Hamptons Surprise, page 11
“Then I’ll get more delivered tomorrow,” Ruthie said. At this rate, she’d be on first name terms with the delivery person.
“Mom doesn’t like to use the delivery service for that kind of shopping. She wants to choose everything herself,” Keegan said.
“Sounds about right,” Ruthie muttered.
Keegan disappeared and Ruthie glanced at the book on Amelia’s lap—The Five People You Meet in Heaven. “Is this for school?”
“Yes, I hate it.”
“It doesn’t seem particularly offensive. What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s boring. I don’t want to read about a bunch of old white men.”
Ruthie laughed. “Welcome to English literature.”
“I don’t connect with the material,” she continued, prompting more laughter from Ruthie.
“When I was in school, it was basically Shakespeare and Dickens.” That was what she remembered anyway. High school seemed a very long time ago.
“Keegan got to read Romeo and Juliet,” Amelia said. “He says it’s actually meant to be a cautionary tale.”
“Is that so?” Ruthie considered his perspective. “I guess I can see his point.” Love could be destructive, make people act irrationally. She knew that firsthand.
Amelia opened the book and sighed. “I wish we were reading something more exciting like The Mortal Instruments.”
Ruthie didn’t recognize the title, not that she expected to. She wasn’t a big reader, probably thanks to all the Shakespeare and Dickens she suffered through in school.
“Have you set your alarm?”
Amelia tapped her phone on the bedside table. “Six-thirty.”
Ruthie would’ve been horrified by the early start but for the fact that her insomnia would have her awake anyway. She switched off the light.
“Good night, Mom-mom,” Amelia said.
“Sweet dreams.”
Ruthie listened for any sound from the bathroom. Keegan was taking a long time. She tried to remember Finn at his age. Her youngest child had been obsessed with his hair. He would comb it repeatedly and then check the mirror to make sure each strand had submitted to his will.
Ruthie knocked on the door. “Are you almost finished?”
“Yes,” came the muffled reply.
Ruthie thought city kids were supposed to grow up faster than those in the rest of the country, but Keegan and Amelia didn’t seem particularly sophisticated to her. They just seemed like—kids, which was a good thing in Ruthie’s book. She laughed to herself, remembering Keegan’s remark about Alice wanting to choose her own groceries. It seemed that Alice had inherited her control issues rather than developed them independently. It was something she and Hunton fought over when they were first married. He accused Ruthie of never being satisfied with anything he did.
“Some people don’t want to be happy,” he’d mutter before stalking off and slamming the door. She wondered now how true his statement had been. She’d thought he was attacking her to deflect attention away from his own shortcomings. She hadn’t possessed the self-awareness to consider that maybe—just maybe—he had a point.
Chapter Fifteen
Alice bustled into the kitchen, her frayed nerves beginning to show. She was accustomed to working somewhat independently, with occasional input from a partner or assistance from a paralegal. The Beachcomber, on the other hand, was purely a collaborative effort.
“How are we doing, Rosalie?” she asked.
The chef glanced up from the work station. “Same as we were the last five times you asked me.”
“Has it only been five?” Alice asked. “I thought this might be lucky number seven.”
Rosalie continued chopping peppers, her feathers unruffled. Alice was usually the one with a knife in a steady hand. It felt strange to be on the other end for a change.
“We’ve been doing this for a long time, Alice,” Rosalie said. “Trust us to do it right.”
Ryan tapped the proposed menu in his hand. “To be fair to Alice, this is our first time hosting this event.”
Henri and Baz entered the kitchen, each carrying a crate of wine bottles. “I think you’ll find that new territory is where I excel,” Henri said.
“And I think you’ll find it’s where I don’t,” Alice shot back. At least she was aware of her weaknesses. That was half the battle, or so they said.
“It’s only your family coming tonight for the tasting,” Baz said, setting the crate on the counter. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
Laughter erupted from the opposite end of the kitchen and Freddie emerged from the shadows. “Word to the wise—keep the sharpest knives in the kitchen.”
“Okay, they’re not that bad,” Alice said.
“Wait until wedding season starts and then you’ll see some real family drama.” Rosalie shook her head. “People talk about Bridezillas, but MOBs are the worst in my book.”
“MOBs?” Freddie asked. He wandered over and tried to steal a sliver of red pepper from the chopping board, but Rosalie’s menacing look stopped him cold.
“Mother of the Bride,” Alice said, holding back a laugh. Clearly, Rosalie wasn’t going to be as easily charmed by Freddie as other mortals.
“I spoke to one of the brides yesterday to let her know I’d be taking over for Tawny and she sounded great,” Freddie said. “Very bubbly.”
Rosalie and Baz exchanged glances. “That must be Francie,” Baz said. “Bubbly is the best word to describe her.”
Freddie’s head bobbed up and down. “Yes, Francie’s her name.”
“Francesca is lovely,” Rosalie said. “It’s Josephine you need to watch out for.”
“Josephine is the MOB, I take it,” Alice said.
“Oh, yeah.” Rosalie angled her head toward Freddie. “You’re going to have your work cut out for you with that one.”
“I didn’t even realize the Beachcomber was available for weddings until you told me,” Alice said. “Shows how much I’ve paid attention.”
“The weddings started about ten years ago,” Ryan said. “Most of the other wineries were offering wedding packages by that point, but Jean was resistant.”
“She worried that the wine would become secondary and the quality would suffer,” Henri said, “which I respect.”
“What changed her mind?” Alice asked.
“The great motivator—money. This place wouldn’t have been able to stay afloat without special events. It’s that simple.” Ryan set the proposed menu for Light Up Your Life on the counter. “This next event might be for charity, but it’s good for business all the same.”
Rosalie smiled. “With the added benefit of no MOB.”
“At least my mother isn’t here,” Alice said.
“Amen to that,” Freddie chimed in.
Ryan placed a hand on each of her shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Relax, Alice. Everything will be fine. It’s only a tasting.” He gave her shoulders a quick squeeze before releasing her.
Alice smoothed a wayward strand of hair. “All right. If everything’s under control in here, I’m going to freshen up before the invasion.”
She’d deposited a change of clothes and toiletries in room 10 so that she didn’t need to drive back to her mother’s house before the tasting. She really wanted the evening to go smoothly and for her family to see the Beachcomber was in good hands.
As she exited the winery and headed toward the separate row of lodging, a wave of panic began to rise, threatening to overtake her. She wanted to get lost among the vines and scream at the top of her lungs. Why did Aunt Jean add this stress to her life? And why did she agree to stay at all? She shouldn’t have succumbed to family guilt. She was forty-eight, old enough to set her boundaries and stick to them, yet here she was—upending her life to please who exactly?
For the next hour, she shut herself away in room 10 and tried to focus on the positives as she made herself presentable. The Beachcomber staff was great. Tawny’s departure aside, they’d pulled together and made every effort to ease Alice into the business. Ryan, especially.
Staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, Alice noticed the color in her cheeks deepen at the thought of Ryan. Quickly, she glanced away from her reflection. Ryan McElroy was the general manager. It was his job to oversee the transition and make sure Alice knew everything there was to know about the Beachcomber. Nothing more. Just because she thought he was handsome…
Alice exited the bathroom, refusing to indulge the thought. She hadn’t looked at a man through a romantic lens since Greg died and she had no interest in starting now. Aunt Jean left her the Beachcomber, not an eligible bachelor.
She combed her hair one more time, grateful that her mother wouldn’t be here tonight to comment on it. No matter how much care she took with her appearance, she could count on Ruthie for an offhand comment about how she must’ve driven with the window down or come straight from the office.
As she made her way back to the winery, she passed Henri outside.
“You look lovely, Alice.” With his slight accent, he pronounced her name like Elyse, but she didn’t mind.
“How’s everything going?” she asked.
“Excellent. Duke and I finished a walk-through of the vineyard earlier to see if any vines looked thirsty. It’s been a bit of a dry spell.”
“Anything to be concerned about?”
“Not at all. Enjoy the tasting. I’ll be sampling barrels and doing blending trials tomorrow. You should join me. I think it will be of interest to you.”
“That sounds great, thanks.” More to learn. There was a time in her life when she enjoyed learning. Why did she stop?
“I noticed a car in the parking lot,” Henri said. “I think some of your family might have arrived.”
Alice’s head swiveled to the winery and her heart began to beat rapidly. “It’s going to be fine,” she said, more to herself.
“That’s the spirit. Jean is cheering you on from the heavens.”
Alice wasn’t convinced. Sometimes it felt like Aunt Jean was spitting on her from above.
She drew a deep, cleansing breath and headed toward the entrance to the winery where she immediately ran into Isabel.
“I’m so excited for this,” Isabel said. “I’m glad you invited everyone.”
“Light Up Your Life was Aunt Jean’s project, so it feels right that we should all play a role in pulling it off.” Her phone beeped with a text message from Amelia, asking for the location of the extra phone charger because Keegan lost his. Alice released a gentle sigh and typed a response—In the drawer closest to the fridge.
“Is your mom handling everything okay in the city?” Isabel asked. “Sorry, I saw Amelia’s name.”
She offered a wan smile. “No one’s complaining.” Much. “I’m seeing them soon for a quick visit. I promised Amelia.”
“You won’t be here for very long in the grand scheme of life,” Isabel said. “And I’m sure this is a nice break for you.” Her brow creased as she seemed to realize the absurdity of her statement. “Okay, break was probably the wrong word to use.”
Alice laughed. “You got that right.” But Isabel was right. This was a break from her normal routine and, even though she was incredibly busy, there was value in that.
Together, they entered the winery and she spotted Finn and Jessica. That they were the first to arrive came as no surprise to Alice. They liked to be first in everything, including arrivals and departures. She could already see her brother scoping the room to see whether any potential clients lurked in the shadows.
“It’s just family tonight,” Alice said. “We’ll have a big crowd for Light Up Your Life, though, so mark your calendar.”
“If you need me to get the word out locally, let me know,” Finn told her.
“Absolutely,” Alice said. “I’ll give you all the details before you leave.”
Freddie entered the room, deep in conversation with Baz, and Alice hoped there wasn’t a problem. Before she could ask, her father arrived hand-in-hand with Penny, and Alice felt a wave of tenderness wash over her. What was it like to be over seventy and still want to hold hands with your spouse? She’d never know now.
Chelsea and Brendan were the last to arrive, which was also not a surprise to Alice. Between their three kids and Chelsea’s perfectionist tendencies, the Somers family was habitually late to everything. Alice suspected that her sister changed her dress at least three times before Brendan insisted they leave the house.
“You look beautiful,” Alice said, and kissed her sister’s cheek.
“I told her that the first two times,” Brendan said.
“Third time’s the charm,” Chelsea said meekly.
Isabel hugged her. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’s nice to be together again so soon, and not because someone died.”
“Technically, this is still because someone died,” Brendan said. “The same someone, in fact.”
Chelsea gave her husband an exasperated look. “This should be fun.” Chelsea turned toward Alice. “Right? This is a fun thing.”
“Yes, definitely,” Alice said. “We’re sampling food and wine and making decisions on which ones to include for the event. All we’d like is your feedback. Ryan has cards for everyone to complete before you leave.”
“Ryan?” Chelsea asked. “He’s the tall, good-looking one in the suit?”
Alice felt her cheeks burn and hoped no one noticed. “The one in the suit, yes,” she said.
* * *
Isabel had looked forward to the tasting all week, but now that she was here, she felt like going back to the guest house and climbing under the covers. Last night with Jackson had been difficult and she couldn’t seem to focus on anything for more than thirty seconds without thoughts of Mason pushing their way to the forefront. She didn’t tell anyone that she’d gone to the city last night because it would raise more questions than she cared to answer.
“Let’s join the others,” Alice said, and started toward the table.
It was only when walking behind Alice and admiring her calves that Isabel realized her sister was wearing a dress. It was pretty and stylish, something Isabel might’ve chosen for herself.
“I love that dress,” Isabel said.
Alice paused and waited for Isabel to fall in step. “Thanks. I did a little shopping the other day. Thought I’d do my bit to support local businesses.”
“Oh, I see. Generating goodwill now that you’re also a local business owner.” And here she thought Alice had taken renewed interest in her reflection. Too bad. Isabel would like to see her sister back in the dating pool.
“There’s an empty seat waiting for you,” Freddie said.
Isabel spotted the empty chair between Freddie and Jessica. She smiled at the assembled guests and gracefully took her seat.
“You look gorgeous,” Jessica whispered.
Isabel mouthed ‘thank you.’ Jessica’s compliments tended to stem from a place of envy and competition and Isabel had no interest in feeding her sister-in-law’s weak spot. Whereas Alice and Chelsea praised her choices with a loving eye, Isabel sensed the silent judgment and criticism that accompanied praise from Jessica.
Once everyone was seated, the general manager approached the table with a friendly smile. “Thank you all for coming tonight. I’m Ryan McElroy. I met some of you at Jean’s memorial service. She would be so pleased to see you back so soon to help us choose our menu for her pet project, Light Up Your Life.” He rested a hand on Alice’s shoulder at the head of the table. “I’m happy to report that Alice has been making Jean proud. She’s fully immersed herself in the business and we’re thrilled to have her.”
Isabel observed Alice as she tilted her head back to smile at Ryan. There was a spark between those two, she felt it in her bones. She looked around the table, wondering whether anyone else noticed, but they seemed oblivious.
Next, the sommelier introduced himself and Isabel listened attentively as he launched into a description of the wines they’d be tasting this evening. Isabel wasn’t fussy about wine and looked forward to trying each one.
“It’s essential to expectorate,” Baz said, “which is why you’ll each find a paper cup as part of your place setting.”
“Swirl, sniff, sip, swish, and spit,” Alice interjected.
“It helps to make notes after each one so you don’t confuse them later,” Baz said.
“I’ll confuse a lot of things later after too much wine,” her father interjected with a laugh.
A server appeared carrying two plates of food and set one at each end of the long table.
“We’d like notes on the food, too,” Ryan said. “If there are two items you think work exceptionally well together, let us know. Same if you dislike something. Please don’t be shy. We want this to reflect your tastes as a family.”
“I feel so special,” Penny said, as Baz went around the table pouring wine into their glasses.
Isabel marveled at the food options as the server continuously returned to the table with additional plates. Tapas dishes, a selection of cheeses, bruschetta, a mezze board, a vegetable platter—Isabel was in her element. For a brief moment, she felt envious of her sister. She wanted to trade her wallpaper samples for Beachcomber samples.
“You’re supposed to spit, remember?” Jessica whispered to her.
Isabel was enjoying the wine so much that she’d forgotten.
Freddie leaned over and said, “Waste not, want not.”
“What’s going on with you, Freddie?” Jessica asked. “I was surprised when Finn said you were still in the Hamptons.”
“This seems like the place to be right now for members of the Hughes family,” Freddie said, “and I am such a member.”
Isabel glanced at Brendan to see if he’d overheard, but, thankfully, he was engaged in a discussion about basketball with her dad.
Despite her repeated attempts to spit, Isabel’s head began to buzz from the effects of alcohol. She knew she wasn’t the only one—Jessica always got louder when she drank too much. Isabel had once calculated a ratio of one decibel per drink for her sister-in-law.
