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“Excuse me?”
“Are you single?”
“Not that you have any right to know, but yes.” She leans back, arms crossed over her chest, pushing her boobs up in a way that I can barely keep myself from staring at. “Why?”
“Because that sounds like the kind of bullshit excuse a woman would give if her husband or boyfriend was responsible.” I should know. How many times did I hear something similar working at the hospital? Why am I even asking? I don’t care about this woman. She is not my responsibility, and yet the idea of her being with someone else, someone who would do something like that, has me ready to throw fists. If Nathaniel were here, he’d tell me to stop taking on other people’s problems. Not that I would listen, since I’m here taking care of his problems.
Maggie doesn’t answer, staring into her wine glass for an uncomfortably long time. Holding the stem, she swirls the wine, watching it. Ignoring me. It goes on long enough to make me regret ever sitting down at this table.
I clear my throat. “Ignore that. I’m an ass. You didn’t ask for my opinion. I’ll just go now.” I push back in my chair and stand, but Maggie stops me, her arm shooting out to latch onto my wrist.
“Don’t apologize—it does sound like a bullshit excuse, even if it is absolutely true.” She gives me a crooked smile.
Not knowing what to say in response, I clear my throat. “I should get back to work. Have a nice day.” I pause in front of Olive. “Come on, Pickle. We have work to do.”
“Awww, Dad. Do I have to? Why can’t I stay here?”
“You know the rules. Jackie has to work the tasting room, and she can’t babysit you while she does it. And you’re not allowed behind the bar either, so don’t ask. Let’s go.”
“She could stay with me?” Maggie pipes up from across the room. “At least for a while. I don’t have anywhere else to be today, and I wouldn’t mind a chance to put my foot up before I drive home.”
Olive turns her puppy dog eyes on me—they would probably be more effective if I didn’t catch her glance at the two slices of cake by Maggie’s elbow. “Please?”
“I did promise her some cake,” Maggie adds and Olive’s face lights up.
“I don’t normally leave my daughter with strangers, you know. Especially strangers with cake.”
Olive wraps her arms around my waist. “Maggie’s not a stranger, Daddy. Look at her—she’s so nice.”
I tweak her nose. “You mean, she’s got cake.”
“Well, that too.”
Maggie waves a hand. “I promise not to steal her. Besides, with this bum ankle, I think Jackie could take me down before I got anywhere near the door with her.”
I glance back at Jackie, who gives me a subtle nod. “Best behavior, Pickle.” I make eye contact with my daughter, keeping my face serious until she acknowledges me with a nod and a smile. I never could deny her much, and her staying out of the way up here means I can move faster in the field.
I start to walk away, but I don’t get far before Jackie clears her throat. Loudly. I turn back to see what she needs, but Jackie just jerks her head in Maggie’s direction. “Right. Uh. Thanks. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t let her have too much sugar.”
Maggie waves me off. “Not a problem. Thanks for loading up my car.”
I hesitate, unsure if I’ve done enough to make Jackie happy, but she’s busy pouring another taste for the couple at the bar. With a wave, I head out the door and down the back pathway to get back to work.
Kel
Despite the cool breeze and lack of sun, sweat is dripping down my back as I use my chainsaw to section off the log in front of me. I’ve been back at work for hours, hauling the fallen logs we let accumulate down here over the past few years. Greg has been talking about clearing this field for years to make it accessible by car instead of only by foot. Since I’m waiting for the crew, I decided to get started on it. Better than sitting around waiting.
I meant to be further along than I am, but this morning’s emergency frosting job cut into my workday.
“…down here.” Olive’s voice carries on the breeze as I turn off the chainsaw and push my safety glasses to the top of my head. “This is my favorite spot in the whole wide world.”
I straighten as Olive comes bouncing down the path toward me, towing Maggie behind her. Maggie is picking her way down the path carefully, head swiveling from side to side as she takes everything in.
Maggie and Olive are both bundled up in puffy jackets. They must have stopped by our house to grab it. My coat and shirt are draped over a tree stump, my bare chest covered in sawdust and sweat. I set the chainsaw down and the movement catches Maggie’s attention. Her eyes go wide, raking over my body in a quick assessment that leaves me both unsatisfied and unnerved.
“O-Olive wanted to come find you. She thought you might be hungry.” Maggie stammers as I pull my shirt back on. That’s when I notice the water bottle sticking out of her pocket and a sandwich bag in her free hand.
“We brought you a PB&J, Daddy. That was the only thing Maggie said she could make. And I ate ten whole carrots plus some cucumber slices.” Olive comes bouncing over, tugging me down so she can kiss my cheek. My eyes are locked on Maggie’s while she does it, a grin spreading over my face as a blush creeps over hers. The mist in the air has settled on her hair, little bits of frizz curling around her head. She looks less polished than this morning, and part of me prefers it.
