quite tempted to have a discussion with Chester Van Meter about my concerns. " He gave her what he thought was a fatherly look. "For your own sake, of course"

Ana looked at him sharply. Todd had suddenly gone from charming to almost offensive. She said, icily, "I believe I know all there is to know about Miles Delong. And, I am grown up enough to pick my own friends." She was growing angry as his words sunk in. 'And, for you to speak that way about your own brother! He's entitled to live his life his way. " She took a quick drink. "Frankly, if Brandon and Jimmy are in love and treat each other well, which is how it appears to me, then they are so much better off than so many of the so called normal couples in the world!" She finished the glass of wine. "Thanks, Todd for the break. I'm certain my time would be better spend somewhere else right now."

Miles closed the door quietly and walked back into the winery. Scott watched him with some amusement. He looked at Scott. 

"Not a word. I just came in here to check on sales so far today. That's all." 

"Whatever, man. You're the boss."

Ana stood up and slammed the glass down on the table. She turned around and walked through the glass door, still angry. She didn't even see Miles and started toward the front door. 

"Ana," he called. She turned. "I finally have a break." He could see that she was still upset, but he decided to ignore it. "Would you like something cold?"

She was fighting back tears. "I'm fine, thanks. I don't need a drink, not now."

She was still standing near the door. Miles looked around, just a few people milling about, no real crowd. He walked over to her. "I missed you. Its' been what, at least an hour." She smiled in spite of herself. "At least," she said. "Miles, I was talking to Todd, and he was such a....."

Miles took his finger and put it across her mouth. "No talk of Todd. I don't care. And, you can't come up with any insult I haven't used a few hundred times myself. Agree?" She nodded and he moved his finger. "I know a better use for those lips." He leaned down and started to kiss her. She pulled away. "What will people think? " She whispered. "We're in a public place!"

He leaned toward her and whispered back, "They'll think I can't keep my hands off you. And, I don't care if everyone knows that." He raised his voice as he spoke and people started to look. He went back to kissing Ana, and she let him, this time. She was intent on the kiss when a bright light shone for a second.

"Gotcha!" It was Manny, with a flash camera. He had just come up the steps from the cellar. Miles looked up initially upset, but seeing it was Manny, kept himself in check. He was developing some liking for Manny, who he saw as genuine, albeit weird. "Hey, my man, Miles. The bitch, I mean, Cassy, she wants some pics of the cute winemaker" he stopped and pointed," that would be him," he explained to Ana," by those oak barrels. "And, I've got to be honest with you man, I can make it look beautiful. I wouldn't lie to you, man. Give me ten, fifteen, and we're through. " He looked at Miles with a knowing glance. "That fag, I mean, that guy you hooked her up with, she's crazy for him. Before you think anything, I am as politically correct as the next person. I don't care who does who, as long as they don't make me watch. Anyway, she is just mooning over that dude. Let's get these photos over with, then you can go back to tasting you luscious lady there. " He looked at Ana with an admiring glance. "I'll bring him right back to you, don't you worry," he winked at her. Ana couldn't help liking Manny. Despite his punk and worldly appearance, he had a natural honesty that was charming. 

Miles looked at Ana. "I won't go, if you say. I don't want to get caught up with Cassy again."

Manny broke in. "Man, I'm telling you. Its under control. I won't let you let your lady down."

Ana nodded at Manny. "Don't worry, Miles. I'll be waiting." Miles gave her another quick kiss and walked away with Manny. 

Ana went back outside, and regretted not getting Miles' key. She would have liked to start a shower. Jimmy accosted her.

"Hey Ana banana. I saw you leave Todd pretty quick like.

"Don't get me started. What a Jeckyl and Hyde character. If I don't see him for a year, it will be too soon!"

Jimmy tried to be casual. "So, did Miles find you?"

"He has to do a few more pictures. But the reporter really likes Brandon." She looked at Jimmy, laughing. "At this point, you should be more worried than me. I understand that he's pushing all of her buttons."

Jimmy laughed back. "He's good at that. " He looked serious. "Brandon is a great with all sorts of people. He's a natural charmer. Part of what I like about him. I, myself, am more of an acquired taste."

"I like you just fine. Just the way you are." 

Ana didn't realize at first that she had quoted a song title. Jimmy started to hum, and she tried to stop him. "No, I didn't mean it sappy like that. I meant that you are a really nice guy. " She saw him making faces. "You have been to me, anyway." Ana had a sudden thought. "Hey, do you want to really help me out? Do you have a key to Miles place? I mean where he lives, not his office?"

"But of course.'

"Seriously?"

"Who do you think cleans up the place after those while parties?" Jimmy looked sheepish. "Did you hear about that?"

"Yes, of course. I heard all about the poker party and its after effects. And," she looked at Jimmy purposefully, "I know all about Miles Davis Delong."

Jimmy nodded. "I'm glad he finally told someone. He didn't even tell me. I got it from Brandon, who got it from Todd, then I asked Jack enough questions to get the story straight."

"Todd just alluded to something. And, come to think of it, so has Greg. How do they know, if Miles hasn't told anyone? Miles said that someone was trying to get information about him - did he mean Todd or Greg?""

Maybe I shouldn't speak out of turn."

"Speak, Jimmy. You are my pipeline to the truth."

"Ok, here's the deal. After the winery took off, after Miles, and with the help of your humble servant, it started to make a profit, a serious one, Todd, who was prior to that time working hard to be a professional leach, " Jimmy couldn't hide his disdain for an instant, "Todd hired a professional detective, and I like the old movie jargon, a 'dick' to investigate Miles. Todd went to his father with 'the facts' but his father aced him. He already knew more of the facts than Todd's dick had uncovered. " Jimmy stopped. "I liked the sound of that. More than Todd's dick uncovered." He looked at Ana. "I always wondered how he had those kids anyway. Todd looks to me like a guy whose dick doesn't work at all. But I digress...So, Todd tried to get rid of Miles then, but it didn't work. But he did insist, and his father agreed, you know, love is blind, that they go through the books monthly in case there were discrepancies. There your buddy Greg comes in. So, each month, Todd, Greg, Jack and Miles go through the books. And, believe me, Todd questions every expense, and tries to take anything 'unnecessary' out of Miles' percentage. At first, Miles went along, trying to be cool, but then he realized that Todd was screwing him out of his money. So, now, Miles doesn't spend money without a prior vote. So there are no monthly surprises. That's why we didn't get our replacement must pump. We had agreement for a certain dollar amount - if we had gone beyond that and bought a new one, believe me, Todd would have taken it in total out of Miles' money."

"So, what do you get?"

Jimmy looked embarrassed. "I don't really need the money. I did this at first for fun, then later, I kept hanging around 'cause of Brandon. Now, it's sort of become a second home for me. Hey, I've got those keys. Take my advice, move your car over to the other lot. Do you know where it is?"

Ana nodded. 

"Meet me over there in a minute."

Ana got into her car and drove across the parking lot, parking next to Miles' truck. Jimmy was already there, and opened the front door.

"You'll be ok? I don't want to leave my keys. Can you stay inside until Miles gets here? He doesn't like to leave the door unlocked."

"I can use the time to get cleaned up. I hope he's not too long."

"I think he'll get away as fast as he can. I'll see you a little later on."

Ana carried her overnight bag inside, then realized that she didn't even know where the shower was. It couldn't be upstairs where the bed was, the loft area was small and had no sign of a doorway. On an impulse, Ana checked the kitchen. There was a door beyond the cabinets. She opened it and found a small but functional bathroom with a tile walled shower in the corner. There were multiple hooks for clothes, a small shelf unit stocked with towels and washcloths, and a mirror hanging over the sink. As she opened the shower door to start the water, she saw another small extendable mirror inside the shower itself. Shaving mirror, she thought. Even though Miles doesn't seem to spend much time at that. 

She pictured him as she had seen him most often, with a few days growth of beard, although he did keep it neatly shaped. She had never been attracted to men with facial hair, but the blondish mustache seemed to fit Miles face. And, she like the feeling of it when he kissed her, or when he had moved his mouth around her other body parts...Ana started to drift back to last night's activities, then forced herself to think about the present. She remembered the wine in the cooler, and went back out of the bathroom. Leaving the door open, she removed the cooler from her car and carried it inside, locking the door behind her. She put the bottle in the refrigerator, and dumped the ice, now mostly water, into the sink. The shower was still running, and she unpacked her dress and draped it on a hook. It was a made of a sheer, gauzy cotton fabric, and the steam from the shower would remove any of the irregular wrinkles. Ana undressed, folding her clothes and placing them in a plastic bag she'd brought for her clothes. She would carry them back to her car after the shower, she didn't want to leave any sign of a mess in the sparsely furnished living space. A real bachelor pad, she thought to herself, and wondered if Miles would ever be the type of man to want to get married, and start a family. She surprised herself with that thought - she, who was determined to put career first and wouldn't even discuss having children with Greg. Maybe, she reflected, it made a difference whose children. She shook her head and stepped into the shower. Soap and shampoo were on a hanging rack. She wet her hair first, then rinsed the sweat and grime from her body - working with the vines and the wood left her feeling pretty dirty.

Miles extracted himself from this photo session with minimal difficulty. Even as he was posing for the photos, he could hear Brandon cooing over Cassy.

"Now, what did you think of those? One with oak, and one without. Everything else the same, same vintage, all pressed together, but then separated into oak barrels or stainless. And, that was not French oak, by the way. We like to use American, in fact the cooperage is only about a hundred miles away." Brandon interrupted his wine talk. "You know, Cassy, I wanted to tell you something. Your columns from San Francisco a couple of years ago. I personally never wanted to go to California, but you absolutely inspired me, so I went last spring. And, I had just a fabulous time!"

"Where all did you go?"

Brandon listed off places, all of which she seemed to know intimately, including the chefs and the menus at the restaurants, various artist and literary figures, wine store owners and the like. She was clearly enjoying the attention, and Brandon seemed to be genuine. He could be charming in normal circumstances, but he was really on right now. And, Cassy found the mix of wine information and praise for her work more enjoyable than the tour by itself.

Manny nodded at Miles. "You're done, man. That's what I need . He began folding up his tripod and putting cameras into various cases. "I'll finish up at the cookout." He looked at Cassy. "Hey, Cass. We're on for eating at the second sitting so we photo the first, right?"

Cassy was in mid sentence with Brandon. She looked mildly annoyed, the replied, "That's right. Oh, and Brandon, but the way, I'd prefer not to make the long drive back home - I live on the far north end of the city. Is there anywhere around here to stay?"

Brandon nodded. "There are all flavors of chain motels a few miles away, nearer campus. But, there are also a couple of bed and breakfasts, if you're a little more...adventurous. I'd be happy to make some calls for you."

"Great, " Cassy said. Miles was not particularly pleased to hear that she'd would possibly be around all evening, but it did seem that things with Brandon were going well. Better an interference for him and Jimmy than me and Ana, he thought. After all, they practically live together and this is still sort of my first date. He excused himself and went back through the cellar. He stopped on the way at a wine rack with a padlock on the front. It was a rack of some of Miles' private stock. He unlocked the door and removed a bottle of wine. Dusting it off, he noted the marker written label - Marsanne, last year's aged in stainless steel, not oak. He had just a few vines of Marsanne and usually used the small amount of wine for blending. He had made a few gallons of it straight last year, and found it enjoyable although he still thought it could use improvement. Of course, Miles thought to himself, he thought everything could use improvement. He locked the rack and went back to the winery retail area. There were a number of people milling about, and Scott was going through a tasting with about ten people. Miles stopped and Scott introduced him as the winemaker. Miles shook hands all around, then answered some questions for a few minutes. He was getting edgy at this point, worried about Ana, and excused himself. 




In the Vineyard Ch. 07



Ana descended the stairs and went into the bathroom, taking another quick shower. Miles suggested that they shower apart – he said he was afraid that they'd never leave if they took another shower together. Ana carried her clothes down, the green gauze dress and dark green lace bra and underpants. After she was done in the shower, she found a hairdryer on the towel rack. Miles came in as she was drying her hair. He liked the way the outline of the lace bra showed under the lighter colored dress. He also noticed the button front on the dress, and looked forward to taking it off, button by button, later that night.

"I'm sorry to rinse off the smell of Ana," he said as he went into the shower. "But I broke a sweat. I'd feel self conscious if I didn't clean up." He started the shower and opened the door. Ana finished drying her hair. She left it full and wavy. 

"I'm going to get my makeup." She said.

"You don't need any," said Miles. "You're beautiful no matter what!"

"Flattery," she said smiling. "But, it's working." She went out of the bathroom and found her cosmetic case. She applied a light amount of blush, a small touch of eye shadow in the outer corners of her eyes, and a slight amount of mascara. She found a sheer lipstick and applied it. Miles was out of the shower and running the blow dryer. Ana put her shoes on. Miles came out of the bathroom, dry and naked. 

"I hope you don't mind this. It's a habit. I like to hang around like this, at least when its warm out."

"No, not at all. In fact, I like to do the same, when I'm alone."

"Much more fun when you're not alone!"

Ana laughed. 

"If you're all ready, you can go on out. I mean, if you're afraid that it's obvious, or whatever."

"More like you don't want Miss reporter to see you with another woman," she said, with some humor in her voice.

"I doubt it. In fact, anything that makes her more likely to leave, is, well, better than anything that makes her more likely to stay!" He looked serious. "Ana, really, that is just business. I don't want you to think for a minute that I care for any woman in the world but you. Cassy Combs could come in here stark naked, and I couldn't stop looking at you."

Ana raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Well, Ok. I 'd at least look at her. But not for long. Don't tell anyone this, but she's really not my type."

"What is your type?"

"Um. Hard to describe." He looked up and down Ana. "Or maybe not. About 5'6", reddish hair, long lean body with nice breasts". He leaned forward and touched them. "Intelligent, articulate, and capable of hard work." He leaned back and looked her over, top to bottom. "I'd say you're it. One of a kind." He looked at her, questioning. "So, Ana. I've done it. Define your type. Let me help….successful, clean cut, corporate type…"

"Miles, that's not fair."

"So, enlighten me. I'd bet you never imagined yourself with me."

"But I didn't really know you."

"Know me? Or know what I used to be?" He had a serious, questioning look on his face. "Come on, Ana, tell me."

"The truth? Miles, I didn't care where you came from or what you were running from. " 

He raised his eyebrows.

"Believe me, Uncle Chester keyed me into the fact that you had some sort of 'mysterious' past. He also warned me the weekend before I laid eyes on you that you were a lady killer of sorts. And, while I might have been curious, I certainly didn't have any interest based on that. Besides, there was still Greg." She remembered that she hadn't yet told Miles that she had broken up with Greg. "But, Miles what I found attractive wasn't what I expected. I mean, it wasn't that you were dangerous, or mysterious, it was that you had so much love and passion for what you did. " She looked at him. "It didn't hurt that you seemed to find me attractive, too."

"I did. And still do." He kissed her on the check. "Again, no more serious talk. Including amateur analysis. I'm going to get dressed. Why don't you go out and wander around? The music starts at five – it's a couple of minutes to. And, please let Jimmy know I'm on my way. You should see him around the grill somewhere."

Ana nodded. "I'll see you soon." Miles smiled. "You bet. You're not getting away from me for at least the next 24 hours. Maybe longer!"

Ana walked out of Miles' front door. She didn't see anyone near, but could see that the parking lot was filling up with cars. And she heard the sounds of guitars tuning up over a loud speaker system. She could hear an amplified voice saying, 'testing, testing.' She headed toward the main winery building, intending to cut over to the stage. As she approached, she thought she saw a familiar looking person. It couldn't be, she thought to herself. As Ana approached, a blond curly haired figure in a floral print dress happened to turn and look her way.

"Surprise!" said Mary Pringle. She was flanked by figures Ana soon recognized – Veronica and Chris, with Alicia holding her mother's hand.

Ana couldn't suppress a grin. "You guys had to come and check up on me, didn't you?"

Mary laughed. "Vern and I made our reservations the other night. We decided no matter what, we needed to check this place, especially this Miles person out. Where is he, by the way?"

Before she thought about it, Ana replied "He's getting dressed." Vern and Mary looked at each other making some encouraging sounds. Chris looked as if he wished he wasn't there. Noting this, Veronica said," Why don't you take Alicia over there where the music is. Then we can have a few minutes of girl talk." Chris looked thankful and took Alicia's hand. "Come with Daddy, sweetheart"

As soon as they were out of earshot, Veronica started. "So, what happened? Did he show up? Did he spend the night? What about today? What happened today? What do you mean 'he's getting dressed?'"

Ana smiled. She was glad to see her friends. In some way, their' presence made the whole situation seem more real. And, she would value their impressions of Miles. She was afraid that she was being swept away by the physical and the emotional parts of her being, without using her logic or intellect.

"Lets just say that after some initial obstacles, we got along well. And still are."

Mary looked at Ana closely. "I'd say you got along within the past hour, judging from the glow." Ana couldn't hide a little grin. "So, when do we get to meet Mr. Wonderful in person?"

Before Ana could respond, another person joined their group. 

"Hey, I know you. I took your picture a couple of times today." It was Manny, minus his rolling bag, but with two cameras strapped around his neck. "We haven't officially met. I'm Manny. And you are…" Manny extended his hand toward Ana's, but his eyes lit on Mary Pringle and stuck. 

"Ana . " Noting Manny's focus, she gestured toward her friends. "Veronica. And Mary." 

Manny grinned. "Hi, Mary. And Veronica. I work for the Messenger. Photographer, features section. I'm here with Cassy Combs. We're profiling the winery for this Wednesday's food section." Manny, for a change sounded serious. Ana noticed that he had changed his clothes. He had traded the tee shirt and nylon pants for a light weight sweater, and cuffed dress pants, also black. The combat boots had been exchanged for a pair of square toed black lace up shoes. 

Ana looked around for Cassy but didn't see her. She tried to sound nonchalont. "So, you're staying around for awhile?"

"Yeah. Me and the, …I mean me and Cassy took rooms down the road at some bed and breakfast place." Manny sounded like himself again. Realizing this, he went back into the serious voice. " Cassy and I always travel prepared to spend the night when we leave town. Just in case the story warrants it." He couldn't help himself and became Manny again. "And, the…, I mean Cassy wants to party tonight!" He laughed and looked back at Mary. Mary noticed that this somewhat strange looking young man seemed to be interested in her. She wasn't sure what to make of it, but she dreaded the prospect of being a fifth wheel with Vern and Chris, Ana and Miles. What the hey, she thought. No ring. He must be single. And, hopefully college educated, if he's a photographer for the paper. 
"What kind of cameras do you have there?" Mary asked Manny.

"Do you like photography? " he asked her back. "I've got a shit load of stuff with me." He looked up. "Sorry. You know, in the newspaper business, you tend to pick up some bad language."

"I bet," said Mary. "You can't fool me. I'm a teacher. I've heard it all."
 Seeing his surprised expression, she added. "And used it all. What do you think teachers' say to each other, when they're in the teachers' lounge? All we do is smoke and cuss." Manny looked relieved. "Come on. I'll give you a demo. Then I'll take your picture." Mary started off with Manny, walking toward the parking lot. "Don't worry about me, girls. I'll be back before its time to eat!" 

Manny and Mary passed Cassy, who had just arrived. She, too had cleaned up and changed. She was wearing a tightly fitted red dress and carrying a red fringed shawl. She had the same turquoise and red shoes and hand bag. "Have you seen Brandon?" Cassy asked Manny. She glanced at Mary Pringle but didn't say anything to her. Manny shook his head. "What about Miles?" 

"Nope," said Manny. But his friend's over there." He pointed back toward Ana. Cassy walked past without another word.

"Tell me, Manny," said Mary, "what is it you really call her? The..?"

Manny started laughing. "You can guess," he said.

Cassy Combs tried to decide if she wanted to approach Ana. She had a feeling that Ana would know where to find Miles, but she didn't particularly want to defer to Ana. She enjoyed her ability to control things, at least temporarily. She was spared any further deliberation by the approach of Miles. He had cleaned up, too, she noticed, his hair still damp, he was wearing loose khaki slacks and an off white button down shirt decorated with the Creek Valley Winery logo.

"Miles!" Cassy squealed, as if they were long lost lovers. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see with satisfaction that Ana was looking their way. Miles looked up at his name, and looked around. Seeing Ana in conversation with a woman he didn't recognize, he decided he could spare a few seconds.

"Hi, Cassy. You look great! Did you guys find a place to stay?"
"Oh, yes. Brandon is such a dear! He set us up in the cutest little bed and breakfast, very old fashioned and charming, but with all of the modern conveniences, you know, bathrooms for each room. And, thank you. I was glad to have the chance to clean up. We always leave town prepared to stay, just in case things become….you know… interesting….."

Miles felt Cassy focusing on him and tried to steer her away.

"Have you seen Brandon?" he asked.

"Not since I got back. But, I'm sure I'll run into him eventually."
"I can have him paged." Miles started to walk forward. He noticed both Ana and the other woman looking his way. Cassy grabbed him by the arm.

"No, don't bother. Its not worth the trouble. " She let go, moving in front of Miles at the same time. "We plan to cover this cook out thing, top to bottom. We're going to watch the first seating, take pictures, I'll interview some willing victims, then we'll eat with the second seating." Noting that Miles seemed to be looking beyond her, she took his arm again. "I hope you'll do me the honors of being my dinner companion. Then we can finish talking about your philosophy of winemaking." Miles started to speak, then, with relief, heard his name.

"Hey, guy. You gonna make me do all of the work?" It was Jimmy, wearing an apron and chef's hat, each made form fabric featuring a grape print. 

"No, of course not," said Miles. "I was just on my way. Cassy, if you'll excuse me.."

Jimmy chimed in, "Brandon is looking for you," he said to Cassy. "He's in the winery now. Probably looking out the window."

Cassy excused herself.

"I owe you," said Miles. 

"It never stops. Good thing I keep track. Hey, my man. Your lady friend is up there, looking luscious, with another beauty. Why don't you introduce me? By the way, no time to waste, I don't actually know where Brandon is."

"You're too evil! Anyway, I don't know Ana's friend, but nothing would give me more pleasure."
They walked over to where Ana and Veronica were standing. Miles tried to look serious but couldn't suppress a huge smile as he drew closer to Ana. His expression wasn't lost on Veronica. She looked back at Ana and noticed that she was blushing, and likewise had a slightly silly grin.

"Hi," said Miles to Ana. "I hope you're doing OK." He waited for her to nod before he acknowledged Veronica. "I'm Miles Delong. Winemaker and General Manager. Welcome to Creek Valley."

"Veronica. Ana and I go way back."

"In that case, I'm honored to meet you. I hope that Ana and I can go far forward."

Veronica's first thought was that his words sounded cliché, almost contrived, yet he looked absolutely serious and sincere. And, there was no mistaking the intensity in the way that Miles and Ana looked at each other. 

"I'm Jimmy." His hand was outstretched toward Veronica. "Gofer, clean up, and all around number two." Veronica laughed lightly. Jimmy leaned toward her, and in a stage whisper said," Don't mind those two. They're in their own world right now." He leaned back. "Aahhh. The joy of young love." Veronica laughed again. "OK, not so young, but love all the same." Jimmy could tell that Ana's friend had a sense of humor. He also noticed the rings on her finger and wasn't concerned that she might take his jokes as flirtation. He was usually direct. Tonight was no exception." So, where's your better half? Don't tell me he let you loose around the likes of Miles, the lady killer here."

Miles and Ana had been drawing closer, speaking a few soft words back and forth. He was holding her hand and caressing her hair. At his name, he looked up. "Hey, watch that kind of talk!" Miles' attention immediately went back to Ana, she looking shyly down though sometimes glancing up at him, nodding and smiling, and speaking a few soft words. 

Veronica couldn't remember ever seeing Ana act so girlish before. Ana the business woman was all business. And, Ana with Greg was different, but nothing like this. Ana treated Greg like a necessity, more like a brother than a lover. Ana was fascinated with Miles to the extent that she was barely aware of anyone else's presence. Jimmy decided he had to spoil the moment. Fun was fun, but business was business. And, it was getting later and later and there was cooking to be done.

"Hey, there, Miles, old buddy, old pal. Can I prevail upon you to assist me with the food preparation."

Miles heard Jimmy but chose to ignore him for about a second. In fact, Miles heard all of the conversation between Jimmy and Veronica, he couldn't shut off his ability to think of more than one thing at once, not during official working hours. He dissolved a brief vision of unbuttoning Ana's dress to respond, "Yes, boss. We've got to get to work!" He looked back at Ana. "You'll be OK?"

"Don't worry. Vern's husband and daughter are here, and Mary Pringle, another friend. But, it's the funniest thing, Mary went off with that Manny photographer guy. He's got to be years younger than her, but he started hitting on her as soon as he saw her."

"Manny's not as strange as he looks," commented Miles. "I wouldn't worry about your friend – I think Manny is just trying to stay out of Cassy's direct line of fire." Miles was smiling. "So are some of the rest of us!" He looked at Jimmy. "How's the fire?"

"Needs some help, mister grill master."

"We'll save you some prime seats," Miles said to Veronica. "Take care," he said, kissing Ana lightly on the cheek. They walked off toward the shelter houses.

"Lets go find Chris and Alicia," said Ana.

"Not so fast," Veronica replied. "Ana, I've never seen you like this. He is gorgeous, and what a body! And he seems nice enough. And, he obviously can't keep his eyes off you. Or barely keep his hands off! But, Ana, if I didn't know better, I'd say that you are finally falling in l-o-v-e." 

Ana hoped that Veronica would keep chattering, but she didn't. She was waiting for a response. "Oh, Vern. I don't know. What if its just some physical thing?"

"Don't undervalue the physical part. In fact, if you want my opinion, that is exactly what you and Greg didn't have going for you. But, now that I think about it, what about mysterious Miles? What about his deep, dark secrets? Did you find out?"

Ana frowned as she thought about Miles and Em. "We talked about it. I mean, he told me about it. Its just some stuff that happened a long time ago, and he still feels bad about it." Ana didn't want to be too explicit. "There is one little difficulty, but its nothing that can't be taken care of. Just something he hasn't gotten around to." She heard her own words and wondered if she believed them. I don't want to think about that right now, she decided. Take one day at a time.

Veronica seemed to sense Ana's inner dialogue. "Well, if you're OK with it, then its Ok with me. The important thing is that you're happy!"

Ana didn't have to think. "Yes. I am happy when I'm with Miles. He makes me feel so, I don't know, so cared for. What's the word I want?" She thought for a minute. "He makes me feel cherished. And I've never quite felt like that. Not even with my family." Ana started to notice the music coming from the amphitheater. 

"I need to see what my husband is up to. Likely feeding Alicia a lot of junk food. Come on, Ana. I suspect you'll have ample time with Miles as the evening progresses."

They found Chris and Alicia standing just outside the amphitheater. As Veronica predicted, Alicia was sticky from the remnants of an ice cream cone. Most of the pink ice cream seemed to be on her face. "Oh, honey," worried Veronica. "You're so messy. " She looked at Chris. "Great job, Dad."

"Sorry. I was getting into the music. I can take care of it." 

"No worry. Mom always travels with extra wipes." Veronica opened her massive purse and extracted an entire container of pre moistened wipes. She clean Alicia's face and hands. "No harm done. So, the band is good?"

"Excellent. You know, this seems to be a really nice place. I don't know why we never made time to come here before. I'd really like to bring Mom and Dad. Dad used to make wine, you know."

"Yes, I remember. The black raspberry. "

Ana jumped in. "Now that your dad is retiring, maybe he'll want to come out and help when they pick grapes. Most of the people here are retirees, and amateur winemakers."

Chris nodded. "Yeah. I thought of that when Veronica told me about you coming out here. I think Dad would get a kick out of that, especially if he could hang around with some other old farts. And, I know that he's not ready to slow down, even though he claims he's retiring. Dad has been working all his life. He is going to need something other than golf to fill his time. I'll talk to him about this."

"Excuse me, but what's the time?" asked Veronica.

"Coming up on quarter to six." Chris responded. "Better head toward dinner. And where's the other one?"

Veronica and Ana realized that they hadn't seen anything of Mary Pringle. '"Hopefully she'll meet us there," said Ana. "I thought Manny said that he was going to take pictures at the first seating. "

They ambled toward the shelter houses. Between the two shelter houses sat a long iron grill. Flames shot upward from various points, and Miles and Jimmy were sitting in a couple of folding chairs next to several coolers. 

"Chris, I want you to meet Miles and Jimmy, " said Ana. I don't know what Vern's said, but Miles is sort of.." she fumbled, not knowing how to refer to him. Not a boyfriend, maybe a date? But that didn't describe someone you spent the night with, did it. What was Miles to her. Chris saved her the trouble.




In the Vineyard Ch. 07



"Oh, he's the hottie that I've heard about. I hope for your sake that he's a nice guy and not a jerk like Greg Romano."

Ana was surprised at this. She thought that everyone admired Greg. It occurred to her that a man like Chris, who was very physical, probably had less respect for the country club type that Greg was.

"No, Miles is no Greg." As they approached, Jimmy noticed them, waved, and jabbed Miles in the arm. Miles looked at Jimmy, annoyed, and followed Jimmy's pointing arm to Ana and her friends. He immediately stood up and walked toward them. Jimmy followed, a step behind.

"Hello," said Miles, "and welcome," he said to Chris. "We haven't met. I'm Miles Delong. And this lovely young lady must be your daughter."

"I'm Chris. And this is Alicia. She's four."

"A beauty. Sure to be a heartbreaker when she grows up."

"Like her mother," Chris said. "So, I hear that you're the new man in Ana's life. She's been a friend for a long time." Ana was surprised to hear Chris sounding so paternal, but she sensed already that he was comfortable with Miles.

"Well, maybe if I don't mess things up, someday I'll be an old married man, like yourself."

Chris laughed. He looked toward the grill. "The two of you cook all of these steaks?"

Jimmy chimed in. "Not just steaks. Chicken. Tuna. Portabello mushrooms. Lamb chops. Whatever people pick, we cook it all. Both seatings."

"Amazing," said Chris. "I can barely handle a meal for three without over doing something. And I use gas, not wood."

"You wanna try? We'll give you some lessons," offered Jimmy.

"Come on, Jimmy. The man's a paying customer," protested Miles.

"No, really," said Chris. "Sure, I'd love to help. Sounds like fun. And the girls," he gestured toward Ana and Veronica who were whispering to each other, "Can carry on with girl talk! Can you help me get them seated? And, I need a booster seat for Alicia."

"Can do," said Jimmy. "Miles, watch the fire. We'll be right back."

Miles wondered why Jimmy invited this stranger to help. But, he decided that it wasn't a bad thing to get to know Ana's friends. 

As the evening went on, Miles was glad for Chris' presence. Cassy Combs was soon wandering around, without Brandon or Todd, and Manny the photographer spent as much time showing Mary Pringle how he did things as he actually did taking pictures. Whenever Cassy approached, Miles managed to find a way to explain something to Chris until the cooking was finally done. Miles realized that Chris hadn't had an opportunity to eat, and insisted he sit down. He knew now that he would be fair game for Cassy. She noticed right away when Miles was not as busy.

"How did it go?" she asked. 

Miles was staring at Ana and her friends. Chris was diving into his steak with enthusiasm, Veronica was feeding Alicia spoonfuls from a piece of crème pie, Ana had finished most of her food and was cradling a glass of wine, and Mary Pringle apparently was waiting to eat at the second seating with Manny. Manny was standing behind her, fiddling with his cameras. Cassy followed Miles eyes. "That Manny, " she said. "This is a first. Usually he doesn't hit on women. In fact, I wondered if he liked women. Must be because he was drinking earlier today. Lowered his inhibitions." She leaned toward Miles. "How are yours? Inhibitions, I mean."

Miles decided that he had to say something. "Cassy. You're a nice lady, attractive, intelligent.."

"What is this, a blow off speech? Wait a minute, nothing has even happened yet."

"That's the point. Most guys, given the opportunity to spend even just a little time with you, well they'd be crazy to say no. Even me, maybe some other time. But Cassy, there is something that is happening in my life that means as much to me as this winery. Maybe will even mean more, someday. And she's sitting over there. And I am scared to death to screw it up!" 

Cassy was momentarily shocked by how serious Miles sounded. Before she could speak, he went on. "If you want to slam me in the paper, go ahead. I am what I am, and this place is as good as I can make it, at least as far as it's under my control. But, I won't compromise myself or my values just to get a good write up. So, you do what you have to. "

"Miles, Miles. I didn't just stay here because I thought I had a chance to get close to you. Of course, that would be nice. And, by the way, here is my card," she reached into her purse and tucked a business card into Miles shirt pocket, "just in case you're ever desperate and dateless! Believe me Miles, I didn't get where I am by taking favors for positive write ups. Not that I don't sometimes find common ground with my subjects, after all food and wine are my interests. But, suffice it to say that Cassy's recreation and her writing are not one and the same. I like this place, and I obviously like you, and, while Brandon is incredibly charming, I could tell quickly that I wasn't his type." She looked up at Miles. "By the way, just a guess. He and that other fellow…" She gestured toward Jimmy. Miles nodded. "I thought so. They don't look like they go together, but something told me… At any rate, I respect and appreciate your interest in that young woman there. And, I hope it works out for you. But, I do hope we can still have dinner together? It appears that your friend has already eaten."

"Deal," said Miles extending his hand. "And, I'd be pleased to have further discussion about my winemaking philosophy. Now, if you'll give me a few minutes to make certain that things," he gestured toward Ana and her friends, "are taken care of."

"Of course. Take your time. I need to make some calls."

Miles walked up on the crowd as they were all laughing at something. Ana didn't notice him at first, then she gestured for him to sit by her. Miles sat and made some small talk, asking everyone how things were, all seemed to be enjoying the food and the wine. 

"I like this red," said Veronica. "And I don't usually drink red. Even with steak. But I like this."

"It's a blend. Some Merlot, but a few other things. And I like to emphasize the fruit in it. That's probably why you like it. It isn't bone dry like a lot of red wines."

Miles had his arm around Ana's waist. He pulled her closer to him. She looked over at him, questioningly. "You have to do this all over again," she said. 

"Yes. One more time. Then I promised Cassy Combs I'd sit and eat with her."

Ana looked surprised. 

"Don't worry. I set her straight. She's not expecting anything but information she can use in the paper. I thought you could stay occupied for an hour or so – listen to music, hang with your friends. In fact, you might go on into the winery and see if Brandon is having tastings. His style is different than mine, he's more fun and less detail. And, he'll keep the little one entertained, too.

Chris and Vern thought that a tasting sounded like fun, so Ana agreed to go along. Sure enough, Brandon was filling up the seats at one of the bars and he immediately started making balloon animals and handing them to Alicia, one after another. 

"Bunny," he said. "Doggie." Alicia cooed at each new creation. After a few minutes, the bar area was full and a few other people crowded around behind the chairs. "All set?" asked Brandon. He started by passing glasses around. "I need an assistant. Will you do me the honors?" he asked Ana. "I'm Brandon Formby. I've heard all about you, but we've never been introduced."

"Ana Palmer. Nice to finally meet you. I've heard lots of positive things."

"Lies, all lies. Don't believe any of it!" He was laughing. Brandon launched into his pitch and Ana sound found that her job as assistant was to move among the crowd, pouring a small amount of wine in each glass. Brandon's style was much looser, more informal than Miles. When he heard comments about the wines, he often took a sip himself, to see if he agreed or disagreed. "Yes, you're right," he would say. "I do taste peaches." Or, "No, this wasn't oaked. Its what is known as 'tannin' that you're tasting." Then he would explain why each flavor was or wasn't perceptible. Brandon also slipped in every flirtatious remark he could – directed especially toward older women, who became giggly and girlish at his attention. He made an effort to involve each and every person, and there was little opportunity for anyone to become bored. 

Ana was surprised to see Miles and Cassy entering the winery while the tasting was still going on. The time had gone by much faster than she realized. Miles saw that she was helping Brandon. He stood back, watching, still conversing with Cassy. She had her recorder going on, and occasionally directed a question to Miles. 

The tasting finally wrapped up, and Miles was pleased to see the participants for the most part purchased wines to go. A few case sales were made, including one to Chris and Veronica. Brandon picked up the glasses and wiped off the bar, ready to start over. A few people were already milling around and started to take the bar chairs. Miles and Cassy approached and she took a seat. 

"It's the lovely Cassy Combs!" said Brandon. "Are you going to honor me by participating in one of my little performances here?"

"Looks like you get the crowd eating out of your hand, Brandon. Oh, Miles, can you go find Manny and send him up here. I do think that pictures would be nice!"

Miles agreed. He noticed that Ana, and her friends went out through the door just a minute ago. He found them all back at the shelter house with Mary and Manny.

"We're ready. Have to get the little one home," Vern was saying to Mary.

"Ok. No prob. I'll see you later, Manny. Call me or email me."

"Great!" said Manny. "I'd love to take you to see that exhibition I told you about. Maybe tomorrow evening."

"Call me," said Mary, smiling. They all said their good byes to Ana and to Miles, thanking him for a nice evening. Miles let Manny know he was wanted inside. "The bitch calls," was Manny's comment, and he started slowly toward the winery.

"Alone at last," said Miles. Ana nodded. The shelter house was empty, the rest of the crowd at the winery were gathered in the amphitheater, the deck area or seated on the various benches around the path. Miles stood up. "Wait here." He walked toward the grill. He picked up a box at the far end, and carried it back to Ana. She was seated at one of the picnic tables and he sat across from her. He started pulling items out of the box, a thick candle in a holder, which he sat between them and lit, two clean glasses and a small bottle of wine. "Late harvest," he said. "For dessert." He looked at her and could see the candle flame reflected in her eyes. "Although I'm looking forward to more dessert, Ms." Miles opened the wine and poured a small measure in each glass. He lifted his and said "To a beautiful woman. On a beautiful night. May this be one of many to follow." Ana clinked her glass to his. Then a flash of light hit her eyes. 

"Great shot!" It was Manny. "I hope I had the flash going the right direction. I wanted to get the candle." He turned and went on toward the winery. He stopped again. "Later, guy," he said to Miles. "Oh, and your friend is really cool. You can tell her I said so." 

"I'll be sure to," said Ana. She drank the sweet thick wine. "You know, that old wine I bought, it has something of this taste."

"I thought so, too," said Miles. "That's why I opened this. But, you know, it isn't quite the same. It doesn't have the sugar, although it has a wide, rich flavor. When I get some time, I'm going to try to do some research, figure out what it is."

"We'll have to go there. To the place where I bought it," said Ana. She realized that Miles was becoming a part of her thoughts, her plans. But what was going to happen? She couldn't see herself living here at the winery, and she knew he wouldn't want to move in with her – it was too far away. And, what about his plans to start his own winery – where would that lead them? Certainly not back to the city, more likely somewhere else in the state. One thing for sure, thoughts of job and career had been entirely absent these last days. She was content in a strange way she'd never experienced. Just go with it, she told herself. But one nagging thought remained 'he's married.' How could anything happen while Miles was still married?

Miles watched Ana's eyes moving and knew she was deep in thought. He wondered but didn't want to ask. He was enjoying this moment so much, feeling alone with her, in the cool crisp air, tasting the sweet wine, and full of anticipation for the night before them. He felt like he should say something, but didn't know what so he just waited. Ana finally broke the silence.

"It seemed to be a good evening. For business, I mean."

"Yes. We had a good crowd, and I think that we did a lot of sales to go. And, Scott is working tonight, he is good at keeping track. I don't know if you heard, but we're having some problem with missing stock."

"Jimmy told me."

"I can't figure it out, and Todd is driving me crazy about it. But it's not really extreme enough to be a problem for us. Maybe 20 cases in all. I mean, you hate to lose anything, but it's not going to ruin our year. But, I don't want to think about that now. Here I am, alone with the woman of my dreams, about to spend the night with her…I can think of better things than a few missing cases of wine!" He paused, considering a thought. "I did want to say, though, I happened to overhear some of your conversation with Todd today."

"You were spying on me?" Ana had an edge in her voice.

"No, no. I just saw you up there and I started out the door. " He frowned. "Maybe this will make you mad, but I thought you might need rescuing. I don't trust Todd. But, what I wanted to say was, I heard some of it, and I can see that you don't need rescuing. And I wanted to thank you. I guess for having the guts to take my side. I mean, its one thing for us to be with each other, but I worry about the rest of the world." He watched her to see if she was reacting. He couldn't read anything. "I don't mean Todd, I could give a rat's ass about Todd Formby. But, he's not the only one who will talk, and I don't want to be in a position where other people cause problems for us." 

Ana was getting a little angry. "First of all, you're right, I don't need rescuing. Not by you, or by anyone. And, I don't need other people to tell me what to think. I'm perfectly capable of making my own judgments. And, last, if you think that I'm that weak and…hollow, then I'd say that you haven't bothered to get to know much about me, other than maybe my body parts, at all!" She started to stand up. Miles took her hand.

"No, please Ana. Please. Please, please, don't get mad. Please sit."

She did, but wouldn't look him in the face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I have a way of putting my foot in my mouth with you, don't I? I guess I'm just out of practice. I haven't fallen in love for a long time. Maybe never. Will you forgive me?"

She looked at him, with a sharp reply ready, then saw the pain in his eyes. He looked almost ready to cry. She suddenly felt guilty for being so defensive.

"Miles, I'm sorry too. Forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive. I'll try not to act like such a jerk. It's just, well, I can't stand the thought of anything happening to take you away from me."

"Miles, I don't know what will happen. But I can tell you this, honestly. Right now I can't imagine not being with you. I don't mean for a few hours, or a day, or so, but I can't imagine me just going back home and you just staying here. But, I don't know what to do about it." He could hear the worry in her voice.

"Ana, for now, we'll just do what we've done. I'll come see you , you can come see me other times. Its not like we're on two different sides of the country. Only about an hour. Maybe I'm being forward, but I don't want to spend a night away from you. And, if that means I show up at your door at ten or eleven, and leave at six a.m., that's what I'll do. I will do whatever it takes to be with you, and to make this work." He stood up and walked around to her side of the picnic table. He sat beside her, wrapping his arms around her. He leaned close to her ear. "As long as you'll have me, I'm yours. And, I may leave, but I'll always be back. Always!"

The winery was open until midnight, but Miles told Ana he didn't want to stay around that long. "It was an early morning, and I, I mean we have things to do tomorrow. And tonight," he said, biting her on the ear. "I'll do a final check, then in the for night. If you want to go on ahead?" Ana felt a thrill from the warmth of Miles breathing in her ear. The bite was a surprise and she started a little. Embarrassed by shaking, she said, "Yes, I will. I'm getting a little chilled." Miles gave her the key. They walked together to the winery steps, Miles kissed Ana lightly. He stopped for a second.

"I won't deny that I like your body parts. And, I look forward to seeing them. But, Ana, know this. If there wasn't this person inside that body, I wouldn't feel the same way. It's the whole package I'm crazy for." He started to turn, then stopped again. "Leave a light on for me!" 

He smile, then turned, going up the steps to the winery.. She walked on around to the door of his living space. She opened the door, and started to imagine what she would do if she lived there. If they were going to go back and forth, she decided, she should keep some things here, and Miles would need to have some things in her condo. That wouldn't be so bad, and it wasn't exactly the same as moving in together. She would have time to slowly prepare her parents. Who knows, maybe they'd like Miles. Her friends all seemed to, that was a plus. Then she remembered that she told her mother she might come up to the lake tomorrow. That was clearly out of the question, now. She'd have to call tomorrow. She remembered what Manny had said about the paper – the story on the winery was supposed to run on Wednesday. Maybe that would impress her parents. It was certain to paint a favorable picture of Miles and the success of the place. But, somehow she knew that there would be problems over Greg. Not the time or place to think about that, she decided. 

Deciding that all was well and in capable hands – the crowds were winding down and Brandon and Jimmy would stay to close – Miles went down the path toward his living area. He hummed a little to himself as he walked along, an old show tune about finding your true love. 

"Miles."

He turned around to see Cassy. He was surprised before not to find her in the winery, but assumed she had gone onto her room in town. He could tell by her sway that she was feeling no pain.

"Hello, Cassy," he said, trying to sound casual. "I'm just going to bed."

"Perfect!" She said. She took his arm. "I'll just join you."

"Cassy," he said, extracting his arm. "I already, I mean, I won't be alone."

"That's ok," she said. "Two women, one man. Isn't that every man's fantasy?"

Think fast, said Miles to himself. How am I going to handle this gracefully? "Uh, where's Manny?"

"Oh, Manny. Already gone back to his room. Said he had a big day tomorrow. That blond, you know." She drew close to Miles. "You know, I never thought he liked women. He never acted like he liked me at all. I just thought he must be, you know, well, you know, not into women."

"Yes. You told me."

"I did? Well, I'll be damned. Well, that settles it," she said, grabbing his hand. "If I'm repeating myself, its time for bed."

Miles noticed that it seemed suddenly quiet, and Cassy's voice was carrying. He realized that the music had stopped – while the winery stayed open until midnight, the bands generally stopped before that time. Groups of people started walking out of the amphitheater, some wandering back into the winery, others going toward the parking lot. Miles felt very obvious.




In the Vineyard Ch. 07



"Come on, Cassy. Let's get away from the crowds."

"Just what I want. You're a mind reader!" She grabbed his arm, and Miles have led, half dragged Cassy along. He didn't know where else to go – he ended up at his own front door. Miles thought, then knocked.

Ana heard the knock. Lucky I'm still dressed, she thought. I didn't expect company. She went to the door and looked out the window. She saw that it was Miles with Cassy and opened the door. She immediately saw that Cassy was limp, sagging, eyes barely open.

"Drunk?" she asked Miles.

"Drunk. And I don't know how she did it. She was fine after eating. She must have been trying pretty hard for the last hour."

"So, what's the deal?" asked Ana.

Miles walked in, pulling Cassy along. He sat her on the couch. She sat upright, and after a second asked, "Do you have a drink?"

"How about some coffee?" Miles responded.

"Only if you spike it," Cassy said and laughed. "White wine, please."
"Coming up," responded Miles. He went toward the kitchen. 

Ana followed. "Miles, what's up?"

"If you mean, what is the plan, I don't know. I'm making it up as I go along. I just had to get her away from the crowd. It didn't look good, for Creek Valley or for Cassy. Too many people know who she is."

"That's thoughtful, Miles, but do you think getting her drunker is the answer?" Miles was in the kitchen by this time. "Shhhh," he cautioned. He extracted the bottle of white wine they'd started that afternoon. He poured less than a shot glass portion in a wine glass, then topped if off with some seltzer water. "She'll be able to taste the wine, but there isn't enough there to make a difference." He carried the glass back to Cassy.

"Voila, Mademoiselle. This is a slightly sparkling white."

"Miles, you sound like Brandon. He is such a charmer." She looked suddenly forlorn. "Such a shame, he's such an attractive young man. What a waste." Cassy sipped the wine. "Mmmmmn. I don't recall tasting this earlier."

"You didn't," replied Miles. "It's a, um, a special reserve." He added, "And a limited edition. We don't normally pour it to the public. But, since its you, I thought you might as well try it."

"Well, I am honored." Cassy leaned down and motioned Miles to get close. She tried to whisper. "Did you tell your friend about our plans? You know, ménage a trois? "

Miles whispered back. "Not yet. I need some time. She's not expecting this."

"Oh, of course, I understand." Cassy was a full plus volume now. "Take your time. I'm fine. Oh, before you get into some in depth discussion, can you give me a refill?"

"Of course," said Miles, taking the empty glass. He walked to the kitchen, and out of Cassy's sight repeated the concoction. Ana was still standing there, uncertain what to do. 

"I'll be right back," Miles said to her. "Don't move." Ana had her arms crossed and was trying to look stern, but the ridiculous nature of the situation was making it hard for her to keep a straight face. Seeing this, Miles started to crack up as well. "Just let me take this out there," he said, straining. Ana covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the laughter. "Damn it!" said Miles, also dissolving in laughter. He pulled himself together and walked back to Cassy.

"Another glass," he said, brightly.

"Sounds like its going well in there. Are we on?"
"Not quite. But getting closer. I'll be right back." Miles was relieved to turn his back on Cassy. He came back to Ana, who was by that time doubling over with silent laughter. Without a word, he put his arm around her and pulled her into the bathroom. Locking the door behind him, Miles turned on the shower and the sink, then flushed the toilet. 

"I can't believe this," he said, laughing between the words. Ana was laughing so hard she was tearing up. "Ana, its not that funny." Miles tried again to be serious, but her giggles were contagious. "Ok, maybe it is. And, you don't know the worst." Ana laughed more, then took a breath. 

"So, what's the worst?" Ana started laughing again.

"What do you think she wants?"

"Why, you, no doubt."

"Well, yes, and no. When I explained that I wasn't alone, she suggested that we make a threesome."

Ana digested this, then her laughter slowed. "so, she expects…you and I and….Miles, you can't be serious."

"No, of course not. But, what was I supposed to do, let her stand there by the winery and broadcast her ideas? I had some thought of taking her to her room, but frankly, I think I've had too much to drink. Not counting that, I'm really too tired, even just to go a few miles down the road." 

"I'm not in any better shape. I had a real work out this morning." Miles remembered Ana driving the tractor and splitting wood. "Let's call a cab."

"What if she won't go? She's into this three some idea."

"So, think. How can we make her go?"

"Wait a minute, I have an idea!" Miles shut off the shower and sink. "Just follow my lead."

"OK. I hope you know what you're doing."

"Me, too."

Miles and Ana walked out. Miles paused in the kitchen and made another glass of the seltzer-wine combination. He carried it with him. 

"I thought you'd need another, he said, sitting the new glass in front of her.

"Oh, Miles. You're sooo thoughtful!" She looked up at him. "Are we cool?" she asked in a stage whisper.

"Cassy," he sat down beside her. With his arm behind Cassy, he signaled for Ana to sit on the other side. She did so, hesitantly. "Cassy," Miles continued, "We want to talk to you, for a minute. About getting together."

Cassy looked over at Ana. "I'm so glad that you're comfortable with this. I was afraid that you weren't into anything wild!"

Ana smiled back at her. She looked past Cassy at Miles. He gestured toward Ana. She started to speak. "Yes, well…" she looked again toward Miles, he was holding up fingers on his hands. Ana had a sense where Miles was going. "Cassy, its not that the three of us is a problem. It's the rest of our friends that we're worried about!" 

"The rest of..? " Cassy began.

Miles jumped in. "That's what I was trying to tell you earlier, Cassy. You see, we have plans later on. A group thing."

"Group thing? You mean like group sex?" asked Cassy.

Miles nodded at her. "Let me see, you know about Brandon and Jimmy. They're what you'd call AC/DC. And a couple of Jimmy's friends from school. And, Scott, who works in the winery, and went to school with Manny. Plus some of the girls from the winery, Kayla, Rita, Lorna. And, Todd usually comes by, sometimes with his wife, sometimes not. And, correct me if I'm wrong, Ana, but aren't we expecting your friend Mary and Manny?"

Ana tried to keep a straight face. "I believe that's so."

"Wait a minute," said Cassy, standing up. "Todd? Manny? How many people are we talking about? How do you keep track? "

"We don't" said Miles. "Sometimes we end up with a few strangers. But, so far, no one's been seriously hurt." He paused and looked serious. "Except the one time. And, I'm convinced that was a fluke."

Cassy looked at Miles and Ana in turn. Then, she looked down at her watch.

"Geez, look at the time! It's getting really late. And I have an early morning tomorrow. I have to get up and drive all the way back into town for mass!" She stretched and yawned. "You know, maybe I should call it a night. No offense, as much as I'd like to stay, I think maybe some shut eye is in order. " She started to get up.

"Not so fast," said Miles.

"Miles, really," started Ana. "If Cassy wants to go, then, she should go."

"Not in her condition. Cassy, let me call a cab. They'll be here in less than ten minutes from Creekboro. We call regularly. Where are you staying?"

Cassy told him the name of the bed and breakfast. She knew she was in no shape to drive. Miles made the call, then Cassy decided that she needed to go back to her car for something. 

"I'll go with you," Ana announced. Miles looked at her questioningly. "Its OK. I think it's better if I go." Miles nodded. The two women went out the door. Miles took Ana's hand for a second before she left. 

Ana and Cassy walked along the path in silence.

"He's quite a guy," Cassy finally said.

"Yep," said Ana. She wasn't ready to be conversational with Cassy, after all, Cassy had caused no end of difficulties with their plans that day.

Cassy stopped suddenly. "Ana," she said. "I know I've had too much to drink."

Ana couldn't help empathizing. "Happens to the best of us."

"Listen, Ana, whatever you guys do is, you know, your thing. But I have something I want to say to you."

"Speak your mind," said Ana.

"Ana, I want you to know, because I know, that Miles is absolutely, completely crazy about you. I mean ape shit crazy about you. He couldn't keep his eyes off you most of the day. I know, because I kept trying to get him to look at me."

Ana didn't know what to say. This was so unexpected. She started to feel pangs of guilt about their deception of Cassy. "Cassy, I…"

Cassy interrupted. "Don't worry. I can tell when I'm not wanted. But, you guys didn't have to go through all that. Next time, just say, Cassy, get lost! Scram! Vamoose!" She leaned toward Ana. "You are so lucky. Don't ever forget that I told you so. Face it, I don't like to lose gracefully. But, I'll make an exception this time." The cab was pulling up. "Tell him I'll be right there," said Cassy, walking toward her car. She looked remarkably sober at this point. Ana went up to the cab, told the driver the destination and asked the price. She paid with the bill that Miles placed in her hand on their way out. "Keep the change," she said. The driver smiled. 

Cassy came back toward the cab. She opened the door. "Ana, " she said. ''Take good care of him. He's one in a million. Maybe one in a billion!" 

Ana waved and started to walk away. "One more thing," Cassy was saying. Ana turned back. "You tell your friend to be nice to Manny. He is one hell of a photographer! And really not that bad of a kid, although I give him a hard time." 

"I will," said Ana. She had the feeling that deep down, Cassy was actually fond of Manny, in a mothering way. "We'll see you soon."

"You know, maybe I should give you the keys and have you guys deliver my car tomorrow morning." The cab was beginning to back out and Ana pretended not to hear. She walked on. Enough of Cassy was enough, even given her current contrite mood. "Bye," Ana called back. The cab finally departed. Ana breathed a sigh of relief. She worked her way back to Miles' door. By this time, the winery, though still open, was practically deserted. The parking lot had just a couple of cars, one of course, was Cassy's.

Ana came to the door and tried the knob. Open. She opened it quietly, didn't see anyone right away. Maybe Miles was asleep. After all they'd been through all day, here it was, her first night here, and he was asleep. She came inside, closing and locking the door. But, no, there was music playing. Ana looked around, and saw a surprise. 

There was a fire in the fireplace, and there was Miles. He was sitting on the bearskin rug, nude, looking back at her.

"What took you so long?"

"Cassy was talkative."

"Come here. Let me help you with your clothes." Ana noticed her old bottle of wine on the coffee table. It was empty, the contents poured evenly into two glasses. 

Miles followed her eyes. "I wanted it to be our nightcap here. Remember? Now, come over here and let me see that dress up close."

Ana walked toward him. "The fire is nice. How did you manage to build one so quickly?"

"I've had lots of practice. I remembered that you had a chill earlier. The nights and early mornings are colder here than in the city."

"I noticed that before. When I first came out." Ana remembered her first visit, her first sight of Miles. She never would have guessed that day that she'd be here just a couple of weeks later, spending the night. And making love with Miles, for the second time this day.

"Sit," he patted a spot on the rug in front of him. "There's something I've been wanting to do for hours."

"What is it?" Ana asked him. She sat facing him.

"I'll show you." Miles moved around so he was behind Ana. He pressed his face against her neck. She could feel his facial hair. "Its not too rough, is it?" Miles asked.

"No, its soft. Are you going to keep growing it?"

"Only until we finish the harvest. I have a superstition about shaving as it gets close to the end. Especially when it's a good year. Then, after the last day of picking, I'll go back to just the mustache." Miles started nibbling on her ears. It felt like an electric shock was running down Ana's neck. She moaned lightly. "Like that?" Miles asked. 

"Uh huh," she said quietly. 

"Good," he said. He ran his tongue along the outer edges of her ears, and at the same time put his hands on her shoulders. He moved his mouth down to her neck and gave her little kisses, pulling on the skin just slightly. "Don't worry, " he said between mouthfuls, "I won't leave any marks."

"I'm not worried. I trust you."

"You should," Miles said. He caressed her shoulders and moved his hands down the front of her to the top button of the dress. He unbuttoned it, and the next two. He swung back around so he was facing her. Ana sat, almost motionless, as if in a trance. She couldn't believe how excited she was, and Miles had barely touched anything but her ears and neck. Just the top of her green lace bra was showing under the dress. Miles unbuttoned one more button. The bra was now exposed. Miles gently pushed the top of the dress off Ana's shoulders. He pressed one hand across Ana's chest, working his way downward to the bra. He rubbed the outside of the bra, feeling with pleasure that Ana's nipples were hardening. "She's getting hot," he whispered to her. "Lets see how hot we can get." He pulled the bra straps down off her shoulders and then pushed the lace down so the bra sat beneath her breasts. Miles unbuttoned another button, then leaned down. He used his tongue to lick around the edges of her nipples, alternating between them. Ana put her hands on Miles' head, working her fingers through his thick hair. 

After a few minutes, Miles lifted his head. He felt around the back and unhooked the bra. He threw it behind him, toward the couch. He unbuttoned the rest of the dress, then stood up, pulling Ana with him. He slipped the dress off, also tossing it back. Then he knelt in front of her, his face close to the green lace panties. Ana felt unsteady, she was quivering with excitement. Sensing this, Miles held onto the small of her back with one hand. He used the other to work the panties down until they were around her ankles. He pulled his hand through her pubic hair, and caressed her, going lower and lower, but each time moving away just before going between her legs. Ana was breathing quickly and heavily. Miles looked up at her.

"Time for a break," he said. Ana looked down at him.

"What?" she said.

"I don't want to go too fast. I want this to last as long as possible," he explained. "No need to get up in the morning. Here," he helped her step out of her panties one foot at a time. Then Miles stood and held Ana tightly. She could feel his erection. "Chill gone?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. In fact she felt extremely hot.

Miles reached over and handed her one of the glasses. He took the other, then he sat back down on the rug. Ana sat beside him, leaning into Miles chest and shoulder. She remembered how she'd wondered what it would feel like to lean against Miles the first day she'd met him. Even before their first touch. 

"Miles?"

"What is it, sweet?"

"Do you remember the first day I came here?"

"Indelibly printed in my brain. What about it? What you wore? Jeans, dirty tennis shoes and a pink tee shirt. That I still have here somewhere, by the way. With a blue windbreaker you took off and tied around your waist. Hair in a ponytail, plus sunglasses. That's not all I remember. What you ate? A half sandwich you made out of one piece of bread, a slice of ham, small piece of Swiss cheese and Dijon mustard. That was the second try, your first try I spoiled by spilling wine on you."

"You make it sound like it was on purpose."

"Maybe it was. I'll have to consider that. Maybe it was subconscious, at least. How else could I get you alone?"

"Maybe. I never thought of you as that devious, though."

"No, I'm not. I don't think so, anyway. Sometimes tactless, and often demanding, but not generally devious." He finished the wine in sips. "So, what was the original question, I forget?"

"I was just wondering, I mean maybe I shouldn't admit this, but there was something I felt the first minute I laid eyes on you. And, I was even trying to fight it, but I couldn't stop thinking about you. That's why I came back. I mean after last Saturday. I just had to see you again, even if you were mad at me."

"Ana, I was never mad at anyone but myself. But, if that's your question, the answer is that I felt the same. Of course, I had heard you were coming from Chester. And, I have been hearing about you for ages from you now ex husband. Especially lately when he thought things were going to get back together. Todd would say 'how are things going,' and Greg would always talk about you. Ana and I this, Ana that, and so on. I have to say that I thought I knew what you'd be like from that. I expected you to be beautiful, which you are." He kissed her check. "But I expected you to be spoiled, snobbish and worthless around here."

She protested. "Miles, that's not fair. How could you jump to such a conclusion?"

"You tell me. How much physical work do you do in your spare time? How about working outside?"

Ana had to admit he was right. "Greg always hired landscapers. And lawn mowers. And, now the condo doesn't even have a yard. But I have been working out for years."

"Believe me, Ana, I'm not cutting on you. I never stop being amazed at what you'll try. Like splitting logs. But, you'll have to admit that work out classes are nothing like working outside. And, you haven't even seen some of what goes on. Digging holes to bury the graft union every fall. Pruning every winter or spring. Digging holes to plant replacement vines. In fact, picking is one of the easier parts and I'd bet you'll admit that it can be work, too."

"Of course."

"Maybe you'll understand this, or maybe you won't. But a lot of what I like is that it is hard, and it does get me outside, out of some box. And, I think, I hope anyway, that you come to feel the same way. Just watching you so far, well, I can't believe that you're working this hard just to impress me. Something inside of you is pushing you."

"You're right. I am a competitor. And, I hate to lose."

"Me, too. Mostly, I'd hate to lose you." He took the now empty glass from her hand. "Ana, I know that I'm moving fast, maybe too fast. But, right now, I'm thinking about how I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Ana started to speak. Miles interrupted.

"No. Hear me out first. I know that I can't ask you yet. So, I'm not. But believe me, the day will come, and as soon as it does, I'll ask. The right way. Ring and everything. I just want you to know that I am serious about this. I have some sense of what you want, what you expect, and I don't want you to think I'm comfortable going on like this. Even what I said earlier, about us going back and forth, I know that's not a solution. It's just the best I can do right now. But, I will do whatever it takes to build us a real life we can live together, something that no one can undermine or take away from us." He thought for a minute. "You know, maybe that's the most important thing you are doing for me. I've been wandering along here, in a sort of limbo, for years now. I don't mean the winery – it's been a great learning experience, and I have made some money, too. But, I didn't have any reason to take care of things, to really get my life in order, I just lived here in the bachelor pad, hung around with the guys, dated the girls, and talked big about starting my own winery. But never made any real plans." He looked at Ana. "Now I have the best reason in the world to go on with my life."




In the Vineyard Ch. 08



Miles woke up at first light. He always did, no matter how late he stayed up. He looked over at Ana, still asleep. He decided that getting up might wake her - and she looked so relaxed. He leaned back and tried to map out this week's picking schedule. He kept looking back at Ana. Seeing her laying there, her wavy reddish hair glinting in the morning sun, he wanted to make love to her again. Ana made a small sound, and Miles watched to see if she'd wake up. She opened her eyes. Seeing Miles awake, she asked, "What time is it?"

"Just about seven," he replied.

"Early," she said, with a yawn. "Too early."

"It's a curse with me. I just can't sleep in."

"I thought Sunday was your day off. Your day of rest." Ana closed her eyes and rolled her head back on the pillow. Miles imagined wrapping his body around hers. He wondered what it would be like to kiss Ana in the morning. 'She'll think I'm a sex maniac if I start all over again,' he decided. 

"Go ahead and sleep, sweet. I'll wake you up later," Miles said. He got out of bed and shivered. It was a cool morning. He hadn't used the furnace that fall, instead building the occasional fire in the evenings. In fact, he often slept on the couch or the rug by the fire. 'Bachelor ways,' he thought. 'Going to have to change.' He imagined for a minute being married to Ana, introducing her as his wife. And this is my wife, Ana, he said in his mind. To his surprise it didn't seem awkward, or impossible either. Something about being with her made him believe that anything was possible. Just a week ago, he literally chased her away rather than tell her the truth, and now, after she heard the whole story she was still here, making love and staying the night with him. He regretted now the loss of even a week with Ana. 'Be grateful for what you have,' he told himself. 'And don't screw it up!'

Miles looked around the bedroom and found his bathrobe, tucked in the bottom of one of the metal cabinets he used for closets. He put it on. He almost tripped over something. It was Ana's overnight bag and it was open. He didn't want to seem nosy, but his curiosity got the better of him. He began looking through the bag. Close to the top, he saw the light green silk robe she'd worn Friday. He took it out and held it up to his face, smelling it. Sure enough, there was a faint odor, lightly sweet, and by now, recognizable as the smell of Ana. He took the robe and carefully laid it across the bed, where she'd be sure to see it. He would have preferred that she walk around nude, but it was a little too chilly for that. Maybe he could warm things up.

Miles went down the steps. Deciding against the furnace - it was loud and would spend an hour warming up - Miles instead worked to rebuild the fire - there were still a couple of hot coals at the bottom. The weather forecast another warm afternoon, so Miles just needed to counteract the morning's chill. He went outside to get wood - the pile next to the door. He shivered as he went outside. It was cool this morning. Not yet frosting, but it would be soon. Miles thought about the grapes. This will be the last week, he thought. I need to go check them in a little bit. Miles remembered that his main goal today was to spend some time with Jack Formby. He smiled at the thought of Jack meeting Ana. Jack would be impressed. He knelt and picked up the newspaper. The weekday papers were delivered to the winery entrance, but with a few tries and some extra tips for the carrier, Miles managed to get the Sunday edition dropped off on his doorstep.

Miles rebuilt the fire, than started looking through the paper. His thoughts kept returning to Jack Formby. More than anyone, even Miles' mother, Jack pressed Miles to deal with his past. Jack insisted that the only way for Miles to escape his demons was to confront them. Jack continually nagged Miles to find Em, and confront her in person. Jack thought that was the only way that Miles would feel closure and be able to move forward. Miles thought about that now. 'I am moving forward now,' he thought. 'Finally.' But, he still held onto some anger, and guilt. He remembered how he began to experience those things Friday night, when he told Ana the story. Maybe he did need to face Em so he could face his feelings. There was also going to be the difficulty of obtaining a divorce. Miles had no idea how to do it, but he knew that he must. He regretted not taking care of it years ago, but there was nothing he could do about that now. Except keep moving forward.

Ana found getting back to sleep difficult. She kept her eyes closed while Miles wandered around. After he went down the steps, she looked to see what he had laid on the bed. Her bathrobe. 'How considerate,' she thought. But her mind was whirling with the things he said last night. The thought of Miles spending the night was comfortable enough, or even the idea that she spent some time here with him. She had thought that their sex was great. Then she thought again. Even though they'd had intercourse a few times, Miles had not spent a total of ten minutes inside her, making love to her. Every time, Miles stopped foreplay and he didn't deliver during intercourse. Ana remembered how Greg Romano would, sometimes, make love to her for an hour. So much for copulation with Miles...and Miles had even stopped her from using her mouth in the shower. No man had ever stopped her from doing that before. But, the other things he suggested - marriage, a life together, going forward starting his own winery - each of those thoughts concerned Ana. Was she ready for marriage? After all, she knew how to be married to Greg - and she finally decided that she didn't want that anymore. What would it be like, being married to Miles? For one thing, he was constantly pursued by women. 'I guess Greg is, too,' she reasoned. She barely noticed when women came on to Greg, after all, she had lived through a years of his affairs when they were married - but with Miles, she had to admit, she got a little jealous. Even in a situation involving Miles' work, like the time spent with Cassy. There was also that temper she'd seen a couple of times. What if Miles was prone to fits of anger? And, what about a new business venture? Creek Valley was obviously a success, could Miles repeat the success somewhere else? How long would it take? This business required far more than a forty-hour work week commitment. What kind of stress would that add to a relationship? There was still the subject of Ana's own ambitions. Was she supposed to just throw them aside in order to help Miles with his dream? What if she wanted to go back to work? Did Miles think that she would throw away her career to drive tractors and split logs? And dig holes, she thought. A lot of planting would be required. While the work might be fun for a while, Ana had trouble visualizing herself as some sort of rustic farm worker. She liked drinking wine, being around the winery, even picking the grapes, but would it ever become a passion for her like it was for Miles? Those thoughts kept her from going back to sleep. She could hear Miles moving around, going out the door, working with the fire, then over to the kitchen, starting a coffee maker. She looked down at the clock on the floor. Seven-forty-five. Might as well get up, she thought. I'm not getting any rest. She felt a little apprehensive. What if he started talking about all of that again, marriage, future, and the like? I can tell him that I'm not ready to make any serious plans at this time of my life; after all we've only been intimate for a few days. But, she thought, what if he thinks I mean I'm not serious about him? I don't really want to date other people, at least not now. And, I certainly don't want him to date other people. She was confused. Maybe I'm just scared of the idea of change, she thought. Things had been the same for so long, the job loss had been really traumatic. Maybe that made her afraid of any other changes. She thought again, and decided instead not to say anything about any of this, whether Miles brought it up or not. She needed to spend some more time determining what she really wanted before she and Miles could make real plans. For now, there was today. She knew she had to go home tonight and wondered if he would come with her. We'll see soon enough, she thought to herself. Just try to relax and enjoy being with him.

Ana got out of bed and put the robe on. It was a little chilly, but as she went down the stairs, she could feel the heat of the fire. Miles was sitting on the couch, looking at a newspaper and drinking a cup of coffee. Seeing her, he put the paper down and got up. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry, I wanted you to get some more sleep. Can I make you a cup of coffee?"

Ana assured him that he hadn't woken her and that she could get her own coffee. "Thanks, anyway. Where are your cups?"

"Cabinet on the left. Milk or crème in the fridge. I don't use sugar, but I have some in you like."

"No, I take milk only."

Ana found the assortment of cups and mugs. She chose a medium sized cup. She poured the coffee, adding some milk. She took a drink.

"This is good. What kind of coffee do you use?"

"I change around, but right now its Kona. I like to buy whole bean and grind up a little at a time. But, Jimmy ground extra on Friday, and I wasn't here yesterday. It's been in the freezer, so it doesn't taste bad."

"No, its great. " She walked back toward Miles. "You know, sometimes, I get so lazy living alone that I make instant."

Miles confessed. "Me, too. Once in a while. In fact, I have to constantly remind myself about things like that. I mean, I'll go for days and not eat any good food - cans of soup, frozen food, convenience stuff. Because its hard to get motivated to cook for one. One of the reasons that I made an effort to go out on dates was that I usually ate better at restaurants than I did here by myself." He looked up at Ana. "What about you? I mean do you eat at home alone?"

Ana sat in one of the chairs opposite Miles. "Yes. I like to eat in. And, I like to cook. And, no, I don't do frozen pizzas. I know what you mean about cooking for one. So, I make what I wan and eat leftovers for a few days. I don't mind that, if its good food." She had a sudden thought. "I'll cook for you, if you like. Even tonight!"

He smiled. "Yes, I would like." He added, "its not that I'm not capable. I don't want you to think that I'm the typical lazy single guy. In fact, I'd be happy to help. Maybe we can cook together."

"That sounds like fun. Where do you shop around here?"

"There's a small grocery in Creekboro. But, I thought we'd go visit Jack - if that's ok with you - " she nodded, remembering that was Miles' plan - "and he lives about 30 miles east of here, in Mount Union. And they have a nice big store there - it's an independent, not a chain - and they have lots of produce, fresh herbs, nice meats. In fact, we buy our cook out meats from the same wholesaler they use. The store also has a nice wine department, and they do stock some of ours. What food do you want to make?"

"Oh, lets just see what looks good at the store. I'm assuming you don't have anything here."

"Other than a can of chicken noodle soup, and a frozen Chinese dinner, no."

Ana sat drinking her coffee. Miles started to pick up the paper again, then put it back. He looked a little lost, Ana thought. 

"Its ok," she said. "Don't mind me. Just do whatever you normally do."

"I guess I don't normally just hang around. I'm usually doing something."

"Well, what do you do this early in the morning?"

"Oh, whatever. I go and look around in the cellar, double check outside to see that everything's cleaned up, check the sales for the past week, sit in my office for a couple of hours, stuff like that. Most of it isn't necessary, it just gives me something to fill the time. Sunday is the one day that I spend alone."

Her words came out before Ana could think. "Maybe not anymore." I guess I meant that, she thought. Or I wouldn't have said it. 

"I wouldn't mind that. Being alone with you, I mean." 

Ana felt awkward. She hadn't meant to start talking about the future. She started to leaf through the paper. "Do you do the crossword?" she asked. Miles shook his head.

"I'm no good at those. You're welcome to it. I've got a pencil around here someplace."

"Its ok. I have a pen in my purse." Ana's purse had been left on the floor last night. She opened it and realized that she didn't see the rest of her things. "Didn't I leave some clothes down here last night?"

"I picked everything up. We have a cleaning service that picks up our stuff. We send everything out, winery shirts, tablecloths, napkins, and I send all of my things since there isn't a washing machine here. I put your clothes in with mine." He paused. "I hope that's ok. They'll be back, clean, at the end of the week. I thought it was the least I could do. After all, I was the one throwing them around." Miles had an awkward look on his face. Was it embarrassment, Ana wondered? He was subdued this morning compared to yesterday. I guess I feel a little strange, too, she thought. This is almost the first time we've woken up together. Her morning routine was going to change if they kept spending the night together. 

"No, of course, launder my clothes, that's great. Saves me the trouble. Thanks."

"You know," Miles said, "You might want to move some things here. I mean, in case you want to spend the night. I'll make room for your things. I can even get some furniture, if you like. A clothes dresser, if you want."

"Don't go to any trouble. I was thinking about bringing some things here, but I'll make due. What about you? Don't you want to bring some things to my place?"

Miles grinned. "I thought you'd never ask. Yes, I would like that. I was serious about what I said earlier. About not wanting to spend a night away from you. But, if you need a break, or some space, just let me know. And, Ana, I'm not trying to rush into anything. I do plan to take care of, you know, Em." Ana noticed that Miles tightened as he said her name. "I plan to take care of that thing right away. But, things are going well here. I can stay here for a while longer. As long as you'll put up with it. The back and forth, I mean." 

He was trying hard, Ana thought, to say the right things. To tell her that he was committed, but to give her an out. That made her feel better. The slower things moved, the happier she would be. She looked at him. He was so remarkably good looking. His hair was tousled but not tangled, and she was beginning to like the faint outline of beard he wore. His bathrobe was belted loosely, and she could see the muscular chest and shoulders, still tan, even now in October. She remembered how strong his arms were as he lifted her last night. His shape wasn't as noticeable when he was dressed, but in the nude, he had the body of a statue. One advantage of this business, she thought. No need to go to the gym for a workout. 

"You OK?" Miles asked as he leaned toward her. 

"I was just thinking."

"I could see that. You are intriguing to watch. Not to mention beautiful!" Miles stood up and walked over to Ana. He knelt down and caught her mouth in a kiss. Now I know what she tastes like in the morning, he thought. Still sweet, with a hint of coffee. 

Ana thought, he drives me crazy, once he starts, I can't say no. Something came over her, beginning to be familiar, the sensation she got when Miles was close. He finished kissing her. "MMmmm. You taste good."

"So do you," she said.

"Speaking of tasting, I don't really have anything to offer for breakfast. I'm pretty much a coffee person in the morning. I like to eat an early lunch. Unless I'm working in the vineyard, then I eat whenever I get hungry."

"I'm not a breakfast person, either."

"Do you want to take a shower, or anything? I guess I should also tell you to do whatever you normally do in the morning." As Miles spoke, he rubbed his hands lightly across her breasts.

"Well," she answered, "On Sunday, I drink coffee and do the crossword. When I'm home. That reminds me, I need to call my mother." Seeing Miles questioning expression, she added, "They're up at their lake house, and I said I might come by today." Miles pulled Ana's robe closed again and stood up.

"What are you going to tell them?" Miles asked. "Should I assume that you're not going to be entirely honest?" 

"Its not that I'm embarrassed, or ashamed. I just need to get them prepared slowly. I know Daddy will be devastated about Greg."

"What? Is something wrong?"

"I guess I didn't tell you. I broke off with Greg last week." She added quickly, "before I knew if I'd see you again. I could just tell it wasn't right between us. Unfortunately, he had been talking to my father and planned to propose to me. I stopped him in time, then, I guess you could say I dumped him. I couldn't let him go on, waiting for me."

"Does your father expect to be asked?" Miles raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you say last night that you didn't need your parents approval?" He eyed her. "You look pretty 

grown up to me."

"Well, that's another problem with Greg. He always involved Mother and Daddy in everything. He sometimes acted more like they were his parents than mine. But, his parents are quite elderly, and they don't live near here. Greg sort of adopted my parents when we started dating, and they sort of adopted him back. It made everything so simple, at least at first. The only thing missing was me. I was never quite with the program."

Miles leaned toward Ana. "Don't take the blame. Maybe the only thing missing was...love." He leaned toward her , took her hand and kissed it. "You know, Ana, it's my goal to make you fall in love with me. And, I don't expect to involve your parents, at least not until later on. This is between us. Two consenting adults."

"Miles, I find you very attractive. And, I like being with you. But, I don't know how you can know you're in love with someone you've only known for two weeks. My God, we've not even had a real date!"

"My feelings are real," Miles said. 

"I'm not questioning you, its me. Can we just go along, and see what happens?"

"Ok," he said, starting to laugh. "Guess what's happening now?" He stood up, took the coffee cup from Ana and sat it down. He stood in front of her, between her legs, and bent over. He untied the bathrobe, and pulled it off her shoulders. "Getting warm in here," Miles said, then untied his own robe. He pulled Ana up, and hugged against her, body to body. . Ana felt the sensation again, an electricity, her skin tingling, thoughts of everything else seemed to melt, she was only aware of touching Miles, being touched by Miles, being close to Miles, it was as if all the world stopped moving.

"Ana," Miles ended the kiss and spoke to her. "Just know this. I love making love to you. But I would be in love with you even if we hadn't. Its only one piece, even though it's an important piece."

Ana felt like she must say something. "I can say truthfully that I've never felt like this with anyone. Its almost like I never really knew what being in love was like, until you."

Miles smiled. "I think we'd better get dressed. Otherwise, I'll want to spend the whole day inside with you. Not that it would be all bad. But there are things to do."

"Yes. I'd better make that phone call before I forget."

"You can use my phone. It's in the kitchen."

"No, I'll use my cell. They'll see what number I'm calling from and start asking questions."

"I'll give you some privacy. I'm going to go get cleaned up a little." He started toward the bathroom, then stopped. "Ana. I meant it when I told you that I do want to meet your parents. But I respect that you can't drop in with a new man in your life. Whenever you're ready, I'm up for it. I'll even get cleaned up - no muddy work boots!" Ana felt ashamed, remembering her earlier impressions of Miles. 




In the Vineyard Ch. 08



"I'm sure that they'll be crazy about you, when the time comes," Ana said. She wasn't really certain at all what her parents would say, but as Miles said, they were two consenting adults. 

Miles went into the bathroom and Ana called the lake house. Her parents were early risers. Thankfully her mother answered the phone. She dreaded talking to her father about Greg.

"Mother, its me."

"Ana, where are you?"

"I, I can't come up today?"

"Oh, Ana. I assumed you were in your car on the way."

"No. I ended up out with Vern and Chris and Mary Pringle last night."

"I thought you were spending Friday with them."

Ana tried to remember what she'd told her mother before. She decided not to be too specific. Lying to her mother was something she'd gotten used to, something she started as a child and never grew out of. "Well, we ended up last night all going to the winery."

"The winery! Did you drink too much? Is that what's wrong?"

"No, mother. There are things to do besides drink. They have these cook outs, and they have live music. The Stones even brought Alicia." Ana thought for a second. "Oh, and there was a newspaper reporter here. Cassy Combs, from the Messenger."

It turned out to be the right thing to say. "Cassy Combs," her mother said excitedly. "We read her every week! She's so knowledgeable."

"And, she brought a photographer. There's going to be a big thing in the paper this week."

"Really, honey. Now, that sounds like a nice time. Did you get to meet Cassy?"

Ana pictured Cassy late last night and tried not to laugh. "Yes, I did. She's one interesting person!"

"Well, I'm so glad about that. I worry about you. But it can only do you good to be around people like Cassy Combs."

Ana suppressed a giggle. Here was her mother, pointing out Cassy Combs as a role model. If she only knew! "I can honestly say that being around her was an educational experience," she told her mother.

"Well, honey. We don't want to use up your phone time. Your father and I are going to stay tonight, then come back Tuesday or Wednesday, start getting our house there in order before we move back in for the winter. Maybe we can get together then, for dinner or something."

"Yes, that would be nice." Ana added sharply, "As long as you don't try to 'surprise' me with Greg, or anything."

"No, of course not. We just miss seeing you."

"Give me a call, then."

"Love you, honey."

"Love you too. And, love to Daddy."

She turned off the telephone. That wasn't as bad as she had feared. She could hear water running in the bathroom - Miles was still cleaning up. Ana picked up both coffee cups and carried them to the kitchen. She saw a built in dishwasher and opened it. It was empty, looked practically unused. She thought about it, then put the cups on the rack. Cooking an entire meal would create quite a few dirty dishes.

Ana walked up the steps, and looked through her bag. She opted for the skirt with the sweater set, and found the light colored silk bra and panties she had packed. Looking at the sweaters - the sleeveless was sheer, but the cardigan was more substantial - she decided to go without a bra today. Somehow it seemed like it would be uncomfortable. She remembered that her green underwear went off with Miles' laundry and wondered if the cleaners would notice. She came back down the stairs. Miles was back in the kitchen, turning off the coffee maker and dumping the grounds in a trash container under the sink. 

"I hope that you had enough coffee," he said.

"I have. Looks like you have too. I put the cups in the dishwasher."

"I don't use it much. But it does work. Jimmy ran it the other day."

"Is he your maid?"

Miles laughed. "Not usually. But he did clean up after Thursday's debacle."

"That's right. He told me. So, did you win anything? At poker?"

"No. I was pretty useless most of the night. I guess I was drowning my sorrows. Pretty stupid, too, at my age." He felt required to add '39' if you wonder. "The big four oh next February."

"I would have guessed younger. But, it doesn't matter. I'm 32, for what it's worth. I'm going to clean up and get dressed."

"Make yourself at home. I mean that sincerely. In fact, while we're out today I'll get a key made for you."

"Thanks," said Ana. She felt that she should reciprocate, but was she ready for that? She instinctively feared the idea. She went toward the bathroom and turned on the shower. She decided to take a quick rinse, especially after sleeping part of the night practically on the floor. As she stood in the shower, she remembered yesterday afternoon's shower with Miles. She could almost see him, feel him. Then she had a sudden image of herself, in bed back at the condo, nearly asleep late at night, and she saw a dark figure quietly coming into the room, climbing into the bed. Her imagination kept composing the story. It was her gentle rape fantasy again. The stranger would kiss her nude body softly until she woke up. Then, she would start to cry out, in fear, but he would kiss her lips until she was calm and quiet. He would make love to her, until they both fell asleep, exhausted and sweaty, then he would disappear in the early morning, like some dream or vision. But a sound disturbed her reverie. 

"You ok in there?" Miles said, sounding concerned. Ana realized that she had been in the shower far longer than she planned.

"Yes, fine. Just lost in thought." She decided that giving Miles a key was the right thing to do.

Half an hour later, Ana and Miles were walking toward the vines. He had a tool with him, a refractometer. In fact, it was the same thing that Ana saw Cassy Combs looking through yesterday.Ana was wearing the skirt and sweater set, and added her work coat and boots for the outside trek. Miles had on jeans and a brown plaid flannel shirt. He was wearing his brown cloth work coat as well - the fading color of his coat showed years of wear compared to Ana's purchased just a week ago.

"I know that they're ready," Miles said. "They were essentially ready yesterday. It's just the logistics of picking. Even if we frost, we'll be ok. The only real worry would be something freaky, like a hailstorm. "

"So, this is a good year? What made it good?"

"Ample rain and sun early. Sort of cool in the middle. That didn't really make any difference, it stayed sunny and we had about average rain. But, the heat at the end of the summer - look at yesterday - felt more like June than October - meant that we had a long ripening season for the reds. And, they take quite a few more days to get fully ripe. If we get an early frost, they essentially come to a standstill, and we get what we get. Which means, too little alcohol. Then, to get something decent, people do all kinds of things that I don't like to do."

"Like what?"

"Add sugar, to kick up the alcohol. But, you can taste it, believe me. I just don't release a vintage for the reds on an off year. I'll blend them with someone else, hold it back, whatever. We just released my vintage from 3 years ago now - you remember it, you came out to taste it . "

"I remember. The wine was very good, but ...."

"But the company wasn't...." Miles interrupted.

"I wasn't going to say that."

"Let's just say our signals were mixed that night. Anyway, I'm glad you tried again!" He took her hand as they walked toward the grapes. They paused at the edge of the clearing. The morning's mist was just breaking up, and the dew on the vines sparkled a little as the sun climbed in the sky. The leaves were beginning to show signs of turning as well - here and there the greens were turning to light amber and golden colors.

"Miles, its so beautiful," Ana said. She was overcome by the sight. Looking down from their angle, the vines stretched on and one, long rows that looked like one solid plant with multiple trunks going down.

"It is, isn't it?" But Miles sounded distracted. "Trouble is, this isn't the best place to plant. Too flat. Not protected enough. Now, what I will find is a south facing slope, gently rolling hills. Some protection from the wind and cold." He looked over at Ana. "But I digress. I was about to show you how I measure how much sugar, or brix, or potential alcohol is in these grapes. " He looked back down. "I hope Manny got a good picture of this. Did I tell you my plans for next year?"

"Plans for here?"

"Yeah." He looked at her. "I won't let Jack down, as long as he needs me here, I'll stay. But, once Jack is gone, I'm gone, too. Hopefully between the three of them - Todd, Brandon and Jimmy, they'll make it work. But, as long as Jack is around, I report to him. I refuse to answer to Todd. Anyway, one of the things I plan is to put tables out there - around the clearing, around the vines. And set up some music in the clearing. Of course, we'll have to move our pile."

"I was going to ask about that. The pile where Jimmy and I took the vines and wood yesterday. What is it?"

"Those are the clippings from pruning. After we finish picking, we'll burn it all, but we don't dare before then - the heat will singe the grapes."

"You get that much wood from pruning?"

"More than you imagine. And, we add some other wood to the pile to dry. The logs you split yesterday." He smiled at the thought and pictured her yesterday swinging the splitting maul. "Most of what you see on the vines will be cut off sometime next winter or spring. Like picking, it's a guessing game - you have to cut them back, but don't dare cut back too far until you're sure what's alive and what it isn't."

"OK," she said. "Now I have two questions. Number 1, what is your other plan?"

"That's easy. Dinners in the cellar. Limited to approximately 20. Multi course. Catered, we won't attempt to cook for that. Although Jimmy probably could, he's quite a cook. I'm in touch with several restaurants, including Novo Madrid. What we need to decide is whether to feature one restaurant per event, or have each do courses for each. Candlelight, cellar tours, the works. During the winter, of course, during the down season when people don't want to be outside. What's question number two?"

Ana replied, "Maybe this is stupid, or too obvious, but it seems clear to me that Jimmy is your number two guy here. And everyone likes Brandon. He is a great entertainer. But, Todd is such a creep. And, I'm not just going on what I think, or you. He doesn't' seem to be anybody's mister popularity. So he may be older, and he may wear suits, but why does anyone thing he can run things here? I mean, he was briefly charming with me, but I can tell that he doesn't do any actual work. I've been around too many like him in business before."

"Score Ana a ten for perceptiveness."

"You're making fun of me!"

"No, I'm not. You want to know something?"

"Depends on what it is?"

"I like to watch your eyes. As the nuns say, they really are the window to the soul. Your eyes move fast and they make quick decisions. I could see right away from your eyes that you are a lot more than beautiful. I see a big, beautiful, well exercised brain behind those eyes. I have a weakness for intelligent women - my mother is quite intelligent, you'll find."

"Miles, you're avoiding my question. But, what about your mother? Will I meet her soon?"

"As soon as you like. After this week. After we pick, I have a few weeks of reprieve before we press the grapes. I only have to be fanatical a few times a day instead of all day. We don't push the caps down by hand, like we used to, anymore. The crushed red grapes ferment for a while in bulk, and they solidify on the top. The top, or cap, has to be pushed down so the grapes ferment evenly. You like to cook - do you make bread?"

"I have. I make a mean baguette, for what its worth."

"There are lots of parallels. But bread makers knead, we punch the caps down. Or, we do it mechanically. But I still like to watch. You'll see."

As they talked, the mist had melted. The sun rose and the day was beginning to get warm. Miles took off his coat. "Come on, let's get through this. Then we'll head for Jacks. What question was I ignoring?"

"Why don't Brandon and Jimmy...."

"Oh. Well, I'm embarrassed to say it, because I love him, but Jack simply isn't tolerant of any alternative lifestyle. Some sort of guilt thing - his wife, Todd and Brandon's mother - died when Brandon was twelve. Todd was already away in college. Somehow, Jack thinks that he caused Brandon to be the way he is because he raised him without a mother. I've gone through it with him, and so has Jimmy. Jack likes Jimmy, by the way. And he loves Brandon. But he's just so old fashioned that he somehow can't accept them. And, look at Todd. Beautiful wife, wonderful kids, and he acts like an ass. Believe me, he wouldn't have turned down anything Cassy Combs offered."

Ana remembered Jimmy saying something similar about Todd's wonderful family.

"Miles, its so funny. My mother thought that Cassy Combs would be a good influence on me." She laughed. Miles wasn't laughing.

"Ana, do you want a piece of unsolicited advice? If you want to be treated like a grown up at 32, stop looking to your parents for approval of everything you do. Otherwise, they'll keep ruling your life."

Ana was surprised by Miles' sharp words. She was ready to react, but he was going down the hill as if nothing in particular happened. Maybe he's tired, she thought. No need to make a big deal. After all, she was a grown up. She had a place to live, a car, friends, and she'd certainly get another important job after a short break. Miles couldn't seriously think she was still acting like a child. Still, it bothered her. I guess I am a little old to be calling my mother with an excuse whenever I don't come by for the weekend. But, she reassured herself, I was just being polite. She had to almost run to catch up with Miles. He was all business at this point. 

"Here," he said, pricking into a grape. He looked into the device, then showed her. 'What's it say?"

'Twenty four, if I read it right."

"That's right. Just over half that in alcohol. Twelve and a half, thirteen percent ."

"That sounds good."

"That is good for us. We'll pick tomorrow, Tuesday, and I plan on Thursday or Friday. Can I count on my ace picker this week?"

"Of course. But, it will be hard to stay away from you."

"Not that hard. Work is work. I can hold your hand at lunch." She gave him a concerned look.

"Oh, I forgot. Uncle Chester will go running to Mummy and Daddy."

"Miles, don't be mean."

"What do you expect me to say? Everyone here, plus your friends, plus even The Messenger for gosh sake, everyone knows about us. And, Ana, I will accept that you need time to get your parents used to the idea, given the circumstances with Greg. But, does that mean that everyone who knows them, plus friends of friends, plus relatives of friends, plus friends of relatives of friends..."

"Point taken. Of course we can hold hands at lunch." She felt compelled to send a shot his way. "As long as it doesn't interfere with the work."

"Touche. Don't worry about Chester. He's cooler than you give him credit for. Just be honest with him. I've known him for a few years, not as long as you, but I would say that I've seen the real Chester. Or at least the real Chester after a few glasses of wine. If you ask him to give us some space before you talk to your parents, I'm sure he'll respect that. Confidentially, Chester Van Meter is one horny dude!"

"Miles! Not Uncle Chester."

"That's what I mean. I know him better than you think. What he really wants is a woman - mature, but not old, and a little on the flashy side. And, he likes what they call 'Big, Beautiful women.' No thin model-types for him. You should hear him talk when you're not around."

"You're making that up."

"Am not."

"Are too." 

Miles started running away from her, up the hill. "Am not. Catch me, if you can."

"Not fair," Ana gasped. "I'm wearing a dress."

"I'll slow down," Miles called back to her. Keeping his word, he slowed to a walk. He walked slowly along, looking forward. Ana kicked up her speed. She got closer, within ten yards, five, closer, she sped up. She gave herself a push forward, trying to tackle him from behind. Miles, anticipating this, turned, and caught her up in his arms. She was laughing by this time, he was as well. He held onto her, then lifted her up. She was surprisingly light, he thought. Miles held Ana suspended off the ground for a minute, then he slung her over his shoulder, her head hanging down.

"Miles," she started pounding her fists on his back. "I'm getting dizzy. I'll be sick."

He kept walking on. As he walked, he let her body drop so her head went closer to the ground. Miles misjudged and dropped Ana more than the couple of inches he planned, but she was still well above the ground.

"Miles. This isn't fair. Stop it."

"This is what happens to bad little girls. Who try to knock me down."

"Bad little girls? Miles, I didn't try to knock you down."

He stopped. Miles had not gone back toward the winery as Ana expected. Instead, he had gone to the east of the vineyard. They were now standing on the edge of a small creek. Miles walked toward the creek and then actually stood in the water. Ana remembered that he was wearing those high rubber boots. 

"Oh, you didn't, did you?" He was still laughing as he lowered her body toward the water, little by little.

"Miles, don't drop me." Feeling herself sinking, Ana clung to him. "Please, Miles."

"Tell the truth. You were trying to knock me down."

Ana was trying unsuccessfully to climb back up Miles back. "Oh, you, you..." she felt herself getting lower. "You win. Yes, I was trying to knock you down, but please stop abusing me." Miles kept lowering her.

"Miles, what do you want me to say?" Miles had stopped moving her downward.

"Hmmm. What an interesting question. Now, how should I respond?"

"By turning me right side up." Ana added, "Please."

"Your wish is my command, oh princess," Miles responded. He began walking up the creek, still holding Ana upside down.

"Please," she said. "Pretty please."

Miles took some twenty steps, then stopped. He put his arms around Ana's waist, then flipped her around and she ended up seated on a large flat rock overhanging the creek. Ana had to stop for a minute to catch her breath.

Now that she was safe, she was angry. "Why did you do that?"

Miles didn't seem at all flustered. "I have an aversion to being attacked from the rear," he responded. "And, you are so light - I thought I'd give you a rest."

"That's bullshit Miles. So you are bigger and stronger than I am. Pushing me around won't be tolerated. You scared me to death. That's physical abuse. Have you abused other women? What's your point, to show that you can control me?"

"No...at least I don't think so. And, I never would have actually put you in the water. Believe me, it's cold." Miles stepped out of the creek and sat beside her on the rock. Ana moved to the far edge. All ass holes think that they are not abusive, she thought.

"Ana. Please don't be angry. I was just playing. I would never hurt a hair on your head."

"You win. No hairs hurt." Ana was leaning back, enjoying the attention.

"You're right. I do win. I get to try for the grand prize," Miles said. 

"What's that?"

"You!" Miles replied. "Enough of the great outdoors. Lets get back and hit the road!" He helped Ana up and they walked back, hand in hand. He is so gentle, she was thinking. Why didn't I realize that he was just playing around before? 

"Miles," she began. 

"Its all ok," he interrupted. "Right? You won't jump on my back, I won't dangle you over cold water." He looked at her. "Next time, jump on my front. I won't fight back."

Ana smiled. She felt strangely happy. "Miles, I..." she didn't know quite what to say. "I really like being with you. You have this way of challenging me, and, at the same time, making me feel really appreciated. Thank you."




In the Vineyard Ch. 08



"No, thank you. But, I'm glad you said it like that. It gives me hope. About us. And, it makes me think that I'm not wasting my effort being in love with you." Ana heard those words and wondered. What sort of a man believes that he is in love after a three day relationship? A man who admits that he has had no sex partners for years? Obviously, Ana thought, this man is lost and looking to be found. Was she in the same circumstance, equally lost, looking to get away from Greg? Miles walked a few steps in front of her. They were, by this time, almost back to the winery building. 

"I love you, Ana Palmer," Miles yelled. He ran a few steps forward and yelled back to her. "I love you, I love you, I LOVE YOU!"

Ana was comfortable knowing that no one was around on a Sunday morning. 

Then she heard a voice. "Miles, is that you?" It was the unmistakable sound of Cassy Combs. Of course! She was back for her car!

Miles ignored it. He ran some steps forward. He was coming up on the amphitheater now. Seeing the structure, he got an idea. Miles walked into the amphitheater, and stood on the stage. "I love Ana Palmer!" he shouted. He shouted it from each angle of the stage. "I love her! I love Ana! I love you, Ana! I love you!"

Ana made it up to the edge of the amphitheater. Miles jumped off the stage. 

"I love you," he said to her. 

"I heard," she said back. 

"What did I tell you?" Cassy had walked out toward them. "One in a billion." Apparently Cassy's memory of last night was quite clear. "Ana, what do you say back?" asked Cassy. "What's your response?"

Miles jumped in. "That's not fair. Ana can take her own time."

"Come on, Ana. Lets hear it. What's your response?" Cassy was using her reporter voice.

Ana looked at Miles, at Cassy and back again. Think, Ana, she said to herself. What did people in love act like? There were Vern and Chris, they were in love. Why not Ana and Miles? They were nothing like Ana and Greg, or, she realized, like her mother and father. Is that what is was? Ana barely recognized love, so she wouldn't admit it? Think, Ana. Do what your heart tells you.

"I think I love you, Miles Delong. No, I do love you. " Ana heard herself say. Her intellect added something. "At least I think this is what love feels like."

"I won't let anything hurt you. Ever." It was Miles, standing close to her.

"Now, that's what I call a happy ending," said Cassy Combs. She walked back toward the parking lot. "Come visit me sometime when you're in the city. We'll do lunch. On me!"

Miles had wrapped his arms around Ana. She buried her head in his shoulders. "We'll take you up on that," he shouted back toward Cassy. "I have some other winery plans you might be interested in." Ana thought, he always keeps half his brain on business. They stood there, embracing, for several minutes. 

"I didn't' mean for this to happen like that," said Miles, after Cassy drove away. "If you want to tell me you don't mean it, its ok. "

"No. I believe that I do mean it. From the inside of me. From the heart, you might say."

Miles smiled. "I know that I said that was a goal, but it doesn't mean that I'll stop trying. I won't stop trying to make you happy. "

"I thought we were going to hit the road," Ana said. 

"You're right. I need to lock up."

They walked back in the front door of Miles home. He excused himself to go to the bathroom, and Ana started to gather her things and put them back in the overnight bag. Miles came out as she brought it back down the stairs.

"I guess you won't be staying tonight"

"I didn't really pack for it. I only planned for one night."

"Most people want fresh underwear every day, don't they," Miles said, smiling.

"At the least." 

Miles stopped by the cabinet where the computer was stored. He opened it up and pushed some buttons on the computer. Within seconds, a weather map materialized. "Clear today. And for awhile," Miles said. He put the computer back on standby and closed the door. "Do you need to do anything? Brush your teeth, whatever?"

"No. I'm fine. I'm ready."

"I just need to grab something," said Miles. He went back into the kitchen and rustled around. Ana didn't see what he took, but he emerged carrying a paper bag.

"Ready," Miles opened the door and Ana went out. Miles locked the door.

"Hey, I didn't ask. Do you want me to drive my truck or do you want to take your car? It doesn't matter to me. Just be warned that the truck is a little rough. But it is dependable."

"We can take my car," Ana said. "In my opinion it cost too much, but it is a great car, with a smooth ride. And a CD changer, sunroof, and all of the latest safety features."

"OK by me." They walked around to the cars. Ana unlocked the car with the key. She held to key toward Miles. She was surprised when he shook his head. 

"Your car. You can drive." Seeing Ana's expression, he added, "I know, I've seen you."

She forced a smile "Of course I can drive. I just assumed you would."

"Isn't that just a little sexist, Ana? " Miles asked. "Man drives, woman rides. What's the point? Besides, its been a long time since I've driven a small car. I'm used to a full sized pick up. Doesn't it make sense that you drive?"

"I guess so." Ana opened the driver side door and sat down. Miles got in the passenger side. It might make sense, but she felt awkward - Greg always drove, no matter whose car they took. She started the car and was mildly annoyed when Miles leaned back the seat, relaxing.

"Go back into Creekboro, first. I want to make one stop there. Do you know the way?"

She practically snapped. "Of course. How do you think I got here, if I didn't go through Creekboro?" 

"Sorry. I just wanted to make certain. As you get into town, you'll make an immediate left." He sat up and looked at her. Something had her upset.

He needed to figure out what he had done, or said. I think I've been alone too long, he thought. 

Ana drove down the road slightly above the speed limit. She passed a police car, then slowed down. Miles turned back.

"He didn't turn back. I forgot to tell you, they're bad on Sundays here."

Ana was silent, concentrating on driving. If he insists that I drive, then I'll drive, she thought. She drove on, watching her speed.

"Stop," said Miles suddenly. 

"What? " asked Ana, still going forward. 

"You missed the turn. Either stop and turn around or take the next left that looks like a through street."

Ana had driven into Creekboro without noticing. She slowed, then took the next left. 

"And left again," said Miles.

"I could figure that," said Ana. She turned. "Tell me where I'm going," she said.

"Just a couple of blocks. Little hardware store. You'll see it up here, on the corner."

Sure enough, they came up on the Wichert Brothers Hardware Store. The 'Open' sign was displayed in the window Ana parked the car and shut the engine off. 

"Keys," Miles reminded Ana. He got out of the car, carrying the bag, and Ana followed him inside. The store was dimly lit. Two men sat on stools behind a counter, one a thin older man with a gray beard, the other, similar looking, but his beard was black. They were nearly identically dressed in camouflaged pants and long underwear shirts Each had a plate of food in front of him. As Miles entered, the older of the men said, "Well, here he is." Ana had the impression that Miles came in frequently on Sundays. 

"We've got extra in the back," said the younger man. He spoke with a mild southern accent. "Get yerself a plate," Then he noticed Ana. "Hey, pop. Look who's got himself a friend. Hello, Miss," he addressed Ana, smiling.

The older man squinted at Ana, but didn't say anything to her. He instead spoke to Miles. "Looks like you got lucky. You better be actin' like a gentleman these days."

Miles grinned. "You bet I am."

"Me and pop wondered who it was pullin' in here in that fancy yellow car. We'd a never guessed in a thousand years it was our friend Miles."

"This is my friend Ana. That's her car."

"Please to meet you," the older man said. "Tim, where are your manners?" The father carried his place of food through a narrow door behind where they sat. The son followed. They emerged, minus the food, the father wiping his hands on a cloth that he handed to his son.

"Now, what can we do for you?" 

"Couple of keys," said Miles. Ana saw Tim grinning at this. Miles removed two keys from a ring he pulled out of his pocket. He extracted another key with an odd shape from a different ring. The old man picked up the keys and took them to a machine sitting on the side of the counter. Tim was still staring at Ana, and she started to feel uncomfortable. Miles, noticing this, spoke to Tim over the whir of the key machine. "Good year for grapes," he said.

"That's good. You know, me and pop keep meaning to get over there and see that place. We always like the wine you bring. You didn't happen to bring any with you, this time?" 

"Of course," said Miles. "He opened the bag and extracted two bottles. "The labels came out wrong, I can't sell these. Consider it an early Christmas gift!"

"Doubt if we'll wait that long," said Tim. "Lookee, pop." The old man looked over and nodded. He had finished the second key and was comparing it to the original. Tim carried the wine back to the back room. Miles called after him. "Don't let us interrupt your breakfast. We're leaving in a minute, anyway." Tim emerged with his plate looking grateful and sat back on the stool. The old man finished the third key, and placed all six down in front of Miles. "Let me see, " he said. "Make it two dollars, even." Miles removed a wallet from his pocket. 

"Wait," said Ana. She had been trying to decide whether or not to offer her condo key. It'll be ok, she said to herself. Its just for an emergency. If something happens, I can always get the locks changed. She removed the key from her ring. 

"You don't have to," Miles said. 

"No, I want to." But Ana was confused. Just a short time before, she was professing her love, then, something small, like making her drive, managed to upset her, even though he apparently didn't notice her reaction. 

Miles handed the three keys one by one to Ana. "Front door. Office." He smiled at her, handing her the last odd shaped key. "Tractor." She thought again that he was making fun of her, but he looked genuine. He looked back at Tim. "You should see this beautiful lady work around the vineyard. She not only lifts the lugs of grapes, she can drive a tractor and split logs!"

"Sounds like you found a keeper," the old man called over the whir of the key machine. He finished the key and handed them to Ana. "This character can be a rascal," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "What he needs is a good woman, settle his ass down. Sounds like you're the type that can keep him in line!" He grinned. "That being the case, no charge for this one - still two dollars even!"

Miles laughed and paid. "I think you're right. She's one special lady!"

Ana smiled at Miles and handed him the key. "Front door," she said. He placed it on his large key ring. 

"We'll see you later," said Miles, walking out the door. 

"Make sure you get back here for some deer here soon." Said the older man. 

"Why don't you go huntin' with us this year?" the son asked.

"I'm a farmer, not a hunter," Miles responded. 

"Think about it," said Tim. "You lady friend might be impressed if you bring home a six point buck." 

Miles laughed back. "We'll see. Later," he said opening the door. He was still carrying the bag. Seeing Ana look at it. "I'm taking some wine to Jack, too. I want him to try a few things. He's not supposed to drink much because he's on some medication. But he can taste, even if he has to spit."

Ana paused again before getting into the car. Miles saw her hesitation. He had a guess as to what had upset her.

"Look, Ana. It doesn't bother me if you drive. I'm not that insecure. And, I know that you're pretty, well, pretty independent. " Miles almost said 'headstrong,' but decided that might be taken as an insult. "We can make our own rules. It doesn't have to be man on top every time, you know." Despite herself, Ana laughed.

"You're right. I'm just so used to being with Greg - he always drove, even my car, from the first date. But, I don't mind driving. I used to drive a lot of the time for work."

"I'll make you a deal - you drive there, I'll drive back. Fair?"

"Fair," she said.

They got in the car. "Just get on the highway and head east," said Miles. He was glad he brought up the driving question. He liked the side of Ana that was more daring and confident, and one thing he really didn't like was women who acted weak. 

Ana was silent as she drove toward the freeway. Maybe Miles was right, she thought. So much of the time, she felt Greg wanted to stifle her, to limit her. And, for years, she fought back, although she had long since given up questioning little things, like who drove, or who paid at a restaurant. Even after the divorce, Greg always paid. She thought about that - maybe if she had made more of a point of showing that she was a separate person, even by asking for separate checks, maybe then, Greg, even her parents, would start taking her more seriously. But, whatever else, Miles didn't seem to find her aggressive side any less attractive. In fact, he preferred that part of her, she decided. 

"I planned that we would go visit Jack for a couple of hours, depending on how he feels, then we'll go do the shopping. And, we can stop for lunch in between. I know a nice little place. I'm hoping that we can talk Jack into going out with us. I suspect he hasn't been outside for the last week or so, and getting out usually does him some good."

Ana nodded. She drove on, following the signs on the interstate for Mount Union. Miles suggested that she take an earlier exit than she'd planned. "It's a much more attractive drive, not that much slower. And, frankly, I'm not a fan of high speed highway driving, if I can help it." Ana agreed and pulled off the highway. "Turn left, " said Miles as they came to a stop sign. An arrow pointed to the left - Mount Union, 10 miles. 

Ana stopped, then made the turn. She felt suddenly calmer, and could see that the highway driving had indeed been stressful on her, although she hadn't realized it at the time. She noticed right away that the terrain was different than either the bustling, growing suburban area she lived in or the rural quiet of the winery's surroundings. This part of the state was taken up with small farms. Ana was glad she had instinctively adapted a slow and leisurely pace - just a few yards from the highway, she came up behind a buggy full of Amish. She waited until the road was clear, then passed them. Miles looked out and waved as they drove by. The rolling hills ahead were covered variously with animals - sheep, cattle and a few horses. Antique farm houses sat well back from the road at the ends of long gravel or dirt lanes. 

"Jack wanted to get out of the city," Miles explained. "Mount Union is a nice size of town. Small enough for a WalMart, anyway. And, its not as far as you'd think - depending on what side of the capital you're going to, it doesn't take much longer than going from the winery. The interstate runs a little eastward. And the traffic is usually going at high speed. In fact, one of the reasons I don't like to take the highway all of the way is that the Mount Union interchange has been so built up during the last few years. Its covered with fast food, gas stations, and strip malls. Taking this way, we'll sneak into the old downtown part of Mount Union."

Ana drove along, thinking. She knew that this visit to Jack was important to Miles, but she wondered what to expect. She had only once seen old Mr. Formby, and never met him. She tried to imagine someone who Miles respected, but who also had that intolerant attitude about Brandon's lifestyle. She had difficulty fitting those two parts into one person. 

The countryside began to be more populated, the houses were closer to the road, and closer to one another. The nice weather brought many people out, sitting on their porches, mowing the grass, children playing with dogs. Miles seemed to need to fill the silence.

"Probably the last time this year to mow. We'll see the cold moving in next week, I'd guess." He looked over at Ana. "Hey, are you OK? You seem quiet? Not still mad that I made you drive, are you?"

Ana wasn't sure why she felt quiet. She shook her head to Miles question about the driving. "I guess I'm just thinking a lot. Typical quiet Sunday behavior."

"I guess I should have asked if you usually go to church. You might assume that I don't. Just got out of the habit when I moved out to the winery. Too busy, and nothing really close. One small church in Creekboro, and it's drive to town otherwise."

"Me neither," said Ana. "I haven't been since Easter."

"Maybe its something worth thinking about," said Miles. "Everybody needs to believe in something."

Ana agreed. "But, I tend to need it more sometimes than others."

"Maybe its more important when you're younger. I was just thinking that I went every week when I was little, and I joined a youth group as a teenager. And, I've told you that my dad was a musician. He used to play at the church for holidays and special events. The people at our church usually booked his band to play their receptions or parties. Maybe having that early exposure to faith and prayer gave me something to fall back on when things got tough." Miles was very thoughtful. "Not that it was entirely successful. I still went through a pretty deep depression and some self abuse for awhile." 

"I guess I would agree, I mean about an early exposure to church. I was a far better churchgoer when I was younger. As I got older, I fell out. Greg was Catholic - I'm not, and never converted - so we went to the Cathedral for the major holidays, but really no other time. Miles nodded. They sat in silence for a minute. Ana began to be uncomfortable and was relieved when Miles broke the silence. "Hey, Ana?" He, too found the silence awkward although he was enjoying looking at her.

"What is it?"

"I didn't mean to get too heavy or anything. And, don't get the wrong idea, I'm very open minded about religion. I've read a lot of different things, and I think there are good points made in a lot of different...flavors of religions. But, I thought that maybe we should start talking about some things other than, you know, wine, sex, and how beautiful you are." He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the side of her face. "And you are beautiful, by the way. You grow on me every day."

Ana laughed. "You grow on me, too. Or at least your beard does!"

Miles pretended hurt feelings. "Hey, my strength is in this beard. Cut it off, and I won't last as long. During sex, I mean."

Last as long, Ana thought to herself, who's he kidding? Ana was beginning to realize how inept a lover Miles was, but she wasn't ready to tell him so.

"Oh, no, don't do that. I'm just starting to get used to making love with you. But, I...we... need more practice. "

"You've got it," Miles said. "Pull over here, if you like."

"You're kidding, " Ana said.

"Maybe. Or maybe not. Find an empty spot and see."

Ana looked over at Miles. His blue eyes were staring at her, teasing and challenging her. "I like that sweater," he said. I can see your nipples, if I'm at the right angle." He bent his head down and sideways. Ana was embarrassed. 

"Its not too see through, is it Miles?"

"Not really. I really, really have to strain. Now, if you take the cardigan off, that little thing beneath is somewhat risque."

"That's the point of wearing one over the other."

"I see. Just to tease the likes of me. To torture me with knowing what's there that I can't quite see."




In the Vineyard Ch. 09



Chapter 9

Ana stepped out from her car. She followed Miles as he walked to one of the numbered doors of the building where, she assumed, Jack lived. Clutched against his chest, Miles was carrying wine in a paper bag. The door was at ground level – Ana remembered that Jack had problems with arthritis. Miles stepped up to the door and knocked loudly. Without waiting, he opened it and called inside.

"Jack, it's me. Are you decent?" Miles signaled to Ana to step inside the door. The inside was in striking contrast to the outside – the furniture was all modern, mostly black, the look reminded Ana of Miles' living space, and she remembered that Jack had originally lived there and that he had furnished the place. So, she thought, this sparse Scandinavian style is Jack's taste, not necessarily Miles. 

"Miles? That you?" The voice came from down a hall off to the left. "Get me a cup of coffee, I'm dying in here!"

"Will do," said Miles. "Jack, I've got a lady friend with me."

"Just boil the water, and pour it through the filter. You know."

"Coffee coming right up," said Miles. He took Ana's hand and led her around the corner to a small kitchen. Miles sat the bag down. Just as Jack said, a small porcelain filter unit, complete with grounds, sat on top of a large cup. Miles picked up the kettle to see if it had water. Satisfied that it did, he turned the burner on. He started nosing around the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and started inspecting things. Ana watched him curiously. Miles walked back to the bag and removed a bottle of white wine. He placed it in the refrigerator and continued his inspection.

"Todd and Brandon don't seem to do this," Miles told her. "Jack just doesn't bother. But, I can't stand finding old, moldy stuff in here. So, whenever I come, I check." Miles was making a stack on the counter. An old styro foam container, some sort of take away food Ana guessed, a partial package of cheese Ana could see blue green mold on, a small package of lunch meat with a bad smell, and a small carton of half and half that Miles opened, sniffed and frowned at. Miles looked under the counter, found a trash bag and loaded the things. 

"I'm taking this out to the dumpster in the back. When the water boils, pour it through the filer until the cup fills. You have to pour it slowly, or it will overflow. I'll be right back."

Miles went out the door at the rear of the kitchen. Ana could see him going across a gravel lot to a row of brown dumpsters. Just then, the whistle on the kettle sounded. She turned off the burner.

"I need that coffee!" came the voice from down the hall. Ana was afraid to answer. She picked up the kettle and started to pour, slowly, watching the water go through the grounds. She had seen but had never used one of these manual filter devices. Thankfully, Miles came back into the room. 

"Looks like you've got things under control," he said.

"I guess so." 

"Go ahead, pour some more in. Then, we find another cup." Miles was looking and found another large cup. "And pour it back through a second time. Otherwise, it's too watery." 

Ana nodded. She filled the first cup. Miles moved the other cup close, then quickly moved the filter holder from one to the other. He made a small mess, but wiped it with a sponge. He lifted cup number one and poured it back through the grounds. When the second cup was full, Miles put the filter holder in the sink.

"I'll clean up before we leave. Lets get this coffee in there while it's still hot!"

Miles went through an alternate doorway to the kitchen, which led directly into the hall. Ana saw a couple of doorways, one on each side. Miles walked down to the doorway on the left and went in. 

"Its about time!" Ana heard the voice say.

"I'm glad you're decent. I have a friend here." Miles stepped back out of the room and looked toward Ana. She followed him.

Miles went back inside the room. Ana stepped inside and saw an old man, sitting up in bed, wearing flannel pajamas. The man had wisps of unruly gray hair on a balding head. Perched on his nose was a pair of wire frame glasses. A television hung in the upper corner of the room on a black metal stand. As they walked in, the man picked up a remote control and turned off the football game he was watching. His attention was focused on the cup of coffee. 

"Jack, this is Ana," said Miles, putting his arm around her waist.

Jack didn't seem to notice her at all, Ana thought. He was sipping the coffee. After what seemed like too long, he spoke.

"About time you found a grown up female. Now, what are you going to do about that other problem?"
Miles laughed. "Jack, you challenge even me for being tactless. And, I've worked hard on my reputation."

Jack laughed at this. He finally looked at Ana, and she saw a curious, friendly face. Much more Brandon than Todd, she thought. 

"Hello there, young lady. Allow me to apologize. I am somewhat under the weather." He offered his hand.

Ana stepped forward. She shook the hand. "Please to meet you. Ana Palmer."

"Oh, Chester Van Meter's friend. " Jack looked at Miles. His eyes widened as he remembered something else. "And the former Mrs. Greg Romano. Now, I never would have expected this!"

Miles didn't answer. Ana looked over at him and noticed that he looked embarrassed. 

Jack went on. "Miles, after all of your talk. About what you would and wouldn't do…."

"Cut it out, Jack," said Miles. Ana could hear an edge in his voice.

Jack sat the coffee down. He was smiling. "Miles, I earned this. I can give you a hard time, if I like. How many times have I told you that what you need is a good woman? One good woman to make you forget all of the bad."

"You win, Jack. Of course, you were right."

"Damn straight. I've been right about all of it. " Jack picked up the coffee again and took a slurp. "This is good coffee, by the way."

"I ran it through two times."

"You tell me that, but I never bother. Takes too long. So, what about your other problem. Are you taking care of it?"

"Jack," Miles said, "I don't want to talk about that this second. Let's be social for a few minutes, so Ana can enjoy this visit. Then, I have some things to say to you too, we'll have some serious talk later. Fair?"

"Fair. Did you bring anything for the old man to taste?

"Of course," said Miles. "Let me go get things ready. " He paused, looking at Ana and Jack. "Can I trust you, you greedy old wolf?"

Jack laughed a hoarse laugh, which turned into a cough. He cleared his throat. "Unfortunately, yes. This wolf is all howl and no bite these days." Miles chuckled and went out of the room. Ana felt somewhat stranded. Miles wasn't ignoring her, but he and Jack seemed to be in their own world. 

"He's a good man." 

Ana looked up to see Jack speaking to her. He was using a quieter tone than she had heard so far.

"I think he is," she agreed.

"He tell you about things?"
Ana nodded. Jack looked thoughtful.

"I had a feeling. You're practically the first person he's told, including his best friend. But never be so naive to believe that he – or anyone else – has told you everything."

Ana thought that the best friend must be Jimmy. She said to Jack, "I assume he told you."

"No. His mother told me. He never talked to anyone about it. I mean, he talked to me, but only after I told him what I knew. But, he didn't tell me the story himself. And when anyone's story is passed through his mother, real facts are diluted. Telling you, that's a real breakthrough for him." Jack sipped on the coffee some more. "You think you can make it work? I mean, you two?"

"I'm not sure. We've only been involved two days. I hope so."

Jack sat the cup down He coughed, covering his mouth with his hand, than sat up straighter in bed. "Young lady, I want to tell you some things. First of all, I love that man like a son. And, I can't stand to see him hurt. Not with what he's been through, and what he's done for me. But you are obviously on the rebound from Greg Romano, and I like, and respect, Greg too. Looks like you're using Miles to get back at Greg. So, if you aren't serious, do everyone a favor, and go away." He stopped to see her reaction. Ana was stunned, but she managed to speak. 

"Please don't think that. I don't ever want to hurt Miles. I think I'm, I mean, I'm falling in love with him. Yes, it is serious."

Jack smiled. It was as if his harsh words were never spoken. "Glad to hear it. I can see that he's crazy for you. See it in his eyes. I can't remember seeing him look so happy."

The sound of footsteps intruded on their conversation. Miles came back into the room carrying a plastic crate in which he loaded wine bottles and glasses. The bottles had been opened and the corks reinserted.

"Miss me?" he asked to no one in particular. He pulled the cork off one bottle, a rose colored wine. Miles poured a small amount in one glass, handing it to Ana, then poured a swallow for Jack, and a slightly larger amount for himself. "Do you need to spit it out?" he asked Jack.

"No point. I didn't take my pills today. I'm not getting any better, and the pills just make me sleepy. I'd just as soon have some wine. "He looked wistful. "Miles, I'm not looking forward to this winter. The cold really gets to me." He swirled the wine, then took a sip. He swished it around in his mouth, then swallowed. He gulped down the rest. "Just a little too acidic."

Miles was nodding. "I thought so, too. You've got a good furnace here, don't you? I remember that you kept this place hot last winter."

"Its not the furnace. The cold just gets inside me, any more. Even last night, I woke up shivering."

Miles put his glass down. "Where's your thermostat? I'll set it to heat up in the middle of the night."

"No need. Brandon already did. I don't know how to describe it. A different kind of cold. Pour me something else." Miles pulled the cork from a bottle of red wine. He took a fresh glass. "Don't bother, " said Jack. "My taste isn't that sensitive these days." Miles poured and Jack tasted. "What's this?" He looked at the bottle, squinting through his glasses. "Non vintage, eh?" Jack sniffed. "You did good with these. I remember what you blended in this. But, you added something to get the color."

Miles grinned at him. "You caught me. Mostly Cab Franc, from two years ago – some of last year's reds, which were much better. But, not that much, maybe 20% - they were too good to waste. And, a little purchased Syrah – that's the color. Just a little blending magic, and it's a drinkable table red." He looked at Ana. Her glass was empty. "I'm sorry, sweet. I get caught up in trying to keep the old guy here guessing." He poured her the red in a fresh glass. Then he downed his own glass, an inch of the first wine was still in it. He poured himself a generous glass of the red. "I have to admit, I like this one." Miles sniffed and sipped.

"Miles," said Jack. "Why don't you show your friend my collection? We need to talk before I get sleepy again."

Miles looked at Ana. "He wants me to get you out of the room for a few minutes. Do you mind?"

Ana shook her head. Miles poured two more glasses of different wines – one red, and one white - and carried them. "Please follow me," he instructed. Ana came behind, carrying the current glass. He led her back down the hall to the kitchen. He opened a door on the other side of the kitchen. It led to a cozy room, furnished like a study, with bookcases along two of the walls, a desk and chair and a computer. But, what one was drawn to was the wine. Large wooden racks stretched from floor to ceiling on one entire wall. A rolling step ladder sat at one side. 

"This is the collection," said Miles. "He has stuff from all over the world. And, some really old stuff. "He turned to Ana. "You know, I should have brought your bottle." Ana looked at him. "The old bottle." Ana nodded. "Jack might have some idea about it. " Miles sat the two glasses down on coasters. "The white is a Trebbiano, the red my vintage Cab you tasted last week."

"What an impressive collection," Ana was surprised to see this much wine hidden in the nondescript little apartment.

"Will you be OK? I know what Jack is going to be on me about. But, I really do need to talk to him. And, Ana, I'm not trying to keep anything secret from you. It would be Ok with me if you stayed in there and listened. But Jack is old-fashioned – he won't be comfortable with that. Not yet, anyway. He's still the 'woman's place is in the home type.' But, once he gets to know you, he'll come around, I promise."

"Its no problem, Miles. Business is business. And, you don't necessarily want outsiders there."

"Ana, you are as far from an outsider as anyone could be. Anyway, something you said is what I want to talk about. About Brandon and Todd. I'm going to try again to get Jack to reconsider. In fact, I'm thinking now that maybe we should make Brandon General Manager for a while, to see how it goes. Then, maybe Jack will change his mind. I can stay on as the winemaker until Brandon gets more comfortable."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Ana wondered why Miles would relinquish his position. That didn't make sense. Why did he want out so bad?

"If it helps the winery ultimately, yes. I will move on, there is no doubt of that. It's just a matter of when. Besides," Miles was smiling. "My pay isn't based on how many hats I wear. I'm on a straight percentage. I have a multi year contract. The only negotiation comes when someone else owns the place. And, that was my idea, not Jack's. I didn't want Todd Formby owning my ass!" Miles looked up to see Ana's face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so crude. "

"No, I understand," Ana said. "And, I do think you should try to get Jack to change his mind about Brandon. I don't pretend to know the business, but I do know something about human nature. And, I can tell you, Brandon is someone people will like to deal with, Todd is not." She looked at Miles. "Just for what it's worth, from a semi interested third party."

"Will you be able to entertain yourself here? I shouldn't be too long."

"Take as long as you need. I'll be alright. I do have my car, if I get really bored, or I can walk back into town. What do you think, 20 minutes or so?"

"I don't think it'll be any longer. I'd say that Jack isn't going to go anywhere today. I know you don't know him, but he looks really bad. I don't think he'll have he energy to carry on a long exchange."

"I'm sure I'll have a good time just looking at his collection. Plus all of these books."

Miles turned to go. "Ana, I love you."

Ana wanted to say it back. She started, but something stopped her. "Miles, I..I wish you luck. I hope it goes well."

Miles walked back to her and squeezed her hand. "I'll do my best, sweet," he said close to her ear. He opened the door and went out. 

Ana began to look at the wine rack. She was soon overwhelmed. There were wines there from all over the world. Europe, Australia, North and South America, Asia. The vintages were mostly ten to twenty years old, Ana guessed that those years reflected Jack's traveling years. She picked up the wines, one after another, looking at the labels. She went slowly, deliberately, knowing that Miles might be a while with Jack. 

Miles walked back down the hall toward Jack's room. "She's occupied," he said. "And, I do need to talk to you. Jack was sitting up, out from under the covers of the bed. He stood up, tentatively, and made his way over to a corner chair. 

"Me first." he said. "Miles, I'm not feeling well at all. I don't think I have all that long."

"Don't be ridiculous, Jack. You're perfectly healthy. I'm sure of it."

Jack leaned back in the chair. "Miles, Miles. My friend. Do you know what its like when you're surprised to see one of your friends has died? You see their name on the obit page and you're surprised that they're dead"

"Yeah, I guess that has happened. In fact, a time or two."

"Well, son, just you wait. If you're lucky enough to get really old, the surprise is that anyone was still alive at all. I mean, you see that they've died, and you're surprised that they were still alive up until yesterday. But it happens less and less often. Do you get my drift, Miles? All of my friends are dead. And, I'm tired." Jack leaned back in the chair and signed.

"Miles, I've been worried about you since you came to the winery. Your father was a dear friend, closer than I think you knew. He practically saved my life." Jack nodded, momentarily lost in thought. "He was a great man, your father."

"I know that. I'm only sorry that I didn't tell him more when he was alive. I spent too much time trying to be different than my parents, and I didn't appreciate enough what they were."

"For what its worth, Miles, I'm sure he knows that. And, I'm sure that he knows somehow that you found your passion." Jack looked straight at Miles. You would agree that you've found your passion in winemaking, wouldn't you?"

"You know how I feel about winemaking, Jack. It makes me really feel alive. And I will always be grateful to you for showing me this."

"Wine ain't all there is to life, Miles. And, you're not getting any younger."

"Jack – why do you think I wanted you to meet Ana? You wanted me to find someone. And, I have."

Jack nodded. "She could be the one, but it's too early. Way to soon to be talking about 'love'. But what a surprise – the lawyer's ex wife. He won't be happy, and you know he works with Todd. And whether she admits it to you or not, Greg Romano is a very successful person – he's handsome, articulate, and has everything going for him. And Ana's lost her job. You may have problems maintaining her standard of living. Anyway, I do believe that she is serious about you, though someone else will certainly say that you are her rebound person. Don't allow her to use you as an escape from Greg, as a tool to get even for his infidelities. There are so many women out there, and you don't need to be drawn into their problems."

Miles raised his eyebrows. "What did you do, give her the third degree when I left the room?"

Jack gave a little laugh. "Let's say I took the role of your absent father with this young lady. Anyway, she passed the first test, but I am withholding final judgment. We'll see what tomorrow brings."

"Glad to hear you approve, Jack."

"But let's get to what I wanted to speak to you about I want you to do something for me."

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing."

Jack's eyes were shining. "I think I know what you want. Maybe we can make a bargain."

"I'll consider it," said Miles, with a sly smile.

"I want you to take care of your situation. Open the drawer there." Miles opened the top drawer of Jack's nightstand beside the bed. "You'll see a business card there – Akers and Akers." Miles nodded and picked it up. 

"Specializing in family practice," Miles read. He looked over at Jack. "I planned to do this, anyway," he said.

"It should be easy. I've taken care of as much as I can. They're expecting to hear from you."

"What do you mean?"

"Miles, I'm not kidding when I say I'm tired. I'm trying to get my things in order, so to speak. And, believe me, it does my heart good to know that you finally have the incentive to do something. But, I planned this anyway. They already have a file on you, and a retainer. Since there was no marital property and no children, it will be easy. The only delay is not knowing where she is, and there is a work around for that. Should be over in a few months." He paused. "Over, once and for all."

"Jack, I don't have any problem with that. I'll call them next week."

"I want you to call them tomorrow. And, I'm not finished. I want you to do something else. "

Miles suspected he knew what the something else was. "Jack, I don't think that's really necessary."




In the Vineyard Ch. 09



"Give an old man credit for his instincts. Remember, I've been watching you close, for, what is it, eight years now. Respect me, or at least indulge me."

"I know what you want. You want me to find her."

"You don't need to find her to divorce her. In fact, I'm sure that you don't want to tell the authorities where she is."

Miles nodded. "You're right, there. I don't want to be involved, I don't want to hear about what else she's done, and I don't need Mom exposed to anymore."

"I agree with that, and some of your reasons. Especially concerning your mother." Jack had a sudden thought. "When was the last time you called her, by the way?"

Miles signed. "I know, I've been bad about that. But, I'm really busy right now. I'll call her. I'll call her later today."

"One thing I can't stand, its neglectful kids."
"Jack, don't get on your high horse. I can't keep Ana waiting forever."

"Well, let me get to what I'm saying. And, pour me some of that white wine. I thought I was supposed to be offering my expert opinion on the wines."

"I live only to obey," joked Miles, pouring a splash of he white for each of them.

"Here's the deal, as some say," Jack continued. "I don't think I have much time left. I want you to take care of things."

"I already said I would. I'll call those lawyers tomorrow, if you insist, and, get the divorce in motion."

"You know what else I want."

"Jack, I'm not going to go see her. What would be the point? Besides, the phone number I have for her daughter is years old."

"Not a problem," said Jack. "I don't sit here idle, you know." Open that same drawer and pull out a manila folder." Miles did so.

"Look inside."

Miles leafed through the documents inside the folder. "What is this? You hired a detective?" He looked up. "Jack, you must be bored. And, have money to burn."

"Miles, I want to set things right. As right as I can, anyway."

"Don't forget, I get some trade out of this. What does your detective say?"

"He found the daughter. Her number, her address, are there. Interestingly enough, she doesn't live that far from the winery. Based on his investigation, my man thinks that the mother is in Europe, specifically somewhere in Italy. But, I assume you can find that out for yourself. Go see what's her name, Tessa, and find out where her mother is. I'll pay for you to go there. You don't have to stay. Just go see her, tell her you're getting a divorce, and see what happens."

"Jack, I don't see the point, especially now that I've met someone else."

"Exactly the point. Miles, we need to face our fears, in order to overcome them."

"Speaking of, I want to talk to you about your son."

"I'm ahead of you there. I knew that would be the card you'd play."

"Ahead of me how?"

"I've invited them over later. Brandon and his friend."

"You've had them around before."

"Yes, but they knew I didn't approve of them, so they couldn't be themselves. This time, I intend to listen, and not just talk. And, Miles, I'll consider it. I mean, putting Brandon in charge. That is, if your friend will agree to help."

"Jimmy is Brandon's friend, too. More than a friend."

"I know that. If they think of themselves as a couple, well, it's better than being alone, as I see it. In fact, it was thinking about you that made me start to appreciate the fact that they just might be happy, as hard as it is for me to accept. Like someone else I know, Brandon seems to be finding a place for himself at that winery. I used to think he'd go back to college. But, I am beginning to think that he enjoys himself. All I really want is for him to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted for him, you know."

Miles had a quizzical look on his face. "Jack, I do believe that you think you're dying." He stared at the older man. "And, I sure hope you're wrong. Don't know what I'd do without you."

"I'm trying to take care of it so you'll be fine. Now, will you do it? Lets say it's my dying wish."

Miles sighed. "I can't say no." In a different voice, Miles said, " But, I really don't want to go on some wild goose chase to Italy, just to see the woman who stole from me, ruined my business, and abandoned me." 

"You see, Miles. I hear the anger. You need to see her to get over this. If you don't get over it, and trust me on this, you won't be able to give yourself completely to someone else. And that pretty lady down the hall deserves all you can give."

"I'll call the attorneys. And, I'll call Tessa, next week."

"Tomorrow, Miles. Then, call me and let me know. And, I'll tell you how it went with Brandon. I know you think I'm kidding, but I can sense it. I don't have that much time left. I want to be able to rest in peace." He finished the wine. "This is good, by the way. Before I forget, I want to tell you that you've become a terrific winemaker. The place is a financial success, but I think that is more due to hard work and good ideas. You also make wines to be proud of. Different style than I started with, but I know that the public's tastes are changing. Not everyone wants sweet wines anymore." 

"The sweets are still our best sellers."

"Yes, but, if I read the figures correctly, not at the winery. The sweet wines are selling at the same stores that have stocked them since I beat on their doors many years ago."

"You're right, Jack. Sales of dry, especially dry red wines, have really picked up at the winery. People want the dry reds with the steak dinners."

"Just the same, I'm proud of what you've done. And, I know that you'll go do it again, somewhere else. And, I'm sure your own winery will be a success. Please, just be around to help whomever is running my winery."

"Depends," said Miles.

"Todd may be too proud to ask for it, but he'll accept your help, if you offer. I know you don't like him. And, you have some reasons for that – he had no business prying into your personal life like he did – but, on the other hand, give him some credit for watching out for his old man. "

"Interesting how he got worried after the place started to…"

Jack interrupted. "We don't need to go there, as they say. We've been through this all before. Miles, I love both of my sons, and I love you like a son. I wish everybody could get along. But, even I have my limits of interfering." Jack was laughing, and Miles joined in. 

"Go get your young lady. Say good by, and take her to lunch somewhere. But leave this wine here. I may nibble away at it."

"Will do. I'll be right back."
"Miles?"

Miles stopped before opening the door. "What?"

"Is she the girl that I almost ran into a couple of weeks ago?"
Miles had to stop and think. The golf cart. The first day he saw Ana. "Yes."

"Funny. When I saw her pulling up, first thought I had was, now there's a woman for my friend Miles. Not a kid, like those winery girls, but a real, honest to goodness attractive grown up female woman. Was I right?"

Miles got a big smile on his face. "In every way imaginable. Plus, she's a great worker. And, she's an inspiration to some of the pickers."

"I can see that she'd be inspiring. Good in bed, is she?"

"Jack, you never stop being a dirty old man."

"At my age, it's all I have. I have to live through other people's love lives."

"You better behave yourself when I bring her back. And, please don't mention this stuff about Em, or a divorce. Let me tell Ana in my own time."

"Agreed. That is your business to handle. Just make sure you handle it. I'm counting on you!"

Miles went out the door, through the kitchen to the study. Ana was seating in a comfortable leather arm chair reading a book. She looked up as Miles came in.

"How'd it go?" she asked.

"Good," was all Miles said. 

"I'm glad," Ana said. She thought he was strangely quiet. "I found this great book 'Adventures along the Wine Route'. It's written by a San Francisco wine importer who travels throughout France. I just started it, but it's really comfortable to read. And informative."

Miles glanced down at the book. "That is a good book. By Kermit Lynch. Bring it along, I'll tell Jack you're borrowing it. I had a copy, but I loaned it to Jimmy and he hasn't given it back."

Ana stood up. The three wine glasses were empty.

"Enjoy the wine?"

"Looks like," she said. She realized as she stood up that she felt a little bit lightheaded. "I guess I got a little buzz."

"We'll go eat after we say our farewell to Jack."

Ana saw something a little unfamiliar in Miles, like something was bothering him. "Miles," she said. "Are you OK?" Her voice seemed to pull him into the present. 

"I'm sorry, sweet. I'm just thinking about things." He stepped close to her and put his arms around her, kissing her on the lips. Ana responded, leaning her body close to his.

"I love you so much," he murmured. "I want to be the best for you I can."

She didn't say anything, but put her arms around him. He hugged her back, pulling her tightly to him. "Promise you'll tell me if I ever make you unhappy."

Ana was feeling uncomfortable by this sudden seriousness from Miles. She tried to lighten his mood.

"So, what about lunch?" she said. "And, we should wash up these wine glasses."

Miles nodded. "You're right." He still looked thoughtful as he picked the glasses up. "Ana," Miles said as they walked back into the kitchen. 

"What is it?" Ana asked, then not waiting for his response, "Where's the dish soap?"

"Under the sink," Miles said. "I may have to take a short trip one of these days. I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not. Business?"
"Not exactly." Miles thought for a minute. "Yes, sort of about business."

"I'm not working, you know," Ana said. "If you want me to come along. Where are you going?" She filled up one side of the sink with water, then put the glasses in to soak. "What about Jack's room? More glasses there?"

Miles didn't immediately answer, but he walked back toward Jack's room, motioning Ana to follow. As they went in, they saw that Jack turned the television back on and was drinking a large glass of wine. Miles picked up the other glasses left in the room, leaving one for Jack. 

"Jack, we'll be taking off now. I'll leave the red bottles out, but I'll put the white in the 'frig."

"Call me, tomorrow," Jack said to Miles. "Call me with news."

"I'll call you."

"Don't call me until you make some other calls."

"Yes, boss," said Miles, sounding weary. He started to walk out of the room. Ana gave a little wave, then followed.

"Remember, Miles," Jack called after them. "We have a bargain – I'll keep up my side."

"OK, Jack," said Miles. "Get yourself feeling better. We'll finish picking this week, I'd like it if you came out."

Miles put the white wine in the refrigerator and the other glasses in the soak water. He started cleaning off the glasses that had been soaking. He washed each very carefully, looking up in the light. He towel dried each and put them back in a cupboard.

"Miles," Ana began, hesitantly. "I know it might be none of my business, but what's this talk about a bargain?"

Miles turned back and looked at her. "Ana, don't get me wrong. It's not that it's none of your business. But, I don't want to talk about it at this point in time."

"Well, then tell me about your trip."

"I can't talk about that right now, either. Anyway, I might not go anywhere. Just some idea Jack has." Ana felt slighted, but she tried not to show it. But, Miles could see a change in her expression. "Ana, I'm sorry. I don't mean to take this out on you. I'm just a little worried. Jack keeps talking like he doesn't expect to be around very much longer. And, he's putting some pressure on me to do some things."

"Things to do with your past?"

"Yes. But let's leave it at that. On the plus side, he's agreed to spend some time with Brandon and Jimmy, talking about the possibility of them running the winery." Miles dried and put away the last glass. "Come on, I'm starving."

Ana realized that she was hungry too – the tastes of wine had all been on an empty stomach.

They went out to the parking lot out front. Looking back, Ana saw Jack looking through curtains and waving at them. She waved back. Miles saw her and looked back, then stuck his tongue out at Jack. Jack smiled, and extended a finger. Miles laughed, and Ana could see that Jack was laughing as well.

"Same old SOB," said Miles. "Hey, little Ana."

Ana felt herself blush. "Where did that come from?"

"A lot of conversations with your non uncle Chester. Would you prefer Jimmy's version – Ana banana?"

"You know, I've never really been a nickname person. Most everyone just calls me Ana. How about you?"

"Not really. What I was going to say was, we're only going about three miles. Too hard to walk, the road gets too fast. But, if you're feeling the wine, I'll take the helm for just this leg."

"That'd be a good idea. I assume you're licensed and insured."

"Absolutely." She unlocked the door with the key, then handed it to him. "You'll have to show me how to use this gadget," he said. "Truck is very basic."

Ana hit a button and the end of the key popped out. "Now, it's just like anything else. Start and drive."

Miles turned the key, then fastened his seat belt. He looked at her and took her hand, squeezing it. "If you're feeling the relaxation from alcohol, maybe I should take advantage of you."

"What, and risk the authorities?" Ana asked, in mock horror. Miles was pleased to see that her good mood was still intact.

"You're right. Plenty of time for that later." He backed out.

"So, Miles, no nicknames, ever?"

"You forget, I didn't use my own name for most of my life. I was Davis, not Miles."

"And, no one called you something like Dave, or Davie?"

She saw Miles face tighten and he gripped the steering wheel. "Uh, not really, " he stammered. 

Miles could still hear her voice, Em's voice, Em saying Davie this, Davie that. That voice continued to haunt him as it had for years. She had been the only person ever to call him 'Davie', and sometimes, during lovemaking 'Davie Cockit". And Em was his nickname for her, her real name was Mary. Maybe Jack is right, Miles was thinking. Maybe I do need to see her to finally get away from this. But Miles wasn't convinced that he had ever stopped loving Em. Nor did he know how to handle Ana. Should he tell her? He certainly couldn't take her. Besides, this was Miles' problem to handle – taking Ana would be avoiding the real purpose – to deal with the mixed emotions Em continued to evoke in him.

Miles drove out of town opposite the way they had come in. Ana noticed that he drove very slowly and cautiously. Within a few seconds, the rows of brick buildings were replaced by newer buildings, carry out, gas stations, a few offices, but spaced further and further apart. The businesses continued to thin, and, just a few miles out of town Miles pulled up to an old white-painted cinder block building. Ana saw a sign by the road reading "John Conner Diner." Miles turned to her.

"I know it doesn't look like much. But the food is cheap, and good. And not too greasy. No wine, only beer. But they have a fair selection of imports and microbrews."
"Sounds just fine," said Ana.

They got out of the car. Miles looked down at the key. He pushed a button and the horn sounded. "Did I lock it?" He asked Ana.

"Yes. See, it's not that hard."

"No, I guess not. But I was hoping that you'd drive again after we eat. I mean, to the store, then I'll take over for the drive home."

Ana nodded. "Fair enough."



In the Vineyard Ch. 10



Miles held the door of the diner open for Ana as she walked into the dimly lit restaurant. The diner had an old-fashioned look, as if the furnishings had been there for years and years. The walls were lined with booths, each booth featuring the listings for a jukebox sitting in the corner. Poor, modern country music was playing. There was also a bar with seating, and a few free standing tables. Half dozen or so men sat at the bar, smoking and drinking draft beers. Behind the counter was shelving, covered with bottles of spirits and a row of beer bottles. Next to the bottles sat an old color television, tuned to a football game. Every so often, the men would make a noise after a particularly exciting play.

Miles said "Hey" as they entered and led Ana to a booth. A couple of the men looked up and made sounds of acknowledgment. Miles handed Ana one of the menus on the table, then got up and went toward the bar. She saw him looking at the television, and asking one of the men something. They were gesturing toward the ball game. The other man got up from his seat and went behind the bar. He spent a minute doing something, then went back around to his seat. Miles returned to their table carrying two draft beers. "Lager or stout?" He was holding one glass of light colored liquid, the other dark.

"I'll take the lighter one, if you don't mind."

"No, I like stout. But, you should try a taste of this. It's a brewery from up on the lake. The lager is theirs, too. They've won a lot of awards."

"I don't know that much about beer."

"I get what I know from Jimmy. He was a beer maker way before he started hanging around the winery. He makes good beer, too. "

A waitress appeared, wearing cut off shorts, tennis shoes and a tee shirt with a pinned name tag reading 'Donna'. "You know what you want?" she asked.

Miles looked up and at Ana. "Do you need a minute?"

"No, if you go first." She eyed the short menu. It was standard diner fare, burgers, sandwiches, and entrees like meatloaf, chicken and dumplings.

"What you want, honey?" the waitress addressed Miles. She was slim, late 20s, with a mass of long curly hair tied back in a thick ponytail.

"Cheeseburger, fries. And a glass of water."

"The usual," she said writing on a pad. "Now you can't tell me you eat like this all the time and don't get fat." Ana guessed that Miles had carried on a flirtation with Donna during prior visits. Miles patted his stomach. "You're right there. I only do this as a special treat." Donna looked at Ana. "Listen to him," she said. "I keep trying to get him to eat some of the good food here - our meatloaf is excellent. And, we have a grilled chicken breast, or a broiled cod. But, no, it's always cheeseburger and fries."

"At least I'm consistent, "Miles said to her, smiling. 

"I wouldn't say that," Donna replied. "This is the first time you brought a date. I was beginning to worry about you. I'm Donna, by the way," she extended her hand to Ana. "Miles has been coming here about every other Sunday for, what is it, a few years now."

Miles nodded. "And, it's always a pleasant experience."

"Well," Donna said, "Sunday is our slow day. You should see it here on a Friday or Saturday night. Dozens of families with kids. It's a real madhouse. And, during the week nights, it's ball teams. Softball, baseball, soccer. Nope, you picked a good day to be a regular." The door opened and Donna turned. "Now, look at that. I spoke too soon." A group of six people came in - two children, a young woman carrying a baby, a young man, and a slightly older couple. "Well, sweetie, looks like I'm getting busy. " Donna was talking to Ana. "Know what you want?"

"Yes, I'll try the broiled cod. And a green salad, house dressing."

"Coming right up. You ok with the beer?"

"I'll be ready in a minute," said Miles. He was working his way through the stout. He looked over at Ana's beer. She had just started to drink it. 

"I guess just bring another stout and water - Ana, do you want water?" She nodded." One stout, two waters, coming right up." Donna said. As she walked away, Ana said, "She's nice."

"Yeah. She's terrific. She's the owner's daughter, and she really runs the place. I have been here when it was crowded, and you should see her hustle. She has all of the regulars down - knows when to bring drinks and when to ask. And, she's a flirt with all of the guys, but manages to be nice to the ladies at the same time."

Donna came back with the beer and water, then headed to the group of six. Other than the men at the bar, they were the only customers besides Miles and Ana. They had chosen a table and placed a high chair at one end. Ana saw Miles watching the baby. She looked over at the group as well.

"Cute baby," she said.

"Mmhm. Looks really young." Miles finished the rest of the first beer. Ana took a sip from hers and looked back at the baby. To her surprise, the young mother seemed to be staring at them. Ana looked to see if Miles noticed this, but he was flipping through the jukebox selections. Ana looked back, and the group were all engaged in conversations over their menus. I must have imagined that she was staring at us, Ana thought.

"Miles, do you know where the lady's room is?"

"Sure. " He pointed back near the entrance. Ana saw a hallway she hadn't noticed earlier with a sign stating 'restrooms'.

"I'll be right back," she said, going down the hallway. Miles watched Ana, and as he turned his eyes away, he noticed the young mother at the other table watching Ana. Without saying anything to the rest of the group, the young mother rose up and walked over to Miles.

"I know you," she said, "I know you well." She was wearing a cotton print dress, which accentuated her thin figure. Her limbs were long and her straight honey brown hair was parted in the middle. Miles looked at her. Within seconds, he knew who she was.

"Tessa," Miles fumbled, turning red, remembering the times when he had enjoyed her youthful beauty while her mother was away or slept in the other room. She'd shower for him and with him naked, and she'd sunbathe in the nude with him. Yes, he remembered her. How could he forget? "You've changed a lot. You look much more like your mother."

"That's right, Davie. I thought it was you, as soon as I saw you. But I wasn't sure, what with that disguise. You look different now - your hair. And, you're thinner. But, your eyes are the same."

Miles was stunned. He tried to be casual. "So, how are you? I see you have a baby."

"Yeah. How observant of you. Then you never were the sharpest knife in the drawer. The baby wasn't exactly planned. But Jason," she pointed at the young man, "he has been great. Those other folks are Jason's sister and her husband. We live with them. We had to move out of our apartment because I couldn't work during most of the pregnancy. I wanted to keep my baby and try to be a family. And Jason agreed. We got married as soon as I realized that I was pregnant. Not like the way my mom was." Miles saw a trace of a tear in Tessa's eye. "My mom still talks about you. She's always asking me to look for her husband, for Davie, and to let him know that the arrangements are ready, whatever that means."

Miles saw Ana working her way back. "Look, Tessa, I can't explain you to my friend. Not easily, anyway." He pulled a card from his wallet. "This is where I am. And, I'm not Davie anymore. I'm Miles, Miles Davis DeLong. Call me. I need to know exactly where your mother is. Can you call me tomorrow? Call the second number, that's my cell." 

Tessa looked down and nodded. "I will. You can make me, and my mom, happy. And, I understand about your friend. I didn't feel right telling Jason and his sister who you were, either. I mean, it's sort of a complicated story to tell, but what we did Davie, I was willing and able. It was great. You were a great teacher. And it sure beat losing my virginity to some high school kid in the back seat of a Chevy. Mom knows that we were lovers, she's ok with it, she knew all along. My husband doesn't know, can't know, but I'll call you." Tessa walked away just as Ana came back to her seat. She didn't look back.

Ana looked at Miles. "I saw her staring at us. Do you know her?"

"Yes."

"Well?"

"An old..... friend."

"She doesn't look that old."

Miles was silent. Ana felt he was being evasive. "Look, Miles. I don't want to pry into everything, but you can't expect me just to ignore all of these mysterious things. Like your secret talk with Jack. And, your possible trip to God knows where. And, now some mystery woman appears, with a baby, talks to you and you won't tell me who it is. It's just that this is so far away from the Miles who wants us to be together. Shouldn't we have some trust? I haven't hidden anything from you, have I?"

"How could I possibly know what you would choose to hide?" Miles replied. "I have known you a week. What sort of gal invites a guy over to her place and has sex with him? Jesus Christ, we are still looking forward to our first date."

Miles hid his face in his hands. He didn't mean to snap at Ana, but he did snap. "You're right," he said, "I don't want to spend our time talking about my problems, problems that I need to work through, and that have nothing to do with you." Ana could tell that he was upset, really upset, and she tried to help bury his frustration.

Donna arrived with the food. Ana was pleased to see that the cod looked fresh and had an appealing smell. 

"Need ketchup?" Donna asked Miles. 

"Of course," he answered. She took a bottle off another table and handed it to him. 

"More beer?" she asked Ana.

"Bring another round," Miles said before Ana could answer. Donna nodded and walked away.

"I can see that we need to talk." Miles said. "Or maybe, I need to do the talking. First of all, you're absolutely right. I haven't been fair." Miles picked up the cheeseburger and took a bite. Ana started to take a fork full of the fish.

"So, who was that?"

"No, first things first. What happened at Jack's. Then I'll get to her. But, what a coincidence." Miles poured ketchup on the plate. "Want any fries?"

"No thanks, I'm fine."

Miles grinned. "I really don't usually eat like this. Just when I come here."

"I believe you," Ana said.

"Good." He looked at her, serious now. "I don't want to give you any reason to doubt me." Miles took a drink of beer. He looked over toward the table of six. They were taking no notice of Miles and Ana. Miles spoke softly, just the same. "Jack asked me to do two things for him. One, call some attorneys about a divorce from Mary...or...uh...Em. He's already contacted someone, so all I need to do is call and find out what they need. No big deal, right? Something I should have done eight years ago."

"Whose Mary? Is that Em's real name? That's not so bad, getting divorced I mean. I don't know why it has to be a secret."

"There was a second thing. Jack wants me to go visit Em."

"Visit Em? Do you know where she is?"

"Well...I don't...well, Jack says she's in Italy. Somewhere east of Verona, where they have the VinItalia wine fair each spring. Jack has...found a place for her to stay."

"And her daughter? " Ana looked over at the young woman.

Miles nodded. "Ana, believe me, that was about the most unexpected thing that's ever happened to me. You see, Jack found her - found Tessa with a private detective. He gave me a number and told me to call her. His detective reported that she ended up in Mount Union, but he didn't say anything about her being married, or having a kid."

"So, this was just coincidence?"

"Really weird, isn't is? I can't believe she recognized me. I might have eventually worked out who she was, but I doubt it. Not until she came up here and I really looked at her. Then I could see the resemblance to Em." Miles was lying to Ana, and he wondered if Ana bought any part of his 'really weird' bs.

"So, what does this mean? Did you find Em?"

"What does 'find' mean? She was never that lost. I am the one who has changed my name, my occupation, my lifestyle, and I am the one who has been hard to find."

"I asked Tessa to call me." Miles took another sip of beer. "Ana, the last thing I want to do is to see Em. I still get so mad sometimes that I could just punch a wall, or something. And, who knows what I'm likely to do if I do see her. 

"Miles, I'm sure you can control your temper. At least, I hope you can. You might get in trouble if you hurt something. Or someone."

"The point of this is that Jack is insistent that I see her, and apparently he has his reasons. He says that I'll never get over her, and being angry, if I don't. A sort of cleansing, if you know what I mean. He thinks that seeing her, talking to her, will get her out of my system."

"I understand that. I mean, I broke up with Greg in person. I would never have done it in writing, or over the phone. Besides, don't you need to see her to divorce her?"

"Not really. According to Jack, since her location is officially unknown, I don't. But, in a way, I would like to tell her, face to face. I mean, the way she ran out on me was cowardly - whether she was breaking the law or not, she should have had the guts to tell me she was leaving. Then, it would have been over, once and for all." Miles had stopped paying attention to the food and beer, and he continued lying to Ana. "You can't imagine what it felt like, especially those first few days, hoping, praying, that there was some mistake and that she'd be back. And, when it finally dawned on me, knowing that she never cared about me, that the whole thing was a set up." Miles stopped, out of breath. He paused, then took a deep, deliberate inhale. "I would like to tell her in person that I'm divorcing her. In that regard at least, I want to be better to her than she was to me. I want to tell her myself, and explain myself. And, I want to let her know that she didn't ruin my life, that I am better now than I was!" Miles became still, and Ana could see that he was deep in thought.

"Miles - maybe Jack is right. Maybe you need to see her to work through this. I mean, I haven't known you that long, but I think I know something about you. And, in a way, you've been running from this for all these years. Changing your name, changing the way you looked, moving to a different town, learning a new type of business. It is as if you are still denying your past. And, like it or not, that past it a part of what you are. "

"Not really. Not who I am today."

"Maybe not, in some ways, but in other ways yes. You have to think about how much you love what you do now - winemaking, and your plans to open your own winery. Would that have happened if there hadn't been Em? Or, if Em hadn't been the way she was. You know, Miles, I remember the first time I met you and we were talking about me losing my job. And you said something about how things always work out, and work out for the better. All grapes into the press, you said, instead of water under the bridge. Because with grapes..." Ana stopped and looked at Miles. She reached across the table and took his hand. He looked up at her. "...I know, the grapes are gone, but you end up with something even better, the wine."

"Ana, good wine cannot be made from bad grapes."

"Just think," Ana went on, ignoring Miles and rambling like a schoolgirl with a crush, "if I hadn't lost my job, there would have been no time for grape picking and no Miles in my life."

"I should send your old company a 'thank you' card." Ana was pleased to hear Miles speak with some humor in his voice.

"Miles, I won't tell you what to do or not to do. But, if you think you need to see Em, to give yourself a sense of closure, then I think you should. Either way, I'm here for you." Ana was surprised at how intense her feelings were. She felt anger toward Em, anger at what she'd done to Miles. Maybe this is love, she thought. Not wanting someone else to ever feel hurt. 

"OK, no more talk about this. Not right now. This is my day off, remember," said Miles. He continued with the burger and fries. Ana finished most of the fish, then ate the salad. 

"Fry?" Miles asked again, holding one toward Ana on a fork. 

"Why not?" she said. He guided the fork toward her mouth and she took a bite out of the fry. "Not bad. Actually nice and crisp, and not too greasy." Miles handed her the fork with the other half of French fry.

"I think we've already been exposed to each other's germs." He pushed his plate to the middle of the table. "Help yourself," he said, taking another fry with his fingers. "There are plenty."

Donna checked by and asked if more beer was wanted. Miles said no, then asked Ana. "I'm fine," she said. She was only about halfway through the second.

"We're ready for the bill," Miles said to Donna.

"Just want to make sure I earn my tips," she replied. 

Ana took another drink of the beer. Donna brought the bill. Miles picked it up, scanned it, removed a couple of bills from his wallet and left them under the table's salt and pepper shakers. 

"I'll be right back," he said, getting up and walking to the restrooms. Ana noticed that Miles went around the edge of the room, avoiding the other table. She wondered what their exchange had been like - and how it felt to be confronted with his wife's grown up daughter. A step daughter, Ana was thinking, that he never knew he had. And, now her with a daughter. Ana found herself imagining Em. She must be beautiful, Ana though. But so cold, to leave behind her daughter and do what she had done to Miles.

Miles came back out of the bathroom. Ana took one last drink of the beer and headed toward the door. She couldn't stop herself from looking over at the young woman, at Tessa. For a second, their eyes met. If the daughter is anything like her mother, Ana thought, she must be quite beautiful. She tried to read Tessa's expression. Curiosity, and a little of something that wasn't entirely friendly. Ana turned her head back toward Miles. He was holding the door open for her.

"See you, Donna." The waitress was carrying out dishes of ice cream to Tessa's table. "Bye, Miles," she said. "Nice to meet your friend. Bring her back again."

"Will do." Miles said. Ana took a last look. The men at the counter were still there, drinking beer, watching football on the television. The country music still played in the background. 

After they left, Tessa stood up. She crossed to a pay phone, inserted a coin, then dialed a number.

A man answered the phone.

"Mr. Formby? I found him. We came here right after you called."

She listened for a second. "No, I would never have known him if you hadn't shown me a picture. He looks totally different now, like he's disguised. But there are things about him, things you don't know, things only I know. He gave me his number and told me to call him tomorrow. I'll get the information together and call him."

She listened again. "I let him think it was just by accident. Yes, we'll stop by after we eat. I can't tell you how much I appreciate the money. Oh, and Mr. Formby? When should I tell my mother he'll be coming?"

"Next week? I'll let her know, but Italy is far away. Does Davie even have a passport?"

"Yes, under his real name, from his days as an investment advisor. It has a couple of years left on it. He can be out of the country quickly, quite quickly. I've booked his flight on Delta / Air France, Cincinnati to Paris, Paris to Venice, business class. Someone will need to meet him at the Venice airport on Tuesday at around noon Italian time."

Jack Formby hung up the phone. He trusted Miles, even now, but even good men sometimes needed a push. He knew that Miles would go to the diner - he always did. It was easy enough to contact the girl himself and arrange for her to be there. She jumped at the chance when he offered not only to pay for the family's meal, but to give her a few hundred in cash. "For the baby," he said, and she agreed. Looks like things were moving right along. He felt a dull pain inside. None too soon, either. There wasn't much time left.




In the Vineyard Ch. 10



Ana was surprised at how bright the outside world was. She reached for sunglasses. The air felt a little chilly to her and she shivered.

"Are you OK?" Miles asked. 

"Its just the beer," she said. "It was cold, and I gulped it down."

"Ok to drive?"

"Sure. I had plenty to eat. Where to?"

"I'd thought we would go shopping. I know that it's hard to think about it right now, but we talked about making dinner. Besides, it's probably better to go shopping on a full stomach than an empty one."

"You said there was a nice store here."

"That's right, we have to go to the interchange side of town. That's where they built this nice new grocery."

"Just tell me how to get there," Ana said, unlocking the car. Miles got in the passenger side.

"Go back through town, the way we came. A few blocks after Jack's turn, there is a big intersection. You'll make a right, and we follow that road several miles. It starts as Park Street, but turns into Union Road." Ana followed the directions, and found the road changed from a quiet, tree lined street, similar to the road Jack lived on, to a four lane divided road, full of businesses, service roads and traffic. She sat at one in a series of red lights.

"How far?"

"Next left. You can't miss it. Where a bunch of people are going."

She saw the store almost immediately. 'Mount Union Independent Grocery', the sign read. It was as large as many of the groceries in the capital city. The parking lot was enormous. 

"It really is a nice store," Miles said. "Almost worth the drive. I mean, if you like food. I know that Jimmy always makes a stop here if he comes by Jack's with Brandon. Jimmy likes to cook," Miles explained.

Ana found a fairly close parking space. As she pulled in, her cell phone rang. Instinctively, she answered it.

"Hello."

"Ana." It was Greg. 

"What do you want?" she said, in a less than friendly voice.

"Ana, I called your parents. I was worried. I thought you'd go up there."

"I didn't. Look, this isn't a good time, Greg." Ana intentionally used his name. She wanted to get rid of him, quickly, but she wanted Miles to know who it was. She looked over. Miles was watching her. He opened the door, then got out of the car. 

"Look for me in produce," he whispered. "I'll get a cart." Ana nodded. Miles closed the door and walked off.

"Ana. I know you didn't come back to the condo last night."

"What were you doing, spying on me?"

"Not really. I just wanted to talk again, after the other night. I called you at home, later I drove by. I drove by again this morning. Ana, I called your parents, and your mother said you went to the winery last night. " Greg sounded more serious. "What's going on, Ana?"

"Greg, its none of your business. We're divorced. I am moving forward with my life. It's as simple as that. You didn't tell my parent that I didn't come home, did you?"

"No. But I thought about it. You don't know what you're getting into."

"Greg, what you are doing right now is intruding. I won't talk to you anymore." She started to hang up the cell phone.

"Ana, please" Greg's voice was louder. "I need to say something."

She stopped before clicking the hang up button. "What is it?" she said, coldly.

"Look, about the other night. I realize I was pushing you to move too fast. And, if you want to take a break, by all means, let's do so."

Ana dug in, as hurtful as she could be. "Its past that, Greg. I don't want to see you anymore. I mean, I like you and all, and I probably always will, but I've never loved you. Maybe like a brother. But not like I love...", Ana hesitated, then meanly drove her words at Greg, "not like the love I'm feeling now."

"Ana, tell me. Are you with him? Are you sleeping with him?"

"What are you asking me?"

"Miles. He has a way of using women. Is that whom you spent the night with?" Greg sounded angry.

"Greg, I'm not going to talk to you anymore."

"Ana, listen. You don't really know him."

She interrupted. "But, I do. And I do know all about his so called secret past. And, it doesn't matter."

"I'm sure he's told you his side of the story. But it's his secret present that you should worry about. Ana, I didn't buy that condo, or your car, for you to share it with another man. I am still the legal owner, what you have is known as permissive use. Our divorce agreement reads that you can't cohabitate there - in my condo - with another man. I don't want to see you hurt by this character when your rebound bubble breaks. He's still married, you know."

"Greg, I told you. I know about that. His wife has been gone for years."

"That's crap. He's looking to buy a small winery in Italy, we've tapped his emails and other communications. And where do you think he's getting the money? But I don't expect you to believe me. Here's something you may not know. Todd has proof Miles is stealing from the winery. We're afraid that he'll try to take off with the profits he's skimmed, and then join his wife Mary in Italy."

"Greg, that's absurd. Miles is trying to divorce her, anyway. He doesn't want to be with her."

"That's news to me. Anyway, characters like that, they'll say anything. Especially to a beautiful, but vulnerable, woman. Tell me, have you noticed anything suspicious in his behavior?"

"Nothing whatsoever. He does exactly what he says." 

But Ana was thinking about the meeting with Tessa. That was almost too coincidental to believe. Nonsense, she thought to herself, Jack Formby wouldn't have this much trust in Miles without good reason. But how much trust did Jack really have? Why is Jack insisting on the meeting with Em? How much could Miles possibly make at the winery? Certainly not enough to save, and not enough to buy his own winery. He didn't even have a real vehicle, or a real place to live. And, why would Miles work so hard to build someone else's business, if he was a thief? It didn't add up to Ana. She paused, then responded to Greg.

"I've heard about the missing cases of wine. Doesn't everyone realize that the last thing Miles needs is wine? 

"It's not only the missing cases of wine, that's small change. The missing wine is the best way of tracing the number of steak dinners. Liquor control requires an accounting for every bottle of wine, but doesn't give a damn about steaks. For every missing case of wine, there are missing cash receipts for twelve double steak dinners. At thirty - five dollars a pop, it adds up. It's an old scam, the one where the cash sales are pocketed, while the credit card sales show. The winery's records have whole evenings, with hundreds of dinners, that show no cash sales."

" Greg, I don't believe you. Let's face it. You're not going to be happy about me seeing anyone else right now, no matter whom. Just, please leave my parents out of this. I need to tell them in my own time."

"Ana, this is not about you and I." Greg sounded tired. "I just don't want to see you hurt. Or worse, used."

"That's one of our problems, Greg. You just can't seem to let me be my own person, make my own decisions, even my own mistakes as the case might be. You never wanted to let me be an adult. Well, surprise, I'm going to make a grown up decision, now. I'm going to hang up the phone. Good-bye, Greg."

Ana pressed 'end.' After a second she turned the cell phone's power off. She got out of the car, locking it, and walked toward the store. She wondered what she would say to Miles when she found him. And, nagging at her was Greg's suggestion that Miles had some secret plan to steal from the winery and meet up with Em. What about his talk about taking a trip, she wondered. And, just happening to run into the one person who knows where his wife is. Ana felt her emotions swinging back and forth as she considered all of this.

She walked toward the set of doors nearest to their parking space. With relief, she saw that she came in on the produce section. She didn't initially see Miles, so she decided to look around the offerings. She found herself fascinated by the variety of greens available. She was examining chards when she felt a nudge on the shoulder.

"Everything OK?" asked Miles. He was pulling a cart with a couple of items.

"Yes, of course. Greg was just worried, he said."

"Your ex husband seems persistent. I hope you don't mind that I left. I thought I should give you some privacy." Ana felt suddenly uncomfortable. Should she question Miles? She was certain he would find Greg's accusations offensive. But, offensive because they were false, or offensive because they might be true? 

"No. Thank you for that. But it wasn't necessary." 

"I'm not worried. If you were conspiring to get back together with Greg, I think that spending the last couple of nights with me might not be the best possible approach." He looked at her, smiling, and raised his eyebrows. "Tell me, Ana, my love. Should I be concerned about Greg Romano?" As he spoke, he was leaning closer and closer to her. She felt his nearness, and felt the familiar sensation. Too much to drink, she thought to herself. But she knew that what she was feeling wasn't the intoxication of alcohol - it was the intoxication of Miles, an intoxication she never felt with anyone else.

Ana's eyes wandered for a second and realized that she was in the produce department of a busy grocery store. No one was looking at them, so far at least. 

"Miles," she practically giggled. "Be nice. We're in public"

Miles looked up and around. He backed himself away. "Sorry," he muttered. "I nearly forgot myself. Do you want to go back out to the car?"

"Miles!" Ana said. "I thought we needed to shop."

Miles laughed out loud, the open honest laugh she heard the first time she saw him. "Just kidding, of course. I can control myself for a few more hours." He looked around, then came close to her, hugging her. "Can you control yourself?" he whispered in her ear. Ana felt strange. She did feel an overwhelming sense of desire. In a grocery store! For a man she really didn't' know that well, which she was beginning to realize. There was a nagging doubt, now. What if Greg's warnings were valid? What if Miles was still involved with Em? What if? 

"What if we have seafood?" Miles voice crashed through her reverie. "No, wait. I forgot. You just had cod for lunch." She looked over to see Miles with a questioning look on his face.

"Actually, I don't mind more seafood. Something other than broiled cod, I mean. Maybe shellfish."

"Let's go see what they have. This store has nice meat and seafood counters, and they'll custom cut, do whatever you want. I hope you understand, I'm not into a steak dinner again tonight."

Ana remembered last night. She spent a lot of time with her friends, but she now realized how much time Miles spent grilling meat every Saturday. It was easy to visualize work at a winery as fun, but she was beginning to see just what was involved in both the cultivation of the vines and the creation of the wines. Plus entertaining the public - tastings, tours, the steak dinners, six days a week.

"Don't worry. I said I would cook, and I will. Take me to the seafood." 

"All the way back and toward the middle," Miles told her. They walked through the voluminous produce area, past a meat counter, and toward a glass case full of fresh and frozen fish.

"What beautiful shrimp!" said Ana. "And oysters, I like oysters, do you?"

"I'm ok with anything. You pick."

Ana choose shrimp, oysters and a few sea scallops. When these were weighed and wrapped, Miles suggested that they go up and down the other aisles, just to look around. Ana agreed, and selected a few other things - imported pasta, olive oil, some fresh herbs, and a couple of pounds of very ripe tomatoes. She went back for some of the chard she was looking at earlier, and also selected some small zucchini squash. Miles had picked out some salad greens while he was waiting for her. They made a pass through the beer and wine section - Miles pointed out the Creek Valley wines on the shelf.

"They only stock our low end stuff - sweet white, sweet red and rose. They did try out some of the drier and pricier wines, but they just didn't sell. Lots of people still want the sweet wines, and for so many years, most of the wine produced in the whole state was that way. It's only in the last ten or so years that the wineries here started to realize that there is a market for dry wines - unfortunately, it's monopolized by wines from California."

"You're right." Ana agreed. "I would never have expected to find you making Cabernet Sauvignon here. I was really surprised when Uncle Chester started to make wine that taste like, well, tasted like wine and not soda pop."

Miles laughed. "When you get to know the grape pickers well, you'll be able to divide them into two, no, make it three groups. There are the sweet wine makers - who make everything sweet."

"Everything?" 

"I'm not kidding. I have had sweet versions of anything you can think of- Cab Sav, Chardonnay, Merlot, you name it. The next group are the dry ones who like oak."

"You mean they use oak barrels?"

"Actually, no. Small oak barrels don't work well - too much oak. So, for these five and ten gallon lots, they use toasted oak chips. And, you can get all different types - like the barrels - American, French, Slovenian, light toast, dark toast, whatever."

"So they put actual wood in the wine?"

Miles nodded. "The wine is racked - that's a fancy word for moved - poured or usually siphoned - off the oak before bottling. But, you should leave it on oak for about a year, otherwise the oak flavor will fade."

"OK, so we have sweet, dry and oak - and who are the others? By the way, I'm learning a lot that I never knew."

"The third group is dry, but no oak. The oak guys use oak in about everything, and their main criticism of any wine is that is doesn't have enough oak. There is a group who just can't stand a hint of oak."

While they spoke, Miles did a silent inventory of the wine department. "They have a nice selection here. Would you like anything?"

"Don't you have wine at home?" Ana asked, surprised.

"More than you can imagine. I'll have to show you all of my keepers in the cellar. But, I just thought you might want something specific for the food."

"White with seafood - that's the rule, isn't it?"

"I think we can make our own rules. Ana banana, may I kiss you?"

Ana looked down the aisle. No one near. She looked back at Miles to give her assent, before she could say anything, he was kissing her. Miles kissed aggressively, but it was a short kiss, leaving Ana slightly breathless and feeling a strange sensation inside.

"You just looked so kissable," Miles explained. They walked toward the check out. "Ana, I'd like it if you would do something for me."

"What is it?"

"We're picking the big red grapes this week - Cab Sav, Cab Franc, Merlot, and a couple of odds and ends of other reds. I'd really like it if you would make your own batch of something."

"I don't know. I've never done it before."

"Its not hard. In fact, the hardest thing will be telling Chester that he doesn't get a double lot of something." Ana remembered that her effort resulted in more wine for Chester. "Don't worry. I'll make some deal with Chester. I think I have something he'll be willing to make a trade for."

"Like what?"

"I have just a little of an Italian grape called Nebbiolo. Barely enough for five gallons of wine. I usually keep it myself, but Chester's expressed an interest. I think he'll forgo ten gallons of something else for the five of that."

"As long as everybody's happy. I know that I'm a dry person, but I don't know if I'm an oak or not oak person."

"Well, you have some time to decide. We won't press the reds for a few weeks after we pick them."

"What will I do with pounds of red grapes? And how many pounds, by the way? How much room do they take up?"

Miles steered the cart toward the check out with the shortest line. He greeted the cashier, then started unloading their groceries. 

"80 pounds or so," he said to Ana. "Usually the guys use a food grade plastic container - trash can size. You can keep yours at the winery." He smiled. "I've seen your place. I don't think you have room for a fermenter full of wine grapes. But, they need to be watched. The caps, that is, the skins that rise to the top and start to firm, should be punched down, literally, at least two, if not three times a day until pressing." Miles pulled out the last of the produce. "You might manage to bribe me to do some of the work. But not all."

Ana shook her head. "No, not under those conditions."

"I think I'm being more than fair." The cashier was slowly weighing the produce items. 

"That's not what I mean. You asked me to make some wine. And, I'm willing to try. But none of this deal where you do the work and later I take credit. Remember, I have a tile floor in my kitchen. I'll put the grapes in there. So what if they take up a little of the floor space for a few weeks. At least I can have them close to watch them."

"What is this?" the cashier asked them, holding up the chard.

"Chard," they said together. "Swiss Chard," Ana added. "I'm impressed by a man who knows his produce," she said to Miles.

The cashier looked up at them. "I believe that," he said. "I keep thinking this job will help me get girls, but so far, no luck."

"Stick with it," said Miles. "it's never a bad thing to know about food. After all, everyone has to eat." The cashier, whose name tag identified him as 'Chet,' nodded. He totaled up the order.

Miles turned to Ana. "Do you want to split this?" As he said the words, she realized that she hadn't even considered that. If she had been shopping with Greg, he would have paid without any discussion. But, she offered to cook for Miles. And, he did buy the lunch. Was it really fair that he pay for everything? 

"That would be great," she said, smiling. 

Miles took out his wallet and extracted almost exactly half the bill. Ana looked in her purse. As usual, she had little cash. She removed her debit card, and slid it through the reader. I'm going to get stuck with this, she thought.

"Ana," said Miles.

"Yes," she said, absently, watching the card reader.

"Take my money. I guess you didn't have enough cash."

"Oh. Thanks. You're right, I don't carry much cash."

Miles moved down to the end of the lane and started bagging the groceries. Chet was still waiting for the card approval. "Thanks, man, " he said to Miles. "No problem," Miles responded. He looked at Ana. "We should make some time to talk about money, make a budget. " Ana's card was eventually approved, and she signed the receipt. By the time Chet finished the transaction, Miles had all of the groceries bagged. He pushed the cart toward the parking lot and Ana followed. She realized that this was going to be a new experience - sharing the expenses. She had never done that before. When they were married, Greg paid all of the bills and she used her salary for other things - clothes, jewelry, cameras, music CDs, computer software - whatever she felt like buying. She sometimes paid for groceries, but only if she happened to shop alone. Now she was living off her severance, but her expenses were minimal - both the condo and the car were purchased for her by Greg as part of the divorce. She really didn't understand that Greg owned the condo, and her car, she didn't like to think about it.

Ana opened the car and Miles put the groceries in the trunk. She was relieved when he got into the driver's side. As they drove away, he was looking at her.

"Am I going too fast?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Ana. One thing you are is easy to read. Already today, I managed to do some things you aren't used to - asking you to drive, splitting the bill, talking about money. I'd guess," he said, picking up her hand, "that you never had these discussions with Greg. I'd further guess that he took care of everything, like your parents did when you were growing up." Ana sat still, looking forward. What was Miles trying to prove? She had already been over the same things in her mind. But, maybe Miles had a point. 




In the Vineyard Ch. 10



"Ana? Am I making you really angry? I don't mean to. I just want to talk about this. I mean, I've already mapped out in my mind what things are going to be like, between you and me, but I guess I should have involved you in the discussion. You see, I live on a strict budget now because of my plans to start my own winery. And, while I'd like nothing better than to be able to give you all of the best, it's not practical right now. Besides, I'm not only planning for my future, I'm planning for our future. I'm not talking about joint bank accounts, or anything like that. I mean, I assume that you handle your car, rent, whatever. And, I wouldn't ask you to put anything toward a winery, but, when the time comes, and if you want to and are able to, great."

Ana turned to him. He was squeezing her hand. She couldn't be mad at him - he looked so sincere. And he was obviously concerned about her feelings. But Greg's warnings echoed in her mind.

"I'm not angry, " she said, shaking her head. "It's just, well, it's different. But, you're a different person and of course we're going to have a different kind of relationship."

"Ana? Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"Promise me you'll answer honestly?" Miles leaned closer to her and kissed the back of her hand. He was smiling broadly.

"I promise."

"Does this driving thing really bother you? I mean, even splitting it? Because if it does, I can be the driver from now on. I don't want to see you get pissed off every time we get in a car."

Ana looked down and didn't say anything. "It does, doesn't it?" he said. "Come on, Ana, I don't care. I can do one little thing to make you happy."

She looked up at him. He was watching, waiting for her reaction. "Its not exactly that this is the thing that will make me happy." She couldn't suppress a smile as she spoke.

He smiled back. "Don't worry, I won't stop trying." 

"Do you think I'm being silly?" she asked.

"No. In fact, I guess I wasn't being enough of a gentleman. I haven't been involved with someone I really cared about for a long time. It's easy to start being self-centered when things are like that."

"Self-centered?" She widened her eyes. "Yes, I can see that..."

"Hey, cut me some slack! At least I paid for lunch! I've been known to turn dates down unless they offered to pay! Remember Nuovo Madrid?"

What a cheapskate, Ana thought.

"Miles! You made her pay?"

"Well," he looked sheepish. "She offered. And, I even told her I didn't want to see her anymore." Miles looked thoughtful. "That seems like years ago, and it was just over a week. What a difference." He leaned close and put his arms around Ana. "Anyway, I really do like the part of you that is so confident and independent. But, tell me if I push too hard. I'm a little out of practice worrying about other people's feelings."

"Miles," Ana said. "Let's get back before the food gets spoiled."

"OK," he nodded. "And, you don't have to do all of the cooking. I might need some help, but I'll give it a shot. I am an experienced grill cook."



In the Vineyard Ch. 11



Miles took the highway back to the winery, and the drive was faster, but less scenic. When they arrived, he drove past the parking lot and pulled into the little lot, parking next to his truck. 

"The good news is," he said to Ana, '"No one is here."

"Aren't you closed?"

"Yes, but I mean no one else - no Jimmy and Brandon, but they're going to see Jack, I almost forgot. And no Todd. He likes to show up sometimes just to be annoying. Actually what he does do is bring unsuspecting females here for winery tours."

"What about his wife? Doesn't she find that strange?"

"I wonder about that. Maybe she's just glad to get him out of the house!"

Miles opened the car door. "Try your key to the door." He handed her back her key ring. She tried the key and the door opened. Miles knew that Ana now had access to the premises, and that she would be considered a suspect should things come up missing. And as Romano's wife, what could Todd do? Miles popped the trunk and carried in the groceries. He put the seafood immediately into the refrigerator, and started sorting out the rest. Just then, the telephone rang. Ana went back to lock her car, then came inside, pulling the door shut. 

"What do you mean everything's OK? I'm coming right there." Miles listened to someone on the other end. He was shaking his head and was visibly upset. "I'm telling you, I'll be right there." He paused again, listening. "OK, but only if I can talk to him. Put him on." Another pause. "Jack? What happened? You were just fine when we left." A pause. "Yeah, Jimmy said you fell. How did it happen? How much more of that wine did you have?"

Miles listened. "You're going home tomorrow? Do you want me to come and get you?" Miles waited while something went on at the other end. He covered the receiver and said to Ana, in a low voice "Jack had an accident. Brandon and Jimmy found him." Miles attention went back to the phone. "What time? OK. I'll be there." He paused again. "No, Jimmy and Brandon can fill in. I'll be here to get them started, and I should be back by the time they're done. Take care. Oh, put Jimmy back on."

"I'm picking Jack up tomorrow at ten. I need you or Brandon here early to watch the picking. Thanks. I'll see you then. Oh, and thanks for letting me know."

He hung up, sighing. He looked at Ana. "I don't know. Maybe I should go over there. I can spend the night and drive him back in the morning." Ana didn't know what to think. What kind of accident had it been? 

"Miles, don't worry about me. Do what you have to. But at least tell me what's going on."

Miles was pacing. He pulled his hair back with his hands. "Jimmy and Brandon found Jack on the floor, unconscious. They thought he'd collapsed. They called an ambulance. According to Jack, he tripped and fell in the bathroom. And I asked him, he wasn't drunk. He says that he slipped on something."

Miles was visibly upset. "Is Jack alright?" asked Ana.

"The hospital is going to keep him overnight, just in case. But they don't think he has a concussion or anything. And, in case you didn't hear, I'm going to pick him up in the morning." He stopped pacing and came toward Ana.

"I'm sorry to blow our evening. It's just, well, Jack is sort of like a father to me." Miles pressed his hand against his forehead. "I don't want to think about anything happening to him."

"Miles," said Ana. "Miles," she said walking up to him. "Miles," she said, taking his hands in hers. He finally acknowledged her. 

"Ana," he said. His voice was husky. Ana thought he was holding back tears. He shook his head, looking downward.

"Miles, it's ok." Ana decided that it was her turn to be the strong one. After all of the silliness of today, who drove, who paid, what difference did it make? "Miles," she said again. "I'm sure Jack will be OK. From what you've told me, there's no need to go see him tonight. If the doctor is letting him go tomorrow, then you can't get him out tonight. Besides, it won't be good for him to see you upset"

Miles looked at her. "You're right, of course. Its not exactly fair for me to skip out on you, either, especially after we bought all of this food."

"That's right. Is it OK if I make myself at home in your kitchen?"

"Go right ahead. What can I do?"

"Why don't you relax for a minute?"

"I'll tell you what - I'm going to go to the cellar and pick out some appropriate seafood wines."

"Sounds great!" said Ana. In the kitchen, Ana looked in the cabinets for pots and pans, a strainer for the pasta. She put some water on to boil, then rinsed the salad greens and the chard. Miles had a couple of heads of garlic, she had forgotten to look for any at the store. She peeled and diced several of the cloves, mixing a small amount with the salad greens and sitting the rest aside. Then, she went through the seafood. She had planned to make a mixed seafood and pasta dish, accented with diced tomatoes and the Swiss chard, sautéed. Miles came back ten minutes later, carrying a case box.

"Isn't that more than we need?" asked Ana. "There are just two of us."

"I only brought up a few bottles. Easier to carry in the box. And not all for tonight. How is the food?"

"Fine. All ready except for the pasta and a quick cook of the seafood - it won't take ten minutes to finish. But, I'm not quite hungry yet. How about you?" She came out around the counter, pleased to see that Miles no longer looked upset. 

"I could use some rest, myself, " he said, winking at her. "Wouldn't you like to take some of those clothes off?" He came close to her, and stroked her shoulders and arms. He removed her cardigan. 

"I can see those breasts again," he said. He held each nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Ana stood still, wondering what he would do next. 

"Lets try something different," he said to her, smiling.

"What?" she asked him. He didn't say anything, but kept smiling. He picked up the cardigan where he had dropped it on the chair and draped it around her shoulders like a cape. 

"I don't want you to get a chill." Miles picked up a key ring hanging by the door. "Follow me," he said to Ana. He went out the front door. She followed and waited while he locked the door. He looked at her. "Food OK for a few minutes?"

She nodded. "Everything's shut off for now but the water. And, it's on low."

"Great. Well, since we had this discussion about being the driver, I thought I deserve a reward for volunteering to take over as your fulltime chauffer."

"Miles! You're making fun of me."

He smiled and bowed. "At your service, madam." He took her hand and led her around to the passenger door of the truck. He unlocked and opened the door, and half lifted Ana up in to the seat. He closed the door and came around to the other side.

The truck had a basic interior. It was beige inside and had a vinyl bench seat. Ana appreciated the fact that it was immaculately clean, and the stereo system was nice - obviously newer than the truck itself.

"Where are we going?" she asked. 

"Not very far. But, put on your seat belt." Miles started the truck, and backed out of the parking space. He drove past his door and Ana saw a narrow gravel road she hadn't noticed before. Miles took this road, and it sloped down. They rode for about two miles before coming to a ledge. Miles parked the truck several yards from the ledge and engaged the emergency break. He turned off the ignition.

"It's too cold to do anything outside, but the view is nice. Let me show you."

Ana wondered what he meant by too cold to do anything outside. She got out of the truck and he walked around to stand next to her. With his arm around her waist, they approached the ledge. Ana looked down and saw a creek running through the bottom of a deep gully. She heard a sound and looked up and across the gully. A narrow waterfall spilled down the side of the rock face. 

"It's nice here," she said.

"It's great in the summer. I come down here, bring a blanket and sit by the edge. It's also secret - sort of. Most of the kids who work at the winery come out here, too. They have picnics, or have a drink. Or make out." Miles turned to face Ana.

"So, is this where you bring the unsuspecting young women?"

Miles looked surprised. "Do I detect some jealousy? Ana, there's no reason for you to feel threatened. I can't help what happened before I met you. Besides, I'm the one who should be jealous. Of Mister big money attorney."

"I told you. I broke up with Greg."

"It's never stopped him before. Not even divorcing him. I'll tell you, you should see the young women around here when he shows up."

"He is good looking," Ana had to admit. "But, I don't think he's my type."

"Didn't we have this discussion before? About type?"

"Yes, but I don't think I answered. I'm starting to go for tall bearded blonds these days. Especially the ones who make wine."

He drew closer to her. "What happens when I shave? After the harvest is over, I always shave the beard off."

"I'll get over it." She reached up and ran her hands through the beard. It had grown from a trace of shadow to a short, but substantial beard in the last weeks. 

"Too cold to do it outside," he whispered and led her back to the truck. They got inside, and Ana wondered what Miles was going to do.

"Be ready to push," he said. He flipped a lever and he pushed the bench seat back a few inches. "That's the max, I think." He looked at her. "Do you remember the last time you made out in a car?"

Ana squinted. "Had to be high school."

"It's a pleasure I hope we can rediscover together." He leaned forward and pulled her sheer sweater up. "We'll have to stay partially dressed, of course, that's part of the deal." He played with her nipples for a few minutes. Then he pulled the skirt up, exposing Ana's underpants. He pulled her legs up into his lap so she was in a reclining position. With one hand under her behind, he used the other to caress her folds, feeling her start to moisten. He started to unbutton his shirt, exposing a clean white undershirt. Ana reached under it to feel his chest. She wanted to hold his nipples like he held hers earlier, just to see what happened. She did and was pleased when Miles made a sound of pleasure. 

"Mine are sensitive, too," he whispered to her. He sat back in the seat and bent over to unlace his boots. He took them off, leaving them on the truck's floor. 

Ana leaned up and unfastened the belt Miles had around his waist. She had some fuzzy memory of making out in a car with a teenaged boy, years and years ago. When she refused to let that boy have intercourse with her, she sucked his penis until he climaxed in her mouth, while her best friend was screwing her own boyfriend in the back seat. When Ana had Miles' belt undone, she unbuttoned Miles' jeans and unzipped them. He was wearing very small, bright blue underwear. She looked up to see what he was doing. He was watching her, breathing hard.

"I wondered what kind of underwear you wore. This is the first time I've taken your clothes off."

He nodded. "So far, it's been the other way around. What do you think?"

"They're cute. Pretty sexy."

"I hoped you'd like them. But, if you prefer boxers, I'll start wearing them. I'll do just about anything for you, Ana. You'll do anything for me, right?"

She smiled, and, with Miles help, pushed his jeans down around his knees. He extracted one leg, but left the other in. Next came his bright blue underpants and out sprang his manhood. Miles was ready.

"Get down on me, Ana. Suck me." Mesmerized, Ana bent down and took the head of Miles' penis in her mouth. "Take it all the way down your throat. That's good, Ana, do it. It feels so good." Ana did as he asked, she wanted to please him and to please herself. She enjoyed giving oral. Miles realized that he'd only known Ana a few days, and that he rather liked telling Mrs. Romano how to suck him. He looked down at her head bobbing back and forth as Ana deep throated him. Wow, Miles thought, she is very, very good at this, where did she learn? 

"That's enough for now," he said. 

Miles leaned over and kissed her, pushing her down flat on the truck seat at the same time. He pulled Ana's skirt up around her waist. In one quick movement he had her panties off, and pushed her sheer sweater up over Ana's breasts. Ana was completely exposed. "Spread wide, Ana." Ana spread her legs as open as she could on the bench seat of the pick up. Then, remembering something, Miles leaned up and opened the glove compartment. Seeing her look, he said, "I put these in here this morning. Seriously. I didn't need them before that. But, I thought I might need one with you. Romano played around a lot, right?" 

Ana remembered that she had been with Miles all morning, but she kept quiet about his false story. 

Unwrapping the condom, he sat back and put it on, and looked at her nude and waiting. Miles slipped his middle finger into Ana's vagina. "You believe me, don't you?" Ana nodded, but her eyes looked away. Maybe she was mistaken. He had no reason to lie about that, she thought. After all, Greg never used condoms and, for all Miles knew they made love earlier this week. "Now put your left leg up over the top of the seat, and stay spread". 

Miles lay on top of Ana. He grabbed her wrists and forcefully held them, with one hand, over her head, as he pushed his penis into her. "Sorry this seat doesn't have better padding," he told her, "your ass will have to do." She didn't say anything, she was enjoying the quick, deep thrusts of him inside her. Miles other hand found Ana's ass, and he fingered her there while screwing her on top. Ana moaned, but their sex was over in a few short minutes.

"Sorry," he said. "I think I was nervous."

"No need to apologize. After all, we did get busted by the authorities earlier today doing almost the same thing." 

Miles laughed. "You're right. I must just be fixated on doing it in vehicles today." He leaned back. "Now pull the condom off of me and clean me up." 

Ana didn't know what to do. Miles penis had shrunk, and the condom was full of his sperm. She tugged at it, and it popped right off. Some of Miles semen oozed onto his limp penis. "Clean me up Ana," Miles said again. Ana leaned forward and licked Miles salty semen, taking the head of his penis back into her mouth, swallowing what she could. "Tongue out the condom," Miles added. Ana turned the condom inside out and licked it clean as Miles watched her. "Now thank me, Ana. Thank me for screwing you."

"Thank you, Miles, thank you for screwing me" Ana purred.

Ana pulled her sweater down and her underpants back up - they were on the floor of the truck. She leaned up and pulled her skirt down. Miles pulled on the other pant leg and fastened the jeans. He put his boots on but didn't bother to lace them up. 

"Hungry?" he asked.

She nodded. "I can finish dinner when we get back."

Miles started to turn the key, then stopped. He turned to Ana, and took her hand.

"Thank you," he said.

"For....?" 

"For being you. And for giving me a chance. For not running away when you heard the truth. Ana, I can't tell you what this all means to me - I never thought I'd get a chance like this again in my life." For an instant, he looked thoughtful, then he brightened. "I have to tell you, this is the most fun I've ever had in this truck!" He turned the key, turned around and drove back up the gravel road.

Ana turned on the broiler when they got back inside. She found a pan and oiled it lightly, arranging the seafood on the pan. The water was just starting to boil.

"Should I start the pasta?" Miles asked her. 

"Go ahead." He dropped the dried fettucine in the pan, stirring it around until it was all covered by water. Miles opened the refrigerator and extracted a bottle of white wine he had put in to chill. "Riesling," he said, extracting the cork. He poured out two glasses. "I guess we'll use that automatic dishwasher later. Otherwise, I'm going to run out of clean glasses."

Ana put the seafood under the broiler. She turned one burner on low to reheat the sautéed chard, garlic and tomatoes. After removing the bowl of mixed greens from the refrigerator, she tossed them with a little oil and salt. "Do you have vinegar?" she asked Miles.

"Of course. We make it here. Wine vinegar, naturally." He extracted a wicker wrapped glass bottle and handed it to Ana. She poured a couple of drops on the greens, tossing it a little more.

"I don't have a table. We can sit at the counter. Or, what I usually do is sit on the floor and eat over there." He pointed to the coffee table.

"Doesn't matter," Ana said. "Whatever you want. But the view is nice" The blinds were open, and the view through the glass wall featured outlines of trees cutting into a multicolored, dusk sky.

He nodded and carried the wine glasses to the glass topped coffee table. "Are those real wine barrels?" Ana asked him, pointing to the bases of the table.

"Yes - you can only use them for wine so many times. This is one of my only contributions here - the rest of the furniture is Jack's."

I guessed that from seeing his place. So, what do you like?"

"I don't know. I don't think about it that much. Seems to me that the nicest rooms I've been in lately have been decorated with a lovely red head, sometimes even one without all of her clothes on. Beyond that, I'm not picky."

Miles came back into kitchen area. He opened a drawer and extracted forks, spoons and knives. He opened another drawer and took out a cheese grater, then turned to open the refrigerator. 

"I always keep a hunk of hard cheese. This is" - he looked at the wrapper -"Pecorino Romano. Imported from Italy, of course."

Ana was impressed. "I completely forgot about grating cheese when we were at the store," she said. "And, you described yourself as so Spartan about food."

"What I do have are things that last awhile. Like I said, hard cheese, I have an assortment of different oils, wine vinegar, of course, dried herbs, and stuff like flour and sugar. Unfortunately, I rarely buy produce or meat - I don't eat it fast enough. If all else fails, the winery serves food daily, and its not too bad."

Miles set out plates and the flatware on the coffee table. He had laid out placemats and cloth napkins, and the setting had a look of casual elegance.

"Do you have another big bowl?" Ana asked him. He opened one of the cupboards and extracted a flat bowl with a painted design. "This OK?"

"Perfect," she said. She tested the pasta, then drained it. She removed the seafood from the broiler, it was lightly cooked. Ana poured the pasta into the bowl, topped it with the sautéed vegetables, then mixed it all together. On top, she spread the scallops, oysters and shrimp. Miles pulled out a set of flat tongs.

"Will this work?" he asked. 

"Very well," she said. "Miles, you do know your way around a kitchen."

He took the bowl from her and carried it over to the coffee table. Ana followed with the salad. She found a set of olivewood salad servers. 

"And, you have nice things," she said. "Or, should I compliment Jack?" she asked. She sat down on one side of the table, crossing her legs under her. Miles seated himself across from her. "No, I confess that the kitchen stuff is all mine. From a long time ago. I mean, even before I was married." Ana watched him closely, He usually tensed when he talked about the past. This time the reaction was slight, but it was still noticeable. 

"I do like attractive things." He picked up a fork. The flatware was antique silver, with a lightly engraved floral pattern. "I am obviously taken with you, after all."

Ana smiled in return. "Shall I serve you?"

"If you like," he said, holding out his plate. She picked up strands of the pasta with the tongs, and made certain to add more pieces of the shellfish. 




In the Vineyard Ch. 11



"Enough," he said, holding his hand up. "I had a big lunch, remember?" He considered for a minute. "I will take another oyster, though. And make sure you eat a few." 

She sighed, in pretend weariness. She had never been around a man who was so interested in her. It was both flattering and intimidating. "Don't you ever get enough?"

"Not of you. But, please, eat. It smells wonderful." Ana served herself from the pasta dish, making certain to take an obvious number of the oysters. They ate slowly, drinking generous amounts of the wine. When the bottle was finished, Miles asked Ana if she wanted any thing else. "I'm switching to water, myself." His eyes met hers. "Some of us still have a drive tonight. By the way, I was thinking...."

"So was I," said Ana. "If I plan to come back tomorrow to pick grapes, and you plan to be here to meet the grape pickers..."

"We can ride together back to your place," Miles finished. "But, all the more reason for you to start keeping things here. So we can be more spontaneous."

Ana agreed. "I'll bring some things back tomorrow. But, you should bring some spare clothes over to my condo, tonight."

"Will do. Salad?" He held the bowl up. "We'd better get wrapped up. It's getting late, almost eight. Plus the drive." They finished eating and carried the dishes back to the kitchen. There was leftover pasta and salad, Miles scooped these into glass bowls with close fitting lids. "Someone will get around to eating this, I'm sure." Ana rinsed off the dishes, hand washing the large bowls and putting the rest in the dishwasher. She looked under the sink and found the detergent, loaded the machine, and pushed the control to start. 

Miles had gone upstairs and was in the midst of gathering some of his clothes. She could hear him fumbling around and knew that he would be at least ten minutes, maybe more. Ana noticed an open drawer near where they had been sitting. Curious, she looked through the drawer. Inside the drawer she found groups of color photographs, bound in plastic pouches, hidden beneath a magazine. The photos were taken at the winery. Immediately Ana recognized the same spot, in the photos, where she and Miles had just made love. But these photos were of younger women with Miles. There were three package sets of photos, thirty seven photos to a roll, plus several more loose extras. The rolls were of three different women, each one a very pretty woman, Ana realized. Women who worked around the winery, she theorized, as she flipped through the sets of photographs. In each set, the woman was photographed dressed in attractive clothes, then in sexy poses partially undressed. But the sets of photos each changed to pictures of each woman completely nude, and then pictures of each one having sex with Miles. And Miles had close up photos of each of these women using her mouth on his penis and engaging in other sexual acts. 

Ana was startled. One of the young women Ana recognized as Nuovo Madrid. Nude, Nuovo was gorgeous. In one photo, Nuovo was on her knees taking Miles in her mouth. Oddly, this was exciting for Ana to look at. She remembered her own experience from an hour ago. Staring at the photos aroused Ana, and she didn't know how to react. There were photos of Miles and each woman in different sexual positions, some group shots with other people, even Miles with two women, all nude. But in one picture Ana recognized someone else, she thought. The picture was old and tattered. It was Tessa, years younger, and Tessa was also completely nude.

Blushing, Ana closed the drawer. She had no right to pry, she thought. She remembered some of the wild times she had had, before she met Greg. She'd even let one boyfriend photograph her nude, in 'compromising' positions. People do it all the time, she thought. And she didn't want to go into true confessions or confront Miles, she knew that. When would Miles want to take nude photos of her? Would she let him? Or be too afraid, afraid that Miles would send copies to Greg or to her mother? So what if Miles had misled her about those other women. What did she expect such a man to say? But Tessa? Miles wasn't in that picture, and there was only one. Anyone could have taken it. It doesn't mean a thing. But Tessa certainly was a beauty. Ana wondered all the more what Em looked like.

Miles came back down, wearing a leather coat, carrying a small suitcase and a plastic suit travel bag. "I've got some jeans, some shirts, some casual slacks and some dressier clothes - a sport coat, shirt and tie and dress pants. Plus socks, shoes and underwear, of course. And," he smiled broadly, "a new toothbrush. I'll get some shaving things out of the bathroom, then I'm set."

Ana didn't mention the pictures, not at all. And she was glad she didn't have to make the drive home alone. "I'll load your things in my car," she said. "We should take my car - my neighbors are used to seeing it." She thought, but didn't say, "Greg might drive by and he'd recognize your truck."

"OK," said Miles as he walked away. He picked up the case box of wine he had brought in earlier. It still held a few bottles. Might as well move some of it over there, he thought. He did a final check - oven off, blinds closed, a couple of lights left on for safety, realizing that he might not be staying there for a long time. Upstairs, he'd opened the safe and moved the valuables inside - camera, notebook computer, the box of condoms (he pocketed a few). He also locked the lacquer cabinet that housed the stereo and other computer. Curious, he thought. He listened to a lot of music when he was alone - when he was with Ana, he didn't miss it. She drew all of his attention.

Ana came back in the door. "Ready?" she asked.

"Ready as ever," Miles replied. "Its only for a few hours, anyway."

He carried the case box outside and he locked the door. She handed him the car key. "The chauffeur is at your service, Ma'am," he said. 

"Miles, that's not fair, " she chided him. "You can't make fun of me every time."

He agreed. "You're right. I won't. But I was just joking." He unlocked the car with the key and still ran around to open her door. 

"Maybe I can make some extra points with good manners," he said. "By the way, did you enjoy the oysters?"

Ana nodded. "I'm sorry we have to make this drive now, but I simply cannot stay without clean underwear!"

"Perfectly understandable, my dear,'" he said. "When I make my first million, I will buy you a year's supply." Ana laughed. Miles was in such a good mood. And, she was looking forward to spending another night with him. He loaded the case box in the trunk, and got in the car.

The drive went quickly. Ana started to fiddle with the radio, and found some music they both instantly responded to, old show tunes being sung by the likes of Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett and Billie Holliday.

"My dad," Miles told Ana, "in addition to jazz, really loved some of this music. Gershwin, Cole Porter, Irving Berlin."

"My parents, too," said Ana. "But more Mother than Daddy. Mother used to sing," Ana remembered. It had been a long time ago, so long ago that Ana had almost forgotten. She could still hear her mother, singing along with Doris Day records. "Do you play anything?" she asked Miles.

"To my father's utmost disappointment, no. A few chords on the acoustic guitar. I used to play and sing some old country tunes - but I'm long since out of practice. In fact, the guitar is still at my mother's house. Along with some other things. Oh, shit!" he said suddenly.

"What is it?"

"Oh, its not really that bad. Its just, I promised Jack that I would call my mom tonight. I haven't spoken to her in a month. Jack gives me a hard time whenever that happens."

"You have your phone, don't you? I have mine, if you need it."

"Its not that. I don't like to talk and drive."

"Pull over, then. I can use a stretch." They were about halfway through the drive. "Stop somewhere and I'll walk around, use the ladies room, give you some privacy."

"Ana. I'm talking about my mother. I don't plan to say anything to her that you can't hear."

"Just the same. Stop somewhere. Up there." An interchange loomed ahead, gas station lights on both sides. Miles took the exit and opted for the larger of the stations. Ana, true to her word, got out of the car. Miles got out too, but leaned against the car. He looked at the clock. Eight forty five. Late, but not too late. She picked up on the first ring.

"Hello." 

"Hi, mom."

"Michael" She sounded happy to hear from him.

"How are things?"

"Oh, Michael. I'm so glad you called. Things are just fine. I'm in the midst of working toward two exhibitions now - one down at the capital and the other out of state. Both quilts, this time. People really go for quilts, it seems."

"I'm glad you're busy."

"Busy isn't the word. But tell me, how are you?" 

"I'm doing OK."

"How's the wine this year? Or are you getting bored, pretending to be someone else?"

"The wine should be good, and I am not pretending. I am someone else. You should come by the winery - this weekend will be about it for high season. But come by sometime when it's not so busy so I can spend some time with you."

"Michael, I know you well, I gave birth to you. And I always will prefer the name your father and I christened you. Your switch from Michael David Long, to Miles Davis DeLong, it's almost comical. Do your friends really think that I would name my son 'Miles Davis'? 

"Some do. I made up a story that describes why."

"Michael, you have never just called to say hi. What's going on?"

"I saw Jack today, and he isn't doing well."

"I know. I've talked to him. He's convinced that he won't make it through the year. I'm afraid that it he keeps thinking that, well, you know, self fulfilling prophecy." 

Miles could see Ana coming out of the service station. She spotted him still on the phone and went back inside. He could see her through the glass, picking up magazines and glancing through them.

"Jack wants you to do some things. Has he talked to you about it?"

"Of course he has. He told you?"

"Michael, I can't disagree that you should finally get yourself a divorce. What if you meet someone?" He didn't answer.

"Michael? What's going on?"

"Mom, I don't want to talk about all of Jack's plans. But, yes, I have met someone. And, Mom, I think I'm...no, Mom, I am in love with her."

"Michael, how long have you known this person?"

"Well....a few days."

"It's more than a little early to consider love. Infatuation, but not love." She sounded worried. "Please be careful. You sound like you're trying to convince yourself that you love her. That's not good. And if she is telling you that she loves you, after a few days, be warned. There's an uphill and a downhill to falling in love, and there are no shortcuts."

"I want you to meet her. I know you had a feeling about Em. And, I know you were right. I want you to meet Ana. I'm sure this time. Really certain. But, I want you to be certain, too. Can we do it next week, maybe?"

His mother sighed. "Next week is so hectic....," she started. 

"Or the week after, if it's better. You could come up here?" Miles didn't reply. He had not visited his hometown since moving to the winery.

His mother tried to explain. "Obviously, Michael, it's much easier for me if you come up here."

"We'll work something out," he said finally.

"That means you won't come up here. Michael, you spent most of your life here. Don't you miss it? I would expect that your lady friend would like to see the house you grew up in."

Miles was quiet again. 

His mother sighed. At least I tried, she thought. Maybe the right woman will shake him out of this. "I can find a day to come down in the next week or so. To see you and meet your friend."

Miles felt a sense of relief. "You'll like her. I'm sure you will."

"Her name is Ana?"

"Yes. Ana. Mom, she's wonderful. She's different than any woman I've ever known." As an afterthought, he said, in an overly sweet voice, "But, somehow, she reminds me of you."

"Michael David Long, you will never stop telling me bullshit!"

He laughed. His mother heard the laugh and thought that she hadn't heard him sound so happy in years. Before the marriage, at least. Maybe this really was right.

"Call me," she said. "And tell that old SOB Jack Formby that he has no right to die. Not yet, at least!"

"I will. Bye, mom."

"Bye, Michael." 

"Later," said Miles. He felt a twinge of regret, why had he been so stubbornly against going up there. His mother was right, he lived most of his life in that town. But he was someone else then, and again, there was Em - memories of his mother always interfering. What would it take to get away from that? Ana wandered out of the gas station. She saw Miles hang up his cell phone. 

"Might as well get gas while we're here," he said. They both got in the car and he drove next to one of the pumps. Miles got out and started pumping the gas. Ana got out and watched him.

"How was your mother?"

"Fine. Everything's fine." He looked at Ana. "I'd like her to meet you."

"Sure," she said. "When?"

"Maybe next week sometime. She's busy up there, but she said she can come down."

"Where is up there, anyway?"

"Hamilton. In Lincoln County."

"I know where it is. When I worked in insurance, the college up there was a client. Northern U."

He looked at her, surprised. "So you've been up there?"

"Sure. I've been all around the area. It's not very big. Mostly like you described. The kind of town where everybody knows everybody. Believe me, it was a tough job to get their insurance contract. We had to fight all kinds of local politics and competition too."

"Sounds like you have a better reputation there than I do."

Change the subject, Ana, she thought, before he starts getting wrapped up in the past again, or in what she had to do to land those contracts. 

"Did you go to school there?"

"No. I went to the state university. They have a better business school program, and I knew I'd eventually go after my MBA."

"I went there, too. Communications degree."

Miles finished pumping the gas. He looked at the pump number. Ana was watching him.

"Don't worry. The gas is on me. My idea to commute." He winked at her. "Good thing you were so many years behind me in school. If I had a distraction like you, I would have had a hard time keeping my mind on my studies."

"You probably had plenty of coeds chasing after you in those days."

"I had my share of fun in college. But, honestly, I didn't date much. Too obsessed with my future. I always told myself that there would be time for relationships later." Miles walked toward the station to pay. Ana got back into the car, wondering why Miles didn't use a credit card. He came back, started the car, and they drove down the road.



In the Vineyard Ch. 12



Miles and Ana drove back to the condo, passing the drive time with little conversation. So many things had been thrust at Ana about Miles, but nothing had diluted her enthusiasm for him. Ana was feeling tired, it had been a long and active day.

She was relieved when Miles pulled the car off the interchange near her condo. Remembering that he came in by an alternate way on Friday, she directed him to the main entrance of the complex. As they drove in, Ana couldn't help looking around for either of Greg's cars - she couldn't shake the feeling that he was going to be watching her. She didn't see any sign of Greg's cars - neither his Mercedes convertible roadster nor his four door sedan. Miles pulled the car toward the garage; he reached upward and found the door opener on the sun visor. The garage door lifted and they pulled in. Ana was relieved as the door closed behind them. She felt privacy - even if Greg was out there, he couldn't see anything now that they were inside. 

Miles stepped out and was already opening the house door. Of course, Miles had a key now. He opened the door, and then he went back to the car. Retrieving his bag, Ana's things and his hanging clothes, he carried all inside. He looked around hesitantly. "Where should I?" he began.

"How about the closet in my bedroom? I have plenty of space to hang things. Other stuff, socks, underwear, let me clear out a drawer or two."

"You don't have to do that. I can bring over a box, or something."

"No, it's no problem. You don't need to live out of a cardboard box, Miles. I have a lot more storage space than I need. There is even another bedroom, but it's full of workout equipment. "

Miles nodded and went down the hall. Ana went to the telephone to check her answering machine. She looked at it. Seven messages. She sighed and hit 'play'.

First Message, the computer voice said.

"Ana, it's Greg. Its Saturday afternoon. I was hoping that you would meet me..."

Ana hit the sequence to erase. 

Next Message.

"Ana, hi. It's Greg. It's about... six on Saturday. Where are you? I drove by and knocked. I've been calling your cell, too. Ana, I'm getting worried....."

She erased it too.

Next message.

"Ana" Greg's voice again. "it's after eleven on Saturday. I just stopped by...."

Erase.

Next Message.

"Ana." Thankfully, a female voice. "Its Vern. Sunday morning, and I need to tell you we had a wonderful time! And, that Miles is so oh cute! I do hope this works out for you, honey. Oh, and, by the way, Greg called here this morning. I wasn't exactly straight - told him we went to the winery together last night, but I hadn't talked to you since then. I tried to suggest that you just weren't answering the phone. I don't think he bought it, though. Let me know how you are. Chris says hi. And, wait a minute...." A pause. "Chris says you and Miles should come over for a cookout, sometime. He says he'll be much better, thanks to the tips. I'll give you the scoop on Mary, as soon as I find out. See ya, kid."

Erase.

Next Message

"Ana, it's your mother. I just wondered if you were on your way yet. Call me when you hear this."

Erase.

Next Message

"Its Vern again. Mary is coming over later with Manny. What a pair! They are going to some photography exhibition this afternoon, and then we're all going to go out. If you're around, give me a call. Especially if you're around with your cutie! Anyway, I'll keep you posted."

Erase.

Next Message

"Ana. It's Greg." 

"It's Sunday, we just talked on your cell phone. You said that you want me to leave you alone, and I will. I know you're not at home, that's why I'm calling this number. I don't expect a response or reply." A pause. 

"Ana, I hope you're by yourself as you listen to this." Ana looked up to see Miles walking down the hall toward her. He heard Greg's words, too, but stood still. Ana met his gaze, she couldn't read it. Greg's voice went on.

"Ana, I listened to what you said the earlier tonight. And, I actually agree. We need space away from each other. A very big space. After all, what I did - while we were married - I understand how hard that is to work through. My guilt was so strong. I felt the only way to redeem myself was to remarry you, to show you and your mother that I can be faithful. Maybe someday in the far off future we might consider counseling. But more probably, we'll never have a chance at each other again. I have passed through the guilt stage. We tried, it didn't work, and trying to put the pieces together again is almost impossible. I am certainly not going to chase after you or continue to beat my head against the wall. I've shed enough blood. Anyway, I will give you your space. I won't bother you anymore. Myself, don't be concerned about me, there are many fantastic people out there, women who offer the whole package. But, Ana," his voice was strained, "I know that, like anyone on the rebound from an unfaithful spouse, you're vulnerable. Please be careful. I don't know how to say this without sounding bitter, so I'll just say it."

"You're light years better than that investment embezzler Michael D. Long. I've known him for many years, I knew him when he tried to blame his business failures on his wife Mary. He's skimming at the winery, he's a penniless pauper and a thief, and he'll screw any gal under twenty-five - do you really want to be a part of his group? And the Formbys, they will do anything, including having him arrested, to get him out."

"Ana," Greg sounded upset, "I don't want to use your tape up, but please, if you must sow some wild oats, find someone with substance, with depth of character. I don't want to see you hurt." 

"Remember this Ana. I have really cared about you for so many years. Give my advice some credence, I know you well. Goodbye."

Ana thought, he used her mother's phrase about wild oats. And, he didn't say 'love' at all. And who's Michael D. Long? Is that Miles' real name? Covering her hand, Ana pressed 'save', and looked up toward Miles. He was standing in the same place. 

Miles must have heard the whole message, Ana thought. What could he say? Greg had spoken well, sounding apologetic, sincere, contrite, then following with the facts and the warnings, sounding as though he really cared. What possible explanation was there to what he said? 

But Greg's words expressing thanks to Ana seemed meaningless, as did the warnings about Miles. Miles had already told Ana that he changed his name, that was no surprise. Was there anything Miles ever said to her that was true? Miles heard the accusations, how would he defend himself?

Ana walked toward Miles standing in the hallway. Why isn't he saying anything, she wondered? She approached Miles, and saw the confusion in his face. Miles looked like a dog caught pooping on an expensive oriental rug. He can't possibly think that Greg's words meant something to her, she thought. Certainly Greg must have made the whole thing up, probably just a lucky guess as to Em's real name, Ana thought. But, Miles didn't have his usual confident gaze. Should she say something, she wondered, and she stopped to think. The reason I am drawn to Miles is that he's a rebel, a loner, and that he's mysterious. And that he has a reputation as a womanizer. He has nothing, no real estate, no job, no kids, no baggage - only a dream of a winery. Miles' world is the opposite of the world of my marital responsibilities and of my corporate insurance job. And opposites attract. Maybe I should try something different, she thought.

The last thing Miles expected, as Ana came close to him, was Ana getting down on her knees, and starting to unfasten his belt, as she had earlier done in the truck. Greg's words and warnings had gone in her one ear and out the other. Ana dismissed Greg as typically jealous and materialistic. That Miles was a consistent failure, or even a thief, meant nothing. Ana thought only of the sex pictures she'd found, about how beautiful the women looked, and that she wanted to be as 'hot' as the young beauties. If there was a competition with Nuovo, Ana wanted to win. After opening Miles' belt, Ana unfastened his jeans and pulled them down again. Miles stepped back. Ana pulled his blue bikini underwear down, too. She started to stroke between his legs with her hands, following with her mouth.

"Ana, what are you doing?" he said, hoarsely. 

Miles looked down on the kneeling Ana. As he watched her he noticed, for the first time, Ana's dark roots pushing out her dyed red hair. The bright light in the hallway accentuated the color difference. And it was evident on Ana's bleached, and then dyed, eyebrows as well. It occurred to Miles that Ana was as artificial as his new name. Her breasts do sit high, Miles thought, and a bit too round and perfect. And she was unemployed. Why hasn't Ana ever mentioned finding a job?

Ana continued to try and please Miles. She worked her way upward with her mouth, and finally stopped when she reached his now hardened maleness.

"Ana....," Miles whispered. "Ana..., you don't need to..."

Ana took him in her hands and started to run her tongue around the shape. She ran her tongue up and down, holding on with her hands. She used her tongue to moisten as much as she could, teasing Miles, then finally put her mouth over the tip. 

"Oh, god." Miles mumbled. "Ana..."

Still kneeling, she took him in her mouth, starting to rock back and forth. Ana wanted to give Miles the best oral sex he'd ever had, far better than what he got from the twenty year olds in the photos. She had pleased many lovers this way in her past, before and after Greg, she knew that men enjoyed it. Ana also knew well how to bring a man to climax using just her mouth. She wanted to suck Miles dry, and she wanted him to photograph her doing it. We'll send the pictures to Greg, Ana thought. I can be as wild as anyone. Open your mouth wider, she cautioned herself. Deeper, deeper, she thought. She was just beginning to get comfortable with the motion when Miles took a hold of her head. He drew her back and pulled her body up. Once again, he stopped her.

"Don't work that beautiful mouth so hard," he said.

"Miles," she gasped. "I didn't even get close to working hard. I can give, when I want to, the best head in this state. A ton better than any twenty year old."

Miles was confused by Ana's remarks. What was she trying to prove? He took her face in his hands, looking at her. "You make your own decisions, right?"

Ana wasn't sure what he meant, but she had a guess. But the fact was that she rarely made her own decisions, and often wanted and needed to be told what to do.

"Miles, I don't care what anyone, even Greg Romano, says about you." She stopped for a second. She asked herself, "are you sure, Ana?" She remembered Greg's words, especially 'Goodbye'. But I am sure, she told herself. "I love you, Miles. I love you!" 

Miles recalled the words of his mother. Two days and she loves me? Who is she kidding? Ana certainly doesn't know much about love, Miles thought. I may despise Greg Romano, but Ana is involved with me for one reason - to hurt him. But what's the difference, two can play this game. I certainly have nothing to complain about. This hot fire will burn out quickly, in the meanwhile I'll enjoy myself. 

Miles smiled at her. "Ana, sweet, we've got to get some sleep. No matter how much I want to engage in acrobatic sex tonight, there is hard work to be done tomorrow." 

Ana started toward the bedroom. Miles pulled up his underwear and jeans so that he could walk, following her. "I love you, too, by the way," he said. "And your wonderful ass," he added. Ana looked back at him, ready to throw a smart reply, but she saw him, with that almost annoyingly sincere look on his face. Seeing her, he asked, "What?"

"Nothing," she said. She stopped. "Miles, you say these things, sometimes I think you're making fun of me..."

"Like what?"

"Like I have a nice ass."

"So you do. Shouldn't I say so?"

Ana shook her head no. 

"Ana. That's a bad example. I am not making fun of you."

"You're whimping out."

"Not at all. I just don't want to get into a long, involved conversation, when we have to get up so early." He sighed. "How about the short version?"

"Answer away. Why do you make fun of me?" 

"Ok, Ana. I don't make fun of you. Remember, I said that I could learn from you, and I have."

"Myself, when we met, I started by explaining that Cab Sav meant Cabernet Savignon. You nodded, but I wondered if you knew what I meant, or if you were just trying to be agreeable. I talked about the difference between hand and mechanical picking. Then, I mentioned varietals, and I was going to explain them, but you not only knew, you gave me examples, and explained to me that it was a common American, or maybe you said California phenomena."

Miles looked at her. "Maybe this is sexist, but that was the most intense wine conversation I have had with a female for an incredibly long time. Until Cassy, the other day." 

Ana made a face.

"You were gone, for quite a while, with Cassy yesterday," Ana said. "Did you show her the creek bed, where we made love today?"

Miles ignored her question. 

"Say what you like," Miles said, "that woman knows her stuff. Of course, that's her job. Anyway, after our first talk, I assumed you were well read, well versed about wine, and I wasn't kidding about learning from you." 

"But Miles, I asked you about Cassy. Did you take her to that private place or not?"

"Well.....we drove that way and we were there......for a little bit."

"And did Cassy look good.... nude? You did have sex with her, didn't you? You bastard!" Ana no longer trusted Miles, and Cassy had obviously waited around on Saturday night expecting to sleep with Miles.

"Well, no and yes, in reverse order. As you saw, she was throwing herself at me, and she does have a beautiful body, but I did not have intercourse with her. Didn't happen."

"What did?"

"Nothing happened, Ana, nothing between us that is."

"And you...well...damn it Miles, tell me what happened between you and Cassy!"

"Nothing. Cassy wanted to walk though the vines nude, ok? As you know, I don't have a problem with nudity. I didn't ask her to. She wanted the leaves and the grapes to touch her bare breasts and rub against her thighs and ass. She asked if it was ok with me. No one was around, so I said fine, if you want to do it, do it. I'm not going to lie. Cassy looked fantastic as she teased me, slowly undressing. She handed her clothes to me, her dress, her bra and her panties. Then she romped through the vines naked. The sweet sticky juice from the ripe grapes squashed against her, and yes, I licked as much of it off of her as I could. But Ana, I didn't screw her."

"Did you take your own pants off?"

"Enough, Ana. I didn't screw her, and that's the end of the story".

They reached the bedroom, and Miles pulled his pants back down. He was angry with Ana for pressing him about Cassy, about what they did or didn't do. It was none of Ana's business, at least not then, and if Miles was lucky enough to have Cassy run around nude in front of him, so what. Ana knows I enjoy nudity.

"OK if I sleep like this?" he asked. He had unbuttoned his shirt, pulled his undershirt off, and started to pull his bright blue bikinis down.

"Fine," said Ana. 

She was feeling a little strange about undressing herself in front of Miles, especially after the talk about Cassy. It was the first time she had done it without his help. And she was still challenged by the photos of the younger women, and now about Cassy too. Cassy did have a very attractive figure, Ana thought, plus she had a great job and a bright future.

Miles noticed that Ana was slow to undress. All the lights were on. Miles crossed the room to her. Change the subject, he thought. "Ana, as a wine lover, you've already shown yourself to be an expert twice."

"Twice?" Ana asked. Miles removed both sweater tops and started to pull down Ana's skirt.

"Domaine Tempier - that showed incredibly good taste, if I say so myself."

"And number two?"

"Your mystery wine. Whatever it was."

"Oh, that." Miles had removed Ana's shoes and was taking her panties down. "I didn't pick that. It was more.....thrust upon me."

"Like this?" Miles asked, standing next to her. He pushed himself toward her and Ana felt his hard penis poking her waist. Miles then looked at the clock and sighed. "It's late, but what can we do?"

Miles went back to the jeans and pulled something out of the back pocket. He put it on more quickly than Ana remembered him doing before. 

"Ana, forgive me for seeming to be in a hurry...." He took her hands gently, then guided her into the bed, pulling the covers aside. As she started to lay back, he was suddenly upon her. 

"Short night, tonight," he said. "But you, Mrs. Romano, I am having you for dessert. Spread your legs." Miles was quickly inside Ana, penetrating, pumping. He drew close, and clung to her. He started to climax, she could feel it, but then he withdrew, momentarily, taking a break before he climaxed too quickly. 

"I want this to last tonight, Ana. Roll over and lean back. I am going to do you from behind." Ana did as Miles asked. She wanted to show him that she could give him more than the young beauties. Then Miles got up from Ana's bed, and he studied her as she knelt on all fours. "Lean forward" Miles said. "Now lean back. Open your legs wider."

Smack! Ana jumped as Miles swatted her bottom. Smack! Ana jumped again. Smack! Smack! Smack! Miles was turning Ana's bottom bright crimson. Smack! Smack! Each of Ana's cheeks was now aglow with imprints of Miles' hand. "How does that feel Ana?"

"It hurts...but...it feels warm." Smack! Smack! Miles kept it up as Ana began to moan and whimper.

"Are you my slut now?" Smack!

"Yes, Ana replied, yes." Smack!

"Yes, Miles."

Miles climbed back on the bed. He entered Ana from behind and the sensations Ana felt across her spanked bottom were overwhelming. Miles penetrated her, slowly, thrusting until she started to react. He moved with her, sensing her responses, deeper, deeper, more and more quickly, until he could feel the flutter inside and her body quivering. 

Then Miles found some night cream near the bed. He oozed the cream on Ana's fanny, opening her there and fingering her as he continued pumping her vagina. Ana moaned loudly. It had been a long time since Ana was this excited, this kinky, and she felt major sensations roll through her body. Before she could say yes or no, Miles entered her there. His hard penis felt so big. It was not the first time Ana had her fanny taken. Once, when she was drunk and while Greg was away, she had let an insurance salesman from Kansas have her butt in a hotel room near Cleveland. But sex there still hurt, while it also felt warm, so erotic and so different to her. 

In a few minutes, Miles was pumping his semen into her behind. Not so bad, two times in one day, he was thinking, as he rolled over onto his back. He was so tired, though. Ana also was so incredibly tired. She sought out Miles' body and clung to him. Miles reached up to turn the light out, trying not to disturb Ana. The feeling of her holding on to his body was something he had never imagined. Then he felt Ana's hands pulling the condom off. She wrapped the condom in tissue and placed it in her wastebasket. Ana then mouthed Miles' soft penis until he fell asleep. They slept the sleep of satisfied lovers, wrapped around one another.

The sound of the alarm was something Ana had forgotten in the weeks without a job. She sat upright, silently cursing the fact that it had been set. She looked at the clock - six a.m. and cursed out loud.

Miles reached to the snooze button on top of the clock. He must have set it when he moved his things in here, Ana thought.




In the Vineyard Ch. 12



Miles grasped her still upright body and pulled it down. She gratefully snuggled back up against him.

"Ana, my love," he murmured to her. "You have a decision."

"What is it?" she said, clinging close to his chest. She felt like she could sleep like this for hours.

"We, at least I, need to be at the winery around eight."

Ana was momentarily annoyed at how awake Miles sounded. And, how business like.

"Hour drive, leave at seven," she said, matter of fact like.

"Ana, sweet," his voice was insistent. "It's Monday. Traffic is always worse on Monday. The question is, do you want to arrive at eight, like we tell the pickers, or arrive before?"

Ana breathed deeply. "Who cares what the pickers think?"

"Ana, darling. One of the first pickers to arrive is usually Chester. Uncle Chester, I mean."

Ana started waking. She sat up to see Miles looking at her with amusement.

"Ana. It isn't that serious. We can get there at a quarter to eight, and beat everyone. I don't know how long it takes you to get ready." He grabbed her around the middle and pulled her back on the bed. "But, we should start the day out right, shouldn't we?"

Ana responded by kissing Miles. 

"Six twenty to be safe, six thirty to be on time, " Miles said.

"So we do have an extra minute."

They kissed, rolling this way and that. Ana could sense the restlessness and was reminded of when Miles was embracing her yesterday morning, in front of Cassy Combs. "Miles," she said. "You decide when to leave."

She wasn't surprised when Miles gave her one last deep kiss, then pulled away. "Ok if I shower? I have to pick up Jack later this morning."

Ana remembered. "Go ahead. There should be spare towels in the bathroom. Coffee?"

"Please," Miles said as he walked through the door to the bathroom. He looked back at her on the bed. "Ana?" he stopped. "I don't want to tell you what to do, but..."

"What, Miles?"

"Pass on a shower now and take one this afternoon, I mean at my place. Just pack some things." He looked at her to see her reaction.

"As long as you don't think I smell bad, or anything," she said, laughing. "That was quite a romp we had last night." 

"That's exactly right. And you will have the odor of our sex on you the whole time this morning. From your mouth, from your crotch and from your fanny. Not that people can smell it, they can't, but they can sense it. They can detect your hormones, our hormones." 

Ana had a shower yesterday, and it would save them time. She could tell he was in a hurry to leave, so she agreed to skip the rinse off.

"Pack a lot of underwear," he said with a smile. He looked at her with an unusual expression. "If you like, bring something nice for this afternoon. I'm free late in the afternoon."

Ana blushed and was glad when Miles went into the bathroom and started his shower. She did own some erotic underwear - purchase on a whim years ago. Ana quickly gathered some things - the white and black erotic set with stockings to match, jeans, several pairs of panties and bras, a cotton skirt, one dress, a sweater and various tops. She stared at her shoe collection - did she really own that many pairs of shoes - then settled on two pairs, comfortable mid heels that would work with jeans or dressier clothes, and a pair of short black dress boots. The coffee pot was just finishing its cycle as Miles emerged from the shower. Ana went to the kitchen, poured two cups, added milk and carried them back into the bedroom. 

Miles was nude in Ana's bedroom, waiting for her. He took the coffee from Ana, thanking her, and he took a large swallow. His notebook computer was open on the dresser, displaying a database program. Seeing Ana look at it, he said, "I'm just adding up what's left. To divide the picking days out evenly. Looks like Merlot, and some odds and ends today." He closed out the program, then turned the computer off. Turning around, he eyed Ana appreciatively. 

"I wouldn't mind it if you stayed like that all day." She was wearing the green silk robe and nothing else. "Especially when you bend forward like that," he said, bending down himself to get a better look inside the robe. 

Ana giggled. "I thought we had to go."

"We'll leave soon enough. Take off the robe." Ana removed the robe and tossed it on her bed. She and Miles were now each nude. 

"Kneel down, Mrs. Romano."

Ana didn't like being called that. As she went to her knees, Miles pulled her face toward his privates. He was ready for her. Ana smelled the scent of the shower soap on his organ. She took him as far into her mouth as she could, still hoping to show Miles her skills at oral sex. She felt him grow huge in her mouth. And this time, surprisingly, it worked. As Ana sucked and squeezed Miles, he began to climax. Miles withdrew his penis, and started to ejaculate onto Ana's face. Then Miles pushed Ana back and finished his climax onto her breasts.

"Rub it in Ana," Miles said, as Ana ran her tongue around her lips. Ana rubbed his semen onto her neck and breasts with her hands and then sucked her fingers. Miles looked at the clock, confident that Ana would carry his scent all day. Six twenty. He shook his head. "Duty calls, my love. I'll leave you to dress. Your things are in there?" He pointed to a large duffle.

She nodded. "It looks like I'm over packing, doesn't it?"

"I'm not worried. The more you move to my place, the more likely you are to stay." He came close and put his arms around her. "Not that I mind staying over here." He sniffed. "You smell nice, even without a shower." He unwrapped his arms and picked up the bag. "Its chillier today. Dress warm. And Ana, you will put this on."

Miles went to his own belongings and produced a dog collar, a bright blue collar one inch in width, complete with a belt buckle and a strap hook. "Lean forward," Miles said, and as Ana did he tightened the collar around her neck. 'Too tight?" Miles tested the tension. "A good fit, Ana. You are to wear the collar until I remove it. Now get dressed, but no bra or underpants."

Ana pulled on some loose fitting jeans. She found a long sleeved cotton tee, and pulled a green flannel shirt on over it. She was lacing up her work boots when Miles came back into her room. 

"Just let me get my coat." Ana pulled her hair back and, picking up the coffee cup, went back down the hall. Stopping at the closet, she took out her work coat. She checked the pocket - the clippers were still there. Grabbing a hat and sunglasses, she double checked the front door - still locked. She turned off the coffee pot, and went to the garage. Miles followed. He already had the car keys, and raised the garage door. 

As the door lifted, Ana looked out, nervously. What if Greg was out there watching? She remembered his phone message, and the word 'Goodbye'. He had said that he would leave her alone. But there was also that warning about Miles. Would Greg think it was alright to interfere if Miles was involved? Or maybe Greg had stopped caring. Would Miles be as fun if there was no Greg?

But no sign of his car. No sign of Greg anywhere. And no calls. The thought appeared to Ana, for the first time, that her sexual involvement with Miles gave Greg the excuse he needed to find someone else. Greg's remarks, about women with 'the whole package', hung in her mind. Ana had lost it, her job, her income, her future. All she had were the things Greg had given her, and she maybe didn't even own them. She stood, wearing a dog collar that Miles had tightened around her neck, and watched Miles back her car out and down the driveway. Six thirty five. 

"Lets see what kind of time we make."

Traffic was, as he feared, horrible that morning. They hit the first snafu even before getting on the highway - an accident on the on ramp itself, involving three cars. No one appeared hurt, but one car sat, disabled, in the center of the ramp.

"Is it worth trying to go around?" Miles asked Ana.

She shook her head. "Not if we're this close." They were only a few cars back and large numbers of cars were going the other way. "By the time you get turned around, plus go the five or so miles to get to the next exit, well, it's usually not worth it. There are about ten busy intersections between here and there."

Miles nodded and put the car in neutral. "Patience is a virtue," he said. "Or, is it, no time like the present." He leaned over and took Ana's face in his hands. He started to kiss her, slowly, deliberately, then took one hand and rubbed her jeans between her legs. "I almost hope it takes a long time to get that car out of the way," he murmured, then resumed the kiss. But, within a couple of minutes, horns were honking, traffic resumed moving. "Ok, ok," said Miles, addressing the honking horn behind him. There was now a space between them and the cars in front. He put the car in gear, waving his hand up to acknowledge the driver behind, and drove forward onto the freeway. Ana had tuned the radio to National Public Radio, and listened intently to the news. She had also grabbed the morning paper, and was glancing through it.

"You notice something odd?" Miles asked her.

"What do you mean?" They drove along in dense, almost bumper to bumper traffic, moving just below the speed limit.

"Everyone else is alone," he said.

"Alone?" she asked, puzzled.

"In their cars. Look around. We're about the only people sharing a ride. And, I bet a lot of these people go the same direction at the same time, day after day."

Ana agreed. "One thing I don't miss about work - driving in or out during rush hour. I was lucky a lot of the time that I traveled, so I drove during off hours."

"I never cared that much for the big city," Miles said. "That's why, after college, I went back home to work. And, now, it's really like living in the country. Especially during the summer, when most of the population of Creekboro, the students, I mean, are gone."

Ana was curious. "Where do you want to build your own winery?" she asked.

"That's a good question," Miles replied. "I've done a little scouting around, but haven't settled on a place. I'm looking for the right mix - leaning toward the south, near a body of water. The climate I am looking for will need to be warmer, and more grape friendly."

"But, most of the wineries I know about here are north, toward the lake. Markko, Harpersfield, " Ana said.

Miles nodded. The traffic was breaking down as they got further from the city.

"The climate is warmer there, too. Because of the lake. But, as you said, most of the wineries are there. Too much competition - and lots of them are doing stuff like we do, entertainment, steak dinners, receptions, some even have their own rooms or bed and breakfasts. I'd like to find a place with lots of people - being close to the college has been good for us - but not a lot to do. And, the property itself has to be just right. A south facing slope - room to develop and grow, and I need to find land that is in an established wine growing region. Some place that already has the respect of the world, so that I don't need to spend years earning that respect. One of my plans for this winter is to continue the search. Once growing season is over, and we get the grafts covered, it's pretty much inside work, just monitoring and working with the wines themselves. " He looked at Ana. "I'd like your input. I hope we can do some looking together." 

They were getting close to the winery. Miles pulled the car off the highway. Seven forty-five. "That traffic cost us." They pulled up to the winery within minutes and got out of Ana's car.

Uncle Chester and Jimmy were waiting there sitting at a table. A couple of figures stood up on the deck. Miles waved. He stopped beside Ana, and picked up her hand. She looked up at him with a questioning gaze. No one seemed to notice the dog collar around Ana's neck, at least no one said anything. Ana supposed her coat covered it up.

"Everything's fine," said Miles in response to Ana's gaze. "I'm going to go up and talk to those guys," he gestured to the growing number of men on the deck. "I'll be right back." He gave Ana a quick kiss on the check. 

"Don't forget, I'm going after Jack this morning," he said to Jimmy.

"Why do you think I showed up this early? For my health?" Jimmy sighed. "Ah, the pressures of management."

"Do me a favor, Jimmy. You can also take my place when I meet with Todd later today."

"I don't think I'm ready to be promoted that far!" Jimmy laughed. Miles laughed too, and went around the corner toward the stairs.

Miles addressed the group. "Thanks for coming. This should be the almost next to last day this year. Plan for tomorrow and either Thursday or Friday, depending on the weather. Today, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, and some other odds and ends." He looked toward Chester. "Nebbiolo, for one individual."

"Don't think you'll get off that easy," Chester yelled back, good naturedly. Miles smiled at him. 

"As some of you know," Miles motioned toward Jimmy, "Master Beaumont here is in charge for a few hours while I run a necessary errand. You can count on him to be as fair and exacting a boss as I myself am."

Jimmy bowed to the crowd in general. They responded with smart aleck comments.

"If he's the boss, I quit!"

"We want a raise!"

"We want better lunches!"

At the last taunt, Jimmy looked up. "I just may be able to help you there," he said, his eyes sparkling. He looked at Miles and winked. "I just might be able to win over their stomachs, if not their hearts!"

Miles smiled back. "Let Jimmy know if you need anything. Remember, picker appreciation day will be this Sunday. Plenty of food and wine for all. Thanks for the beginning of the end of a great season!"

The group started to melt away, going toward the shed entrance to pick up their clippers. Ana, uncertain, started to follow the group, staying close to Uncle Chester. She didn't know what to expect from Miles. She was relieved when he ran after them, stopping the two of them.

"I have to get Jack." Chester was standing close. He was curious to see how they acted with each other.

"Will you be OK?" he asked. "You can come with me, if you want."

"Miles," she chided him. "I thought you needed me to do some work here."

"Well, I do," he was sheepish. "I really do need you to help here. But, I don't want to desert you."

"You'll be back. You're not deserting me."

Miles was aware that Chester was watching the exchange. He glanced at him as he said, "I'll miss you. How about a goodbye kiss?"

He didn't wait for her response. Nor did he look at Chester. This is the woman I love, damn it. Forget about everything else. Miles put his arms around her, pulling her close to him. He started to kiss her, and she responded.

After several minutes, Miles and Ana ended their embrace. 

"I do have to go, sweet. Old man Jack will be mad if I'm late."

"Be careful, Miles."

"I'll be fine. I'm driving Jimmy's wagon. Jack can't step up into the truck easily. But, I'll be back this afternoon. I'll see you then," he said, winking as he left. Ana went on toward the vines, with a feeling of happiness like she'd rarely known.

Miles drive to Mount Union hospital was fast and easy. Miles took the highway all the way, and drove just above the speed limit. He was in a hurry to pick Jack up and to get back. He arrived at Mount Union Hospital just before ten. He parked in the short term lot, then went inside. The receptionist, an efficient and attractive young woman with frosted blond hair said, "May I help you?"

"I'm here to pick up a patient. Jack Formby."

She nodded and pushed some buttons on the computer. "He's on his way down now."

"Great!" said Miles. He was glad to be able to get out quickly.

Within minutes, the elevator opened, and a wheelchair containing Jack emerged, pushed by a nurse. Jack spotted Miles almost immediately, and called out.

"You didn't bring your goddamned truck, I hope," he yelled.

"No, old man. I brought Jimmy's wagon. " He added. "How stupid do you think I am?"

Jack was pushed closer - almost up to where Miles was. "Where's your young lady?"

"At the winery. Picking grapes."

Jack laughed his raspy laugh that turned into a cough. "I wouldn't leave her alone, if I was you. She's a looker" he grinned a Miles, "as I once said."

"Jack, can you not ride me for a change? Look, I came all the way here to take you home. He's fine, I assume," Miles addressed the nurse pushing the wheelchair. 

She nodded. "Oh, yes. In fact, some of the nursing staff were complaining," she looked back at Jack, who was smiling broadly. "Mr. Formby has a couple of bumps and bruises, nothing more." She pushed the wheel chair around so the handles were close to Miles. "Mr. Formby is officially released. Goodbye, Mr. Formby," she said.

"Goodbye, beautiful," he responded. The nurse flushed and turned away. Miles pushed the wheel chair out the door. He parked it just outside the exit.

"I'll bring the car up, " he said. He left the parking lot after paying a fee, and pulled the car close to the door. Jack was still sitting there in the wheelchair, but his head was sagging. Asleep already, Miles thought. Leaving the car running, he got out and walked around toward Jack. Miles was surprised to see him looking alert, his eyes darting about. 

"Get a move on! We've got things to do!"

Miles frowned. "Jack, I have to get back. What things?"

"Help me get in the car," he said. Jack stood tentatively, then started toward the car on his own. Miles jumped in front of him and opened the door. Jack got inside and sat. He fastened his seatbelt. Miles got back into the driver's side. Jack looked as healthy as he could remember lately, he thought. Maybe getting out of the house, even the trip to the hospital had done him good.

"I'm taking you home, right," Miles said, to reiterate that he hadn't planned to spend the day driving Jack around. Just then, Miles cell phone rang.

"Hello," he said. A female voice on the other end. It took a minute to register. "Tessa. You're calling with some information. " Miles listened for a minute. "Wait. I need something to write on. Hold on, please." Miles looked up as Jack thrust a pad of paper and a pen toward him. "Thanks," Miles said, brusquely. Jack must be happy with this call, he thought.

"Go ahead. No, please spell that. Via Beliena 41, Aquileia, Italia. Phone number? 0431919700. The Ca' Tullio winery. A good hour plus east of Venice? He wrote down the series of digits. "Email, too, yes, I'm getting it. This is current?" He listened. "And they have producing vineyard acreage for lease? Great. Thank you so much." He clicked off. 

"You called the girl?" asked Jack.

"No, in fact, it was the strangest thing." Miles was looking closely at Jack. "We ran into her yesterday after leaving your place." Miles was thoughtful. "Isn't it the strangest coincidence, me meeting up with Tessa? And, of course, you knew how to get in touch with her. I couldn't believe that she recognized me - I barely recognized her, but I know that I don't look anything like I did years ago."

"Call it luck, then, Miles. Call it fate, providence, whatever."

"Jack, you old..."

"Miles. Please don't hurt the feelings of a dying man."

"I don't believe you're dying. And, I can't believe that you set me up like that. How could you?"

"Miles, Miles. I had a fear that you wouldn't actually follow through and make the call. I did tell you everything I knew, even that she was living close. I just ....nudged you a little. Nudged you along, if you like..." 

"OK, Jack," Miles was resigned. "Where do you want me to drive you? 



In the Vineyard Ch. 13



"Where do you want me to take you, Jack?" Miles asked as he drove Jack away from the hospital.

Jack looked over at Miles, and it was a determined look that Miles was not familiar with. "As for where we're going, and where we're driving too, we have several stops. It depends on how things develop. First, Miles, we need to stop at my apartment. There is some paperwork there that we need to look at."

The distance from the hospital was short, and in a few minutes Miles was pulling Jimmy's wagon into the parking lot. "Let's go in," Jack said, "I have some of the wine you brought me, left over from yesterday. I'll need it, and you may too".

Miles helped Jack out of the wagon, and helped him open his apartment door. He could not remember Jack being this somber, ever. Once inside Jack's apartment, sitting on the middle of the kitchen table, Miles saw a thick stack of legal papers. From the volume of the documents, Miles guessed that something was in the works. He wondered if yesterday's meetings produced a change.

"Jack," said Miles, "what did you do, sell the place?"

"Sit down, Miles" Jack said as he himself sat down.

"Sell it? In a manner of speaking, yes, but it's more like a transfer of shares from one company to another. I'm out, they're in, and this way we avoid tying the winery up in my probate estate."

"Are there new owners?"

"It's another corporation, and the main promoter is my son Todd with a new group of investors. Brandon will become the front man at the winery, like you suggested, but as for the actual shareholders, I don't know. But what I do know is that effective today, the new company is in charge. Miles, other than my sons and those directly involved, you are the first to know".

"It's what I expected," Miles responded. "I'm not surprised."

"You will be," Jack said. "Maybe we should rest on a glass of wine and think about this. It's going to be harder than you think".

At the same time, Ana was partnered with Uncle Chester, picking Cabernet Franc at the winery. She'd been clipping grapes, and filling lugs, for the couple of hours since Miles had left. And it was a couple of hours since her last sip of coffee, and she needed...a break.

"Chester, I need a short breather. I'll take five minutes, if it's ok with you. There are some things I need to move into Miles' place that are in my car. I'll be right back."

Ana walked to her car and removed the duffle bag full of her belongings that she planned on leaving with Miles. She walked across to Miles' living quarters. Searching through her purse, she found her key. When she put the key in the slot, she was surprised to find that it wouldn't work. That's odd, Ana thought. I used it yesterday. I know it works. Ana tried the key again. No luck. Confused, Ana put her things back in her car, and used the restroom in the winery.

Miles grabbed two glasses, the same glasses he had washed the day before with Ana, and an open bottle of late harvest Seyval. After pouring Jack and himself a glass, he sat back down.

"The wine is very sweet," Jack said as he sipped.

"Yeah, nice in the morning, when your taste buds are fresh".

"There's more here than a sale agreement," Jack said. "In that stack of papers, as part of the 'arrangement', there is a proposed injunction. And Miles, the injunction is against you. If you offer any opposition to the sale, a temporary injunction will be filed, and it will be filed this morning. One way or another, you are barred from the winery, and if you return there, you will be arrested."

"What?" Miles screamed. "Christ, every vine there has my blood on it. Barred from the winery? That's ridiculous! And what about my contract? You can't do this to me!"

"That's the whole point, Miles. I am doing something for you, and it will prevent others from doing something to you. You are resigning your position at the winery, effective today, and you are waiving any additional compensation. In exchange for your resignation, you will be allowed to retain $25,000.00 of the money you've taken from the cash sales at the winery. And, more importantly, no criminal charges will be filed. That's the deal".

"Jack, criminal charges? What are you talking about?....I didn't..."

"Miles, wise up. When Todd first had his suspicions, he came to me about it. I was hurt, but I got over it. You have your dream of your own winery, you are a great winemaker, and you've made my winery what it is today. But buying even a small winery would cost you a fortune. There is no way you could have ever saved enough, not from what I've paid you. And with Todd and Brandon around, no way for you to stay on after I am gone. The steak sales, the cash money, it was dangled under your nose and you succumbed to the temptation. You went for the bait, so to speak. I am sure you hoped that I would never find out, but I did. I accept it, don't lie about it." Jack went on.

"But Miles, Todd's accusations, that wasn't enough for me. I questioned Todd for proof. He was accusing you of theft, of stealing. Apparently without you ever realizing it, they installed tiny video cameras in the supply room, near the cash registers, in your office, hell, there are three in your living quarters! Motion detectors activate each camera. There is very little that you have done, over the past two years, that hasn't been recorded on film."

"I can't believe this...I never..."

"Believe this, Miles, I can tell you the color of underwear your new friend Ana wore on Saturday night. These cameras even have night vision. Denials will do you no good. $25,000.00 is a lot to be allowed to keep, it's generous under the circumstances. You'll loose that too if criminal charges are filed."

Miles was completely blindsided. He felt sick to his stomach.

"Jack, what am I going to do?"

"Miles, I have had my lawyers study the agreements, in confidence. They clearly believe that your resignation is in the best interests of all concerned. We don't want an embezzlement scandal made public, and you don't want your name involved with that type of activity again. So please, Miles, sign the papers, sign the related documents, and let's get on with the rest of our business."

"What are the 'related' documents?

"Mostly forms, Powers of Attorney, agreements that say you'll cooperate, that you'll disclose the location of the lost funds. Not that it's necessary. Your accounts, even the secret ones in your mother's name, have already been frozen."

"Why can't I go back to the winery, Jack? We have two more days of picking. I want to finish the harvest. My things are there, my clothes, my personal stuff. What happens to that? And who will be the winemaker?"

"Miles, all the risk of bringing the harvest in, of making the wine, it falls on the new owners. It's not my business, nor is it yours. After the living quarters have been scoured and searched, your personal items will be set aside and sent to you."

Miles remained in shock. 

"We can do this, Miles, without anyone knowing. The terms of your resignation will be kept secret, it's in the agreement. We'll simply say the new owners wanted a new winemaker, and that you've moved on, chasing your dream." 

"Won't that waste this year's crop? Who'll press the reds, or work the fermentation?"

"They have someone in mind, until a new winemaker is hired. Dave Ricksteiner, from Willow Hill, he lost his whole crop to frost this year, he's volunteered to oversee the interim takeover. Things will be fine, Dave's an excellent winemaker. After that, there's talk of field grafting most of the hybrids into vinifera. If they do that, there won't be much of a crop for two years".

Miles cared for his vines and his grapes like they were his children. This was devastating. He buried his face in his hands.

"Face it Miles, you've peaked here at what you can do with our grapes and with this climate. You need to move forward with your career, and you should be working with the world's best winemakers. You've already learned all that you can learn here."

Jack took a heavy swallow of the sweet Seyval. His mouth was dry from so much talking. He stood up and slowly walked to his bedroom, and after a few moments, he returned. He had an envelope in his hand, and he placed it on the table.

"This is your airline ticket and boarding pass. Your flight leaves Cincinnati at 7:30 tonight, arrives in Paris at 8:00 tomorrow, their time. You'll then need to catch a connecting Air France flight to Venice, and you'll have an hour to cross over from the international flight section to the EU departure gates. That means, basically, don't drink too much on the plane or you'll be disoriented when you land. The Paris airport is huge. To get to the EU gates, you have to cross the street, or go around, or go underground, and that can be difficult for a stranger at Charles De Gaulle."

"Jack, you're coming at me too fast. You expect me to be in Europe tomorrow morning? And in Venice tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yes, Miles, I do."

"I feel like my whole world is evaporating."

"It's not that way, Miles, not that way at all. When my company was sold, they bought all my shares. I am now a rich man, a rich man who is near death. And my two sons will still own the winery, it will be leased to the new corporation. You will be in Italy, first, to see your wife Mary. Then I expect that you will be looking at small vineyards, as my agent, to either buy or lease vineyard acreage. My lawyers have set up a trust fund and a new corporation that will survive my death. We have several good prospects lined up, small wineries with leasing options for all the acres of Cab Franc that you would ever want or need. Or who knows? You may end up simply buying grapes and being a full time winemaker. You could avoid the risks of farming that way. Miles, I want you to view this as the opportunity you've been waiting for. And I want to make your dream come true."

"But why Italy, and where's this place where I am to call Mary? Aquileia? I've never heard of it."

"Aquileia is a couple of hours east of Venice, off the Autostrada. The drive is easy, but don't drive in Italy until you get used to their highways. Aquileia's also only minutes away from the topless beaches at Grada", Jack said with a grin. "The beaches are a huge tourist draw. It's the most northerly point of the Mediterranean. You'll have plenty of wine drinking customers.

"That DOC wine region extends to the sea. You're to meet a winemaker there, at his estate, who has accommodations for you and your wife Mary. She's staying there now. Call her from Paris when you touch down, she plans on picking you up at the Venice airport. His wine estate is outside of Aquileia, but on the main road. There are incredible Roman ruins, totally mind boggling, in Aquileia that will astound you."

This all sounded like a pep talk to Miles. Was Jack telling the truth, or was this a sales pitch to get him to leave?

"Miles," Jack said, "if the business of wine was a level playing field, and all the hype was dismissed, the Friuli region of Italy would be recognized as producing the best Cab Franc and some of the best Merlot in the world. They've done it for centuries, long before California. Every element is there. The world's largest grapevine nursery - thirty five million vines a year - is located nearby at Rauscedo. It's all geography. The region has a gentle southerly slope toward the Adriatic Sea. Water from the Alps drains in that direction, and then flows in underground streams, until the water reaches the lagoons that stretch from Venice to Grada. That underground water table is one reason for the top quality vineyards in the area. Another reason is climate. Imagine, Miles, no black rot, no mildews, no insects, and no risk of frost damage. And the Friuli winemakers experiment. They are not bound to what Americans think of as traditional Italian grapes. Italy - and this particular part of Italy - is the place for the next generation of great winemakers, and I want you to be there. Miles, you could become a star."

Wow, thought Miles. Jack has obviously worked this through. Miles could feel his dream coming into bloom, although he was still embarrassed for his actions.

"I am sorry Jack. There is no explanation to justify what I have done. But I had my issues with Todd, and maybe it's best that those issues are over now. Looking back, you're right, I had peaked here years ago. It was frustrating building things up, knowing that I would have nothing in the end. Some days I spent more time hustling women than I did with the winery. Now, you're putting a whole new world at my feet. It's a change I need. Thanks for the...nudge."

Miles spent the next twenty minutes signing more forms than he cared to remember. He signed his resignation, he signed releases, he signed and he signed. When Miles finished, Jack produced a $25,000.00 certified check, made payable to Michael D. Long. And he had more.

"Here's your passport, Miles. Your mother sent it to me. You may want to trim up, so that there is some resemblance to the photo."

"We need to keep going," Jack said. "We'll hit Ana's condo next- I know you have a key - where you can pick up your things. Yes, Miles, the traveling bags you packed last night. The film shows you packing. What you don't have, you can buy in Italy. I am giving you a $5,000.00 prepaid Visa card, which should cover your expenses for the entire trip. Assuming, that is, that you do return".

Oddly, Miles felt a huge sense of relief. The conflicts with Todd, his uncertain future at the winery, Jack's plan - he had resolved everything. Yes, he had been looking for a way out for years, and now the door was open. Italy? And with money in his pocket? As Miles let it all sink in, he couldn't believe it. Didn't believe it. He stared at the check, folded it in half, then he placed it in his shirt pocket. He put the Visa card in his wallet. With the money his wife Mary had stashed in Europe, they could start a new life.

Miles led Jack back to Jimmy's wagon, he helped him inside, helped him get comfortable in the seat. As Miles backed the wagon out, Jack sifted through the legal papers.

"Miles, get your cell phone out. Call this number: 614. 221. 0888. It's a law office. When someone answers, give your phone to me." 

Miles dialed the number and someone did answer, and he turned the phone over to Jack.

"Jack Formby here. Connect me to Attorney Richard Kinney, please."

"Mr. Kinney? Mr. Long has signed everything, and I have delivered his check to him. The deal is closed. The winery now belongs to your clients. Mr. Long will not be returning to the premises."

"I understand. Thanks for your efforts." Jack handed the phone back to Miles, who was in awe of the developments.

"Are you all right, Miles? Can you drive?"

"I'm fine, Jack. We'll be at Ana's condo in a few minutes. I could use a break, but on the other hand, this puzzle is exciting me. I've never been to Europe, and now I am leaving in a few hours. There are so many things I've heard about it, about France, about Italy, and I am flying there tonight. It's amazing."

Miles pulled into the space in front of Ana's condo. He didn't hesitate for a second about being watched or seen, about whether Greg Romano was overlooking his moves. Frankly, Miles didn't care one way or another about Greg Romano, didn't care about whether Ana and Greg got back together after he was gone. Greg had messed with him - Miles was sure that it was Greg behind the investigation - and he had the pleasure of sleeping with, and running, Romano's wife. It balanced out, Miles thought.

Miles entered Ana's condo through the front door. Same key, both doors, he figured right. In a jiff, he had gathered his clothes, which were still packed. He looked around, thinking of grabbing a souvenir, something to remember Ana by. What was the point, Miles thought? What difference does it make? Miles took the key off of his chain, tossed it on the floor, locked the door from behind, and exited through the same door he entered. 

"Can we stop at the winery, Jack?"

"No. Absolutely not. It could blow everything, and you wouldn't make the Cincinnati airport in Covington Kentucky. There will be rush hour traffic, you can't take chances."

"Jack, I need to see Ana. She has a big thing about saying goodbye face to face. I'll stay in the wagon, if that makes a difference."

"Call her cell and tell her to meet you outside the winery entrance. That's as close as you can come."

Miles drove toward the winery. For several minutes, Jack was quiet. And he seemed very tired. It was as if Jack was suffering, or under medication. Miles drove on, dialing Ana's cell phone number as he drove. 

Ana picked up her singing cell phone. Earlier, she had changed the ringer to play Sinatra's version of 'Send in the Clowns'. She loved the song and enjoyed listening to a few bars before answering. Ana recognized Miles' cell number, and answered.

"Miles? Where are you?"

"I am still with Jack, Ana. There have been some developments. Will you please take a break and meet me at the Tim Horton's restaurant, the one at the intersection near the winery?"

"Why don't you come here? The pickers have been waiting on you, we are about ready to start lunch. Jimmy has put out a feast."

"Well...I need to drive Jack to more appointments. If I show up for lunch, I'll drink too much and never leave. Please Ana, Jack and I have a lot of stops to make today, places to go. Meet me in fifteen minutes, ok?"

"Miles, my key wouldn't work. The same key that we used last night on your door, it won't work. Something is wrong with the lock, I think. But I'll be there in fifteen. Be careful driving."

"You too."

As Miles ended his cell phone call, he was already at Tim Horton's. He knew that he would need an extra few minutes to collect his thoughts. What could he say to her? That he was leaving that night for Europe? And how much information would it take before Ana realized that Miles was exactly as Greg Romano said he was. While still lost in thought, Ana's yellow car pulled up beside them, on Jack's side.

As Ana stepped out from her car, she noticed Miles' bags in the back of the wagon, the same bags that she had helped him store only hours before at her condo. And she noticed Jack flipping through a pile of legal papers. Miles got out too and walked up to her. Face to face.

"Ana, we need to talk. Let's grab a coffee and...."

"I think so too Miles. You go first. What's going on? Why are your bags in the wagon? What are all those papers Jack has?"

"The winery has been sold, Ana. I have been replaced. That's the short of it. The long of it is that Todd has taken over, taken over completely. I'm out. Can't go back. But it's not all bad. Surprisingly, they have bought out my contract and have given me a great severance package. The package includes a settlement perk - a two week, all expense paid trip to Europe. That's why I retrieved my bags from your place. My plane leaves from Cincinnati tonight. I'll be in Paris about the time the late show comes on here."

"Miles, is that the whole story? Is that why my key wouldn't work? Am I out too?"

"Ana, this has nothing to do with you, not directly at least. My guess is that the new owners would welcome your help, but I don't know. Ana, this changeover is an opportunity for me, a once in a lifetime opportunity. I'll be looking at vineyards, and at wine grape supply and demand at the height of harvest season. Jack has already booked appointments for me at wineries that he is interested in partnering with."

"You're leaving me Miles. I can feel it, I can read it in your face. You're flying to Italy to be with your wife Em. She's probably already established herself there, probably can speak Italian. And, obviously, you have money now. You don't need me anymore."




In the Vineyard Ch. 13



Miles stared back, but he had no quick response.

"Oh Miles, I am so afraid. You're leaving behind the love we found, and when you're gone you'll forget about me. We had plans, Miles, future plans. Miles, I don't even have a job! My severance runs out in November. I have no money. You were my solution. I thought we'd be together, together forever." Ana started crying.

"Ana, be realistic. Think about it. This is Monday morning. We've only been an involved couple since Friday night. I may have said that I love you, but I haven't promised you anything. I'm not going to forget about you, not in two weeks. But Ana, I don't know the future either. Yes, I am going to see my wife. I have no idea what will happen then. It's a fact that I once loved her, I loved Em with all my heart. And I have been in denial of that emotion since we split up. People say that true love will stand the test of time, even separation. Ana, if our love is true, it will survive this challenge. All we can do is wait and see."

"Wait and see? That's bullshit, Miles! You'll be in Italy, with your beautiful wife, touring wineries and having the time of your life. Yeah. I'm supposed to wait, while you see."

"I am sorry Ana, I didn't plan on hurting you. But I signed the agreement. I can't go back to Creek Valley, I can't make wine there ever again. What would I do if I stayed here? I don't even have a place to live. No, Ana, I won't blow this opportunity. No way. I'll be gone in a few hours, and that's the way it is. And"...Miles looked directly into Ana's eyes, "I am not asking you to 'wait' for me. You can do as you please. I've left your condo key at your place. This will be a clean break. When I return, I'll try to get together with you, if that's in the stars for us. If not, live with it. But Ana, it was a mistake for you to depend on me, emotionally or financially. I could never support you, you should know that. My advice, my best advice, is that you stop the charade and find a job."

Ana looked away from Miles, she had heard enough. What an ass hole, she thought. All the accusations, all the lies Miles told her, they began to sink in. He is truly disgusting, Ana said to herself, why did I lower myself so? Only a week before she had laughed at Greg Romano's marriage proposal. What had she become in that week? Then Ana remembered last night, when Miles sexually abused her. She told Miles that she was his 'slut'. It was true. She'd fallen to that level. Control yourself, Ana thought, it's over. Be glad it's over.

She had already taken Miles' blue dog collar off, she had placed it in the pocket of her work coat. It itched, Ana couldn't pick with it on. She pulled it from her pocket and tossed it at Miles' feet. Looking hard at Miles, she spoke.

"I am going back to the winery. Jimmy has promised us - Uncle Chester and me - 80 pounds of Nebbiolo, if we run the crusher-destemmer. Looks like I'll be learning wine making from him." 

"Goodbye Miles. Travel well. Arividerche."

Ana got into her car, backed out, and drove away. Once out of sight, Ana pulled her car over and she broke down sobbing. She pounded her fists on the dashboard. She wept. How could I have been so stupid, Ana thought. Why didn't I listen to the warnings? What possessed me to ignore the signs, to ignore Miles' obvious lies? 

Miles got back in the wagon with Jack. He didn't care about the dog collar, he left it in the parking lot. There was no future with that bitch, anyway, Miles thought. They had nothing in common, other than sex. Ana was another lust driven quickie relationship. Another fire that burned hot, so hot, and burned out so soon.

"Where to now, Jack?"

"Take a right turn up here. We're picking up Tessa. She's agreed to drive you to the Cincinnati airport. Everyone else is tied up at the winery. You can drop me at my apartment on the way to the interstate, I don't feel healthy enough for the trip. Tessa claims she knows her way to Covington, and that she's been there several times before on trips to see her mother. She can drive Jimmy's wagon back here, after she helps check you into the international flight section. Anymore, only those flying overseas are allowed in that section of the airport. And worse, you have to be there two hours early, and the bar Chardonnay is shit."

Ana composed herself as she drove back to the winery. It was a hard emotional fall from the ecstasy she had been feeling the past three days. She parked her car and tried to act as if nothing had happened. Turning the make up mirror on the visor open, Ana made sure that there were no signs of tears. Then she noticed a limousine parked in front of the winery's main door. What's that all about, Ana thought.

When Ana rounded the corner to where Jimmy had prepared lunch, the pickers had gathered together. All the winery staff, even though it was a Monday, were gathered there too. Todd was addressing the crowd, as if he was making a speech. A dressed up group of people were standing with Todd, most of whom she didn't recognize. But one she did recognize - though he didn't notice her slip into the back of the crowd - it was Greg Romano.

"Friends," Todd said to the group, "I am announcing today that the winery has new ownership. My father has retired, and a new corporation has purchased the winery. And friends, there will be major changes in the operation of this enterprise."

"From now on," Todd went on, " pickers will be paid for their efforts. We no longer will be trading juice and grapes for picking here. We will pay minimum wage, for a four hour day, from 8:00 till 12:00. Permanent winery staff will do the crushing and pressing of the grapes, starting today."

The older pickers looked at Todd with anger and disgust. No one liked him anyway, what was he trying to pull? Some had picked there for years, picking the same vines year after year, and some had pruned the vines in the spring for nothing. And most had made their own wine from their pickings. What were they to do now? Buy grapes? 

"Where's Miles?" Jimmy shouted out.

"Miles has left us," Todd responded. "He has accepted a buy out and is off to join his wife in Italy".

"No way", said Jimmy, "Miles wouldn't do that."

"Jack, my father, is with Miles now. Miles is on his way to the Cincinnati airport as we speak. Miles is gone."

"Friends, I know these changes are hard to accept. But those of us who know business also know that this winery must be run as a business, not as an ongoing party. Remember Wilbur? He was picking here three years ago, got drunk at lunch, and caused a fatal accident while driving home. We will not run that risk anymore."

Uncle Chester spoke up. " I don't give a hoot about new ownership or corporate policies. When I walked into the vines this morning, I expected grapes for my work. Each one of us did. That's been the 'consideration', up to this moment, and we've already performed. We'll take our grapes. And if you won't allow that, well...Romano there knows that this winery has been violating every labor law in existence, and most of the liquor control laws too."

"Right!" shouted Tom, a retired dentist, "I'll drink to that!". Tom then raised a glass of his homemade blueberry wine, which, by law, was not allowed on the winery premises.

"Ok, folks, ok. You can have your grapes for today. As you say, Chester, when you picked, you expected grapes, and I agree with that. It's fair. So let's show some good faith to the new owners. We don't want to scare them away."

" We have plans. I'll be around, myself," Todd went on, "and Brandon will become the director for steak dinners and entertainment. Dave Ricksteiner will be interim winemaker - you guys know Dave - and you might know that he has always paid his pickers. Now, the overall operations manager of this winery, and let me introduce her to you," Todd pretended a little drum roll on the table, "is Mary Von Millhon. Mary is the new CEO of the company, she will be in charge."

Ana looked across at a tall statuesque blond. She was wearing a dark formal dress, and was standing next to her ex husband Greg. She looks like a young Candace Bergman, Ana thought. Dark dress, plain white pearls, dark heals, expensive hose. Greg actually had his arm around her waste, and moved her forward to say a few words.

"Staff...volunteers... you have given so much to this winery and I won't let you down. I thank you for being here today and for all your help over the years. Of course you can have your grapes for today, and if you continue to help pick we can finish out this harvest on the same basis if you like." She went on as Ana watched.

"I realize that you people don't know me. You probably all think that my father Dr. Von Millhon bought this place for me. Well," she said with a smile, "is that so bad? I have a degree in agronomy and plant science from Ohio State. I've worked two seasons at Valhalla Vineyards in Virginia, and I am getting my masters online from Davis, with a focus on viticultural diseases. Operating this winery will be a learning process, I know. So, let's start my learning process with a sip of that blueberry wine, ok Tom!"

With that said, the new owner turned to Greg and put a big kiss on his lips. They hugged like it was their wedding day. Then they walked among the pickers, shaking hands, making introductions and tasting the different homemade wines that had been brought to the lunch table.

Ana slipped back around the corner, avoiding Greg. How long had this been going on, she wondered? Was this woman the 'whole package' that Greg had spoken about? And what would her mother think, if Greg married this woman, and they raised a family.

Miles and Jack continued on to where Tessa lived with hers. "Call Tessa on your cell phone, Miles. Her number should show as a received call. Get some directions to her place."

That was an easy thing for Miles to do. Within a few seconds, he had Tessa on the phone.

"Before Mount Union...the first right...white house on the corner...new red Ford truck outside...we'll be there in a minute."

And they were. When Miles and Jack pulled up, Tessa was at the door dressed in a house robe with worn slippers. She walked up to Jimmy's wagon and said hello.

"Where's your baby?" Miles asked.

"She's taken care of Davie. She's old enough to sleep through the night, nearly nine months. Mys will watch her today. But this...is this a station wagon? Hey, it would make a lot more sense if we drove to Cincy in my husband's pick up. It has air, CD, it's plush, and it will do a lot better on gasoline than this old rig. I don't want to be stranded out there."

"Makes sense to me", Jack interjected. "I can drive Jimmy's wagon back to the winery all right. Someone, maybe one of my sons, can take me home."

"Davie, toss your things into the bed while I change, " Tessa added. "I'll be just a minute or two."

Miles looked over at the man who had given him so much. "Jack...I, I don't want this to be the last time I see you. No matter what I find in Italy, no matter how good things are, I'll be coming back in a couple of weeks. Before I make any decisions, I'll be back to see you, and to see my mother. You have my word on it - just don't die on me, ok?"

"Your mother has already warned me not to die, so if she's in control of my future, I'll be here. Now get going, you've got a plane to catch, and a three hour dive to get there."

Miles stepped out of the wagon, leaving the keys in the ignition. As the safety alarm beeped, he removed his bags from the wagon and put them in the pick up bed. The he helped Jack get out and walk around to the driver's side. He helped him in, and with the door still open he offered him his hand. Jack reached past his hand and pulled him close. They embraced each other.

"It will be only up from here", Jack said.

"Thank you, Jack. I owe you my life." Miles shut the door, stepped back and watched as Jack turned the engine on the old wagon. He backed out, waived, and drove away.

" Ready to go, Davie?" Miles turned to see Tessa strolling out to the truck. "Things in the back? All aboard!"

Tessa had changed, that was certain. She had on a short blue mini, heels, and a white silk blouse covered by a blue jacket. Miles stared as they each got in the truck. Tessa had become a beautiful woman. She responded to his stares.

"Listen Davie, I don't get out much. And airports can be fun. You know that I like to look my best. I think my body's better after the baby..."

"Just drive, Tessa. Or do you want me to? You will have to make the return trip alone."

"All right, but we can't switch yet. I told my husband that I would do the driving. We can switch down at the corner." Miles watched Tessa as she backed the truck out, he watched her work the stick shift, pumping the clutch and throwing the lever. They reached the corner and Tessa put the truck in neutral, then slid across, as Miles walked around and took the driver's seat. Cincinnati was a ways off, but the interstate was fast and flat. In no time Miles and Tessa were cruising at the speed limit. An hour passed and they hadn't as much as said another word.

Then Tessa slid herself back so that she was sitting next to Miles. "Do you like me next to you?" she said.

"Sure, why not."

"Well, Davie, if I'm next to you I can.." Tessa put her left arm around Miles' back, leaned over, and pressed her breasts against his right arm.

"Still the tease, Tessa. If you want to tease me, great. But I do need to control this vehicle."

"That sounds like fun. I'll stay just shy of your point of out of control." Tessa then slid back, and rested her shoulders against the passenger door. She pulled her legs up onto the middle of the seat. Next she lifted her knees up and spread her legs open.

"Is this too much teasing," Tessa whispered, "for you to keep your eyes on the road"?

Miles took a glance across the cab. Tessa's mini had ridden up, all the way up, her legs were open and she had no panties on. And she was completely shaved.

"That's right, Davie. They shaved me when I gave birth, and I came to like it. I am a lot more sensitive...without the hair...in the way. Do you like it?"

"Yes, very much. Stay back like that, relax, and let me look at you and let me drive. We can reach a happy medium, ok? We still have a half hour to Cincy, and you'll need to direct me to the Covington airport."

"Not teasing you enough, Davie? I can keep trying, can't I?". Tessa removed her jacket and placed it on the dashboard. Next came her silk blouse, and her blue bra. Then she put her jacket back on, leaving the front open, exposing her boobs to Miles. She pulled her knees back up, so that to other drivers, they saw nothing, but to Miles, he saw everything.

"Thanks, Tessa. Thanks for the ...display. You are beautiful. I can drive this way as long as you can sit that way. Better than the billboards."

Miles noticed that they were passing King's Island. He knew that Cincinnati was close, and that the traffic would be heavy. Tessa was really something, Miles thought. What a great body. There are a lot of motels near the highway, motel parking lots that will be empty on a Monday afternoon. Miles let his mind wonder. He cast another glance at Tessa, who was spread wide and smiling.

"Slide back over here, Tessa."

"Whee. Sure Davie. What do you have in mind?"

"I could keep my eyes on the road" Miles said, "while you rub me a little bit."

Tessa reached her right hand down and began to unfasten Miles' jeans. She got on the floor of the pick up and, as Miles lifted his fanny, she tugged his jeans and underwear down enough to expose him. Within an instant Tessa had Miles in her mouth, bobbing up and down in the front seat of her own husband's pick up truck.

"That's great, Tessa. Oh, Tess. I have missed your mouth on me, and your mother's mouth too. Maybe I'll have her suck me first thing after I arrive in Venice".

Tessa looked up at Miles. "Get off the damn road, Davie. I want you inside of me, and not just in my mouth. You were my first lover. A woman always either loves, or hates, her first lover. And I don't hate you, not today at least."

Miles took the next exit and saw a deserted Red Roof Inn. He drove the truck around the back, and stopped where they were out of sight of the highway and of the motel's office.

"Let's try this. Stretch out and lay on your back, Davie."

Miles swung his legs past Tessa and across the bench seat of the truck. The cab was almost wide enough to be comfortable. 

"Slide down further, and put your knees up. Get in the middle, past the steering wheel."

Tessa climbed over Miles, past his shoulders, and positioned herself just over Miles' face. She leaned back and dropped her shaved vagina onto Miles' mouth.

"Your turn, Davie. I've missed your mouth too. That's it. Do a good job cleaning me up. Oh it feels so good!"

Tessa then backed down, and Miles slid up. She got one leg beside him, and lowered herself onto his swollen penis. Tessa slipped him in easily, and began rolling and rocking her hips as Miles moaned in satisfaction. She leaned down and kissed him, and as their tongues engaged, she softly placed her hand over Miles' shirt pocket. Miles eyes were closed as Tessa sucked his tongue and pumped him from above. With the skill of a trained pick pocket, Tessa took control over Miles' check. He didn't notice at all. With their tongues still dancing, Tessa slipped the check into a secret slash on the inside of her miniskirt.

"Oh you feel so good inside me Davie! So big, and so good. But we have to stop, and stop now, you have a plane to catch. Come on, get back on the highway. Don't worry, I'll suck you as you drive, at least until you climax."

Miles swung back into the driver's position, and Tessa, true to her word, took his penis back into her mouth. They crossed Cincinnati that way - with an occasional semi honking its horn - and with Tessa mumbling directions to follow the airport signs. When the sounds of the aircraft taking off grew loud and close, Tessa tickled Miles testicles, and he climaxed in her mouth. She swallowed, and she helped him get his pants back up. Tessa got up, buttoned her jacket, pulled her skirt down and sat in the seat as they entered the airport grounds. 

"Take the direction to international flights. Go right. No, left. Damn it, Davie, listen to me. You only have a few minutes to make the two hour check in cut off time. Pull up to the Delta sign there on the right. Stop the truck."

Tessa jumped out of the truck and grabbed Miles' baggage. "Here", she said. "Leave the keys in."

Miles took his bags from her. "Are you coming in?"

"No, this is a tow away, you don't have time. Better run, Davie, you don't want to get bumped!"

Miles leaned forward and kissed Tessa, briefly.

"Thanks for the...a... ride", Miles said with a grin. It was good to be with you again. I'll let your mother know that you've helped me." 

"Goodbye, Davie. Give my mom all my love, and give her all yours too. See you soon! Miles turned and walked into the airport. 

With tires screeching Tessa pulled away from the drop off ramp. Davie was actually still pretty good, Tessa thought. What she said about loving him, or hating him, was true. Sometimes she felt each emotion about Davie. Lifting the check was easy, once she got control over him. He couldn't resist her, he never could. She knew that her job would be complete when she returned the check to Jack. Davie wasn't going to get a reward, not from Jack, for stealing.

"Ana, wait." It was Greg's voice and he was calling out to her. "I didn't know you were here, didn't see your car. But Chester saw you. Please, come here, let me introduce you to my friend."

"Mary, this is my former spouse, Ana Palmer. Ana, this is Mary Von Millhon, who, as you must have heard, is the new owner of the corporation that will run this winery."




In the Vineyard Ch. 13



Mary extended her hand to Ana and Ana shook it. "Pleased to meet you," Ana said, though she was not really pleased, not at all.

"Call me Mary M, if you like. Wherever I go, there are too many Marys". Then she took a hard awakening look at Ana.

"I believe I know you...Ana Palmer...yes, you were a patient at the Von Millhon Clinic, weren't you? While I was working there as a student intern. It was, maybe, ten years ago, when your hair was bleached blond. I recognize you now. You had slipped and fallen on ice, and you crushed your ankle. Doctor Jud referred you to surgery. We talked a lot, you and I. Don't you remember?"

"Not really," Ana responded, although she did recognize the woman and remembered the incident. Ana wasn't going to let some doctor's daughter act so superior.

"Sure you do. It was you. You were living with... an actor, who was broke, or a man who wanted to be an actor, and you had no health insurance. Your little car had been repossessed, and you couldn't work. Ana, you would go on and on about your troubles, pouring your heart out to me. That must have been before you met Greg." 

"You must be mistaken", Ana said.

"No I'm not. And if you take off your right boot, there's a nasty scar from the ankle surgery. I never forget a face, especially one of our patient's."

"Whoa," Greg interjected. "It's not important. I know that Ana fractured her ankle, long ago, I've seen the scar. Maybe the painkillers dulled her memory of your conversations."

But Greg didn't know that Ana had lived with another man before they had married. He would have liked to ask Ana about it, but Greg figured that it's all water under the bridge now. Even an unemployed actor was better than "Miles', even though that's exactly what Miles was - an actor.

Without another word, Ana turned and walked away. Greg watched her get into her car, and he watched her drive off from the winery, leaving him with his new love interest. He felt a tug on his heart. Greg had suffered when he realized that Ana was screwing Miles, and that she was doing it to hurt him. Ana succeeded, she did hurt him. Well, Greg thought, she won't hurt me anymore. For the first time in years, Greg felt free of Ana.

"What did you ever see in her?" Mary asked.

"Well...she's attractive, intelligent..."

"Attractive? What do you think your kids would look like? The woman has died hair, fake boobs, a nose job and straightened teeth."

"Really?"

"Greg, she's also openly deceitful, and a liar. I'll bet that she cheated on you throughout your marriage, and when you start comparing notes, you'll realize it. I wouldn't trust her with money for the newspaper. I mean, why would she lie to me? I could go to the clinic today and pull her entire file, she knows that. Painkillers, my ass. I met with that woman at least ten times. She was a patient for years, and there's more in her file than you ever want to know. But what's the point. If she thinks that she has something to hide from you, Greg, well forget all about it. You married her. You're divorced. What she is or isn't doesn't matter anymore. We have our own plans now, and they certainly don't include Ana Palmer."

"Hey, I'll drink to that, but I prefer Champaign. Any Champaign over there?"

"Sure is," Jimmy shouted back, and he brought over two flutes and a bottle of Moet Chandon. After pouring the flutes, he tapped the top with a spoon to get attention. 

"A toast to you Mary, and a toast to trouble free tomorrows!"

"Great. Thank you. Thank you all very much. I feel at home here already."

Mary leaned over and whispered. "Greg, not to be crude, but that Ana woman needs a bath, needs one right away. She smells like she spent last night in a brothel."