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“Is that really what you think of me?” The mix of emotions inside me simmers, threatening to boil over. “If you think that’s what I’ve been doing, how come I’m the only person from home you’ve talked to since you went back to France? If you can call me leaving you voicemails and you sending a text in response ‘conversation.’ If you think so little of me, why be my friend at all?”
I move to step past him, but again, Nate blocks me, raising his voice as he jabs a finger in my chest. “You’re the one who insisted I come home. Did it occur to you that I’m looking out for my family?”
“Who do you think has been looking out for them for years?” I shout back, years of anger and resentment exploding through me as I shove him back. “You left! You walked away and left me here to clean up the mess you made on your way out.”
Nate shoves me in return, and I stumble down the hill a few steps. His face is as dark as the clouds overhead as he growls out the next words. “You certainly made yourself comfortable while I was gone. Getting cozy with my parents, sucking up to Sutton and his wife. Was that the plan all along? To insinuate yourself with the billionaire so that when my parents retire, they leave it all to you?” He snorts. “Like you even know what you’re doing. How many YouTube videos do you watch every night to keep up the pretense?”
“Do you think running this place was my dream?” The question explodes out of me. “It was yours. It was always supposed to be yours. I’ve been working my ass off to keep this place going—for you.” Frustrated, I run a hand through my hair, fighting the urge to knock sense into my former friend. “I don’t have time for this, I’ve got to go. Maggie needs me.” I turn to walk away through the row to my left, if he won’t let me pass I’ll go the long way around.
“Fine. Run away to your little girlfriend. Maybe she can suck some of that pompous, holier-than-thou attitude out of you.”
My fist connects with Nate’s stomach a second later. He doesn’t hesitate, grabbing me with one arm and landing a blow to my side. He’s got me around the shoulders, but I wrap my arms around his waist and push back, our feet sliding on the wet leaves and ground as we grapple. Our thick coats get in the way and we shove apart, panting.
“Don’t talk about Maggie.” I growl, pushing away from him and aiming another blow to his face.
Nate leans back to avoid my punch, then steps forward to glance a blow off my jaw. “Give me back my winery.” Nate growls back, then kicks out at my thigh.
Distantly, someone shouts our names, probably Jackie. Nate and I dance around each other, neither of us able to do more than land the odd blow.
“Daddy!” Olive’s scream breaks through the red haze. “Leave my Daddy alone!” Her voice is getting nearer. Jackie calls her name, but I know my little girl—she’s fast as fuck. I look away from Nate to see her barreling down the row toward me.
On instinct, I shove Nate back hard enough that he loses his footing, landing on his back, narrowly avoiding the vine growing behind him. Olive comes flying at me and I grab her in midair. “I’m fine. Come on, Olive. We’re leaving.”
Nate grunts something, but I tune it out, my ears filled with Olive sobbing into my shoulder. I stroke the back of her head, making soothing noises, even though it stings my split lip.
“It’s okay, Pickle. I’m okay, I promise.” I whisper over and over as I head toward Greg and Jackie’s. Footsteps crunch on the ground behind me and I glance back, relieved to see Jackie storming my way.
“What was that all about?” Jackie huffs as she falls in beside me.
I heft Olive higher in my arms, my sides aching from the blows Nate got in. “We were just discussing a few things.”
“You call that discussing?” Jackie reaches out to stroke Olive’s head. “Shhhhhh, sweetie, it’s fine. We’ll get your daddy all cleaned up.”
Olive sniffs into my shoulder. “Why were you fighting Uncle Nate?”
I pause at Jackie’s front door, waiting for her to open it for me. She steps inside, calling for Greg while I set Olive down. She clings with her legs for a second before releasing me. I squat in front of her, looking in her eyes as I speak. “Uncle Nate said some unkind things about Maggie. I asked him to stop, but he didn’t want to listen. I’m sorry that scared you, but I’m okay, I promise.” She nods, eyes big and glassy. I glance up at Jackie. “Maggie called me just now, she needs my help.”
Jackie looks me over. “Do you have time to clean up first?”
“Can I help Maggie, too?” Olive clings to my hand as I stand up, my thighs already sore.
“Right now, I need you to stay here and help Grandma Jackie take care of Grandpa Greg. What if he needs to eat while I’m gone?” I tweak one of Olive’s curls and lean down to stage-whisper in her ear. “I think Grandpa Greg is pretty tired of eating sandwiches—maybe you better make him some mac and cheese for dinner.”
The mention of getting to cook distracts Olive long enough for me to extricate myself from her grip. Jackie’s already in the kitchen with a wet washcloth. “Are you okay to watch her?” I reach out to take the washcloth, but Jackie pulls it back.
“Yes, dear.” Jackie starts wiping my face, the action taking me back to more than one tussle Nate and I got into as kids. “I’m always happy to have her here. And if anyone can distract Greg from his boredom, it’s her.”
She dabs at my lip and I hiss at the sting. “Should I be worried about you and Nate?”
I shake my head. “It's been a long time coming, Jackie. We’ll work it out, we always do.”
“Is there anything I can do to help Maggie?” Jackie dabs at a few more spots on my face before handing me the washcloth.
I wipe at my hands, but stop when the terry cloth pulls at the cuts and scrapes on my skin. “I don’t think so. I don’t actually know what the problem is myself.” I flip on the tap instead and scrub my hands, dirt and a little blood running down the drain.
“She’s good for you. I really like her.” Jackie pats my back before walking away. “Olive? Do you want to have a sleepover with us? I think Grandpa Greg needs some Olive TLC and a movie night, don’t you?”
“Jackie—”
