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Everyone drank heartily to that. Our parents, the original owners of Grado Valley Vineyards, were off on another trip, their third since retiring earlier this spring. It had nearly killed our father not to be here for harvest, but our mother was determined to keep him away as much as possible—especially, she said, this first year. Otherwise his retirement would certainly devolve into a working one. He’d been having a more difficult time stepping back than he’d expected.
“To Brooke’s quest to bring Sarah Gibson to Grado Valley,” I said. “May she be successful, and may Sarah fall in love with our wine.”
A chorus of “salute” was followed by silence as we drank.
“I still can’t believe she might be coming here.” Min wiggled on her stool, presumably getting more comfortable.
“I am positively determined,” Brooke said, “to bring her here.”
“You’ve got, what, three weeks to do it?” Marco asked.
“According to my source,” Brooke said, “she’s flying straight from the UK to New York and hitting Long Island, Hudson Valley, and then us, before Napa.”
“Finally, the East Coast is getting some love,” I said. “It’s about time.”
“And not just any love. Sarah Gibson love,” Cos said, as if I didn’t already realize the magnitude of it.
Having the British wine critic—a woman some considered to be the most influential in the world—come here, to our corner of wine country...it was both exciting and harrowing, the idea that we might be able to get her to visit Grado Valley Vineyards. Apparently, she was still accepting stops in her itinerary, and if Brooke managed to snag one of the coveted spots on her list, despite the hundreds of wineries in the region, I’d never be able to thank her enough. It was a winemaker’s dream.
Speaking of dreams...my phone lit up. But this wasn’t the kind of text I dreamt about getting from Min’s friend Thayle.
After reading Thayle’s text, I looked up from my phone and turned to the others. “Guys, we have a problem.”
TWO
thayle
No,no, no, no, no.
This could not be happening. I ran past the bright lights flashing “Emergency Room” and into a mostly empty waiting area. There was no one here.
I dashed to the desk. “Excuse me. I’m looking for someone—”
“Name?” She was no-nonsense.
“Rich Williams.”
She typed something into her computer. “Are you a relative?”
“No,” I said, a bit panicky that she wouldn’t tell me anything. Rich’s wife had stopped responding to my texts. “Friend.” But I clarified, “Good friend. They are my neighbors. Rich is practically my grandfather.”
She looked at me as if to say “practically” wasn’t the same as “actually.”
The receptionist went back to her computer as my name was called from behind. Min and Neo rushed toward me. Relief at their arrival was replaced by fear when the receptionist shut me down. “I’m sorry, I can’t give you any information.”
“Is he okay?” Min asked anyway.
“I’m pretty sure no information for Thayle means no information for you too.”
The receptionist recognized Neo immediately. “You’re one of the Grado brothers?” she asked. Though she was older than Neo, probably Cosimo’s age, she wasn’t wearing a ring. Her flirtation with Neo confirmed it. “You’re a friend of the family?”
“I am,” he said.
She brightened, turning up a smile that suggested she was willing to make an exception for Neo. “He’s with his wife and the doctor now. I’ll let them know you’re here.”
Seriously? I was about to ask her why she was able to share the information with Neo but not me, but Min stopped me. “Come on, let’s go sit.”
“Mr. Grado,” the receptionist said. “Are you guys open tomorrow? A friend and I were thinking to hit some wineries—”
