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I don’t know whether to be delighted, or upset, or… scared shitless.
three
Archer
Alittle progress is better than none, I tell myself as I close the door to my rooms. The song sparked by the landscape slipped back into the recesses of my mind so other than transcribing the few notes from my tablet to the manuscript paper, I’ve got nothing. Thankful to leave the barely realized music behind, I stroll down the well-kept gravel road toward the two main houses. One is what would be considered a typical farmhouse. Two stories, wide front porch, white with colored trim. The other is a masterpiece of mid-century 1950’s architecture. Browns and greens, vertical wood paneling and stone with huge floor to ceiling windows. Vastly different yet somehow the buildings go together. The hint of a new melody tickles the back of my brain.
I repeat the musical line a few times to cement it in my head as I head to the back door of the mid-century home as instructed. Alice opens the door before I knock and welcomes me into her home. After explaining her kids had gone into town with their uncle, she introduces me to her husband, David. Able to be Archer for a while, I relax and accept a glass of wine.
“I apologize again for not remembering to tell you about how we’re going to provide your meals.”
“Not entirely your fault, Alice,” I say. “I didn’t think about it either. At least not until my stomach growled. Great selection in the snack basket, though.”
We’re in the library, a large alcove off the main living area that’s lined with shelves filled with an impressive collection of books. There were books in my guesthouse, too. I appreciate books and the people who love them.
Alice lowers herself onto a chair and absently rubs her belly. David reaches over and rests his hand on hers and they share a smile. I feel like I'm intruding and angle to look out a window while sipping my wine.
From the corner of my eye I watch Alice pat her husband’s hand then lean forward. “Here’s what we’ve got planned. Let me know any changes you’d like to make.”
Returning my focus to them, I nod. “Okay.”
“One of the ranch wives loves to cook and bake. We’ve arranged for her to provide meals for you.” She lifts one hand and waves away the objection I was about to make. “She always has extra, so it’s no big deal. I know you want to keep contact to a minimum, at least at first, so I’ll ask her to put the food in the winery kitchen. We’re hoping once we’re fully up and running next year to have a small, café style restaurant available for guests and visitors to the winery. Right now the kitchen is only being used if there’s an event scheduled.”
“I’m perfectly able to cook for myself.”
“If you want to do that then I’ll have Georgia provide a certain number of meals each week that you can reheat and eat whenever. I’ll ask Bailey to stock the kitchen and run into town whenever you need something. I was going to ask her to fill in any meals Georgia isn’t able to provide.”
“Who’s Bailey?”
“Sorry. She’s our vintner. And for the time being she’s also in charge of the kitchen. I invited her over tonight to finalize the plan. Asked her to arrive a little after you so I could warn you. She doesn’t know who you really are. I’ll introduce you as Marcus and you can tell her differently if and when you choose to. We have complete trust in her, so either way your secret will be respected and safe.”
“Sounds good.” If I work it right, I should be able to avoid this Bailey person by cooking my meals at odd times. Rock stars are notoriously eccentric. Lunch at four and supper at eleven. I’ve kept strange hours before when covering for my brother.
“Great. You might even be able to start a list tonight so she can shop tomorrow. Are there any dietary restrictions or dislikes I need to pass on to Georgia?”
“Nothing except I don’t care for squash or sweet potatoes. But really, she doesn’t need to go to any trouble.”
Alice shoots me a wide grin. “I have no doubt you’ll change your mind once you sample Georgia’s cooking. And I’m hoping this will give Bailey a new focus. She hasn’t gotten the results she’s hoping for yet. I think she needs a little distraction. Coordinating meals for a…” She clears her throat. “…huge rock star should offer that distraction. Get her out of her brew room. At least for a little while.”
Bracing her hands against the chair arms, Alice slowly stands. “She’s on the way. We’re eating casual tonight so come on back to the kitchen when you’re ready.”
David seems in no hurry so I mimic his relaxed pose and take another sip of the delicious wine. “Yours?”
“Unfortunately, no. It is from a local Nebraska winery, though. It’ll take a while before our vines produce enough to bottle for sale. It’s not a quick process. We’ve arranged to buy grapes from other growers this year—so Bailey has something to work with. Right now she’s turned her talents to creating an interesting mead.”
That piques my interest. “I’ve enjoyed a few meads in the past. Maybe I can volunteer as a tester.”
He shrugs. “Good luck getting her to let you into her private sanctum or to even just talk about her work. She got burned by a former employer so she keeps her work to herself.”
“I’d never pry into professional secrets.”
“At the risk of exposing your own?” he asks with a chuckle.
I salute him with my goblet.
“Guys, come on back to the kitchen,” Alice calls.
David stands. “We have been summoned. Good luck… Marcus Kane.”
