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“Are you using one?”
I shake my head. “I’m thinking about quitting.”
“What?” Mom screeches and I feel the car swerve.
“I know,” I say with a sigh. “But we only had two embryos and I feel like I’m blessed to be pregnant now, I really don’t want to spend ten hours a day away from this baby. And I don’t want someone else to raise him or her.”
“What if it’s Mom?” Elle asks.
“Unless I quit that means Mom is moving to Portland with Oliver.”
“As much as I love you both, I’m not becoming a nanny. Your dad and I are very much looking forward to being grandparents. Spoil them and send them home.”
“Like you with Evelyn and Jamie?” Elle asks.
“Exactly,” Mom says as she turns into the first vineyard. “We love Oliver, but he's a handful. I never realized how tired I was until he started walking.”
“Any word on the adoption?” I ask as we get out of the car.
“Hopefully we’ll hear next week. Your dad wants it done because I think the band is going to head back on tour. He doesn’t want someone taking a photo of Ollie and having it plastered all over the web.”
“The last thing you need is for his mother to come back,” Elle says.
“That would break my heart in too many ways to count. At first, it’s what I wanted, but now that he’s been mine for a year and a half, I can’t imagine my life without him.”
Elle reaches for my hand. We walk side-by-side, with me in the middle and our mom on my other side. It’s an odd formation but works for us.
“He’s going to end up being a big brother to our babies,” I say.
“If he’s anything like Quinny, he’ll be the best,” Elle says.
“As long as we can teach him to be nice. He’s in the pulling, biting, and hitting stage. I have no idea where he’s learned any of this because it’s not like your dad acts this way. It’s definitely not a learned behavior.”
“Maybe from the play dates he has?” Elle asks.
“Possibly, but I’m there with him. I don’t see it. Although, sharing is an issue at those play groups. The other babies take his toys, and he cries, which I get. Technically, he’s an only child and doesn’t understand sharing. Your dad and I try to work on it, but I think it’s different when it’s toddler to toddler.”
“Well soon you’ll have a houseful,” I tell her as we reach the door to the winery. “You’ll be on full-time grandma duty while Elle and I are basking in the sun.”
Mom lets out a soft chuckle. “I love you dearly, but no.”
“Riiight,” Elle says as we walk in.
As if on cue, Elle’s contact walks out and greets us. She introduces us to Kerry, and we start the tour. She takes us through the vineyard, pointing out the different grapes, and tells us about the growing season. She details the history of the vineyard, what wines they produce, and introduces us to other employees as we walk the grounds. This is all fascinating, if not mundane. Every winery has the same story, it started with a dream, or it’s been handed down through many generations. I’m not sure if Elle is even interested or just wants to see the spot where she would walk down the aisle and renew her vows with Ben.
When we finally reach what Kerry refers to as the grand wedding location, I’m not impressed. I have a better view of the ocean from my patio. It’s hilly, uneven, and you can faintly hear the water. If Elle and Ben wanted to see the water, they’d have to walk to the edge and the ocean still wouldn’t be in their backdrop.
Kerry takes us inside to show us where the reception would be. The room is small, not that Elle’s guest list is overly large, but she’ll have a live band or four and people will dance. Our father will have industry professionals there and I believe Elle and Ben are inviting some of Noah’s teammates. There needs to be space and this room doesn’t have it.
Elle glances at me and without her saying anything, she knows I’m not impressed. Sometimes it’s hard to hide how you’re feeling, but the website for this winery showed a very different picture of what they can offer.
As soon as the tour ends, Kerry urges Elle to sign a contract, saying dates are filling up. She’s good at her job, but the winery isn’t selling itself. At least, not to me.
“I’m still looking at other places,” Elle tells her. Kerry nods. She gets it. Every bride has to do their due diligence. “I’ll be in touch.”
Once we’re an earshot away, I say, “Not a fan. The pictures they have on their website do not match.”
“No, they don’t. I hate when businesses do this,” Mom says. “It really chides my butt that they wasted our time.”
