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He knew the right choice for him. But Taylor needed to make her own decision about what was right for her.
"I've gotten your shirt all wet," she said as she wiped away the rest of her tears with the back of her hand. Taking a deep breath, she said, "How about we grab a cup of coffee at the Student Union before we head back?"
There was so much more he wanted to say to her, a dozen additional arguments he had ready to get her to see things his way. But she'd already told him to slow down, and he needed to heed her warning, or risk pushing her away.
The thought of losing Taylor's love gutted him, down to the marrow.
Not yet trusting himself to say anything that wouldn't put her on the defensive, he simply held her hand as they headed over to the campus cafe. While they walked in silence, he remembered what the transplant coordinator had told him--that hope, fear, sorrow, and love were at the heart of nearly every organ transplant. The woman had explained how hard this decision could be for people in Taylor's position, and how Taylor's biggest fear was likely that he would be harmed during or even recovery.
He'd listened carefully--at least, he thought he had. But the truth was that when he'd come back outside to Taylor, he'd still been barreling through her life, and her choices, like that bull in the china shop.
As they ordered then waited for their coffees, he made a silent vow to be more understanding of where she was coming from, even if it wouldn't change his decision about wanting to be her donor. He'd always respected Taylor's opinions and her beliefs. He couldn't use loving her and wanting to help her as an excuse to act differently now.
She was desperate for some simple happiness. He racked his brain to think of something fun they could do to give them a few hours of respite. No question about it, they needed something to make them laugh and take the pressure off for a little while. Thankfully, that was when his eye caught on a flyer stapled to the announcement board on the opposite wall for the St. Helena Grape Stomp Competition.
He sent a quick text to his sister, then turned to Taylor once he had Maddie's reply. "What do you say we do a little grape stomping?"
Clearly lost in her thoughts, Taylor looked at him in confusion. "Grape stomping?"
"Yup." He grinned at her, pointing at the flyer. "There's a competition in your town this afternoon that's got our names all over it."
"It sounds fun, but I don't want to take advantage of Maddie's generosity."
"She's happy to cover for as long as we need her." He held up his phone so Taylor could see his sister's reply to his text asking if she could stay a few hours longer. "It's right here, in her own words--she's having a fabulous time and baking in your kitchen is just what she needed after a crazy week working in the city."
Seeing the spark in Taylor's eyes, the one that told him she wanted to go stomp some grapes even if she thought she should go back and relieve Maddie of her kitchen duties, he decided now was one of those times when it was good to be a bit of a china-smashing bull. "It won't take long--and then once we've won the big prize, we'll head straight back to your B&B."
"My mother always did think you were a bad influence," she said, but she was smiling as she said it. A smile full of enough relief that he knew a break from the stress of any further tests or big decisions for an afternoon was exactly the right thing.
Hopefully, everything else would become equally clear very, very soon.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Taylor couldn't believe they were about to stomp grapes. Only Justin could have gotten her out here, with her jeans rolled up to her knees and her feet bare.
They were standing together, her back to his front, his arms wrapped around her waist, as they waited their turn. Ten teams had signed up for the competition. Although there would be several small prizes given out to the groups that squeezed the most juice out of the grapes with their feet, it was obvious that this wasn't really a competition, but rather a chance for the community to come together to celebrate the vineyards and the wines for which St. Helena was world famous. Several people Taylor had met during the past months had already come by to say hello.
Today, she didn't hesitate to let everyone know that Justin was her boyfriend. And not just because he'd told her that he was planning to set up a lab nearby so that he could stay with her in St. Helena. The miles between California and Germany had never truly been the issue. They could have weathered that if they had to. Perhaps someone on the outside looking in would think that their relationship had moved really fast in the past forty-eight hours--from making love to declaring their feelings to making big career and location changes. But they'd had eight years to build to where they were now.
Eight years of longing. Eight years of secret loving.
She might be confused and conflicted about plenty of other things in her life, but her feelings for Justin were perfectly, beautifully clear.
Laughter and hilarity rang out while the first couple made an absolute mess of their barrel of grapes. Resting her head against Justin's chest, she let herself relax for the first time all day. The song "Stomp Them Grapes" was playing on repeat, while a couple of large-screen TVs had been set up showing the I Love Lucy episode where Lucille Ball made stomping grapes look like the funniest thing in the world.
Taylor laughed as she watched Lucille Ball go totally crazy in the grape vat--one of the teams competing was actually dressed up as Lucy and the grape stomper--and it felt good to feel "normal" for a little while. The morning's coolness had given way to a wonderfully warm afternoon, and Taylor loved being able to bask in the sun as she closed her eyes and turned her face toward the sky.
It would be all too easy to let herself dwell on bad lab reports and blood work, to forget about fun while she spent all of her time weighing difficult decisions. Justin was right. Not only did they need a break from the heaviness of it all, but being here today as a part of her new community served as yet another reminder about the good decisions she had already made to quit her office job in Palo Alto and move to St. Helena.
"They've just called our team name," Justin said, his breath at her ear sending a delicious shiver through her despite the warmth of the sun. "Are you ready for Team Super Stomp to dominate?"
She spun into his arms, laughing at the team name he'd come up with as she kissed him. "I love you." She never wanted him to forget it, didn't want him to think that her reticence to accept his offer to be her donor meant she didn't care for him more deeply than she did anyone else. "No matter what."
He gazed into her eyes, making her feel as though they were the only people for miles, even in the middle of a big crowd. "No matter what."
Hand in hand, they walked over to their barrel, which had already been loaded up with dark purple grapes. "Your goal today," the volunteer in charge reminded them, "is to extract the most juice out of measured amounts of wine grapes. I'm assuming you will be the stomper?" he said to Taylor, making his guess based on her rolled-up jeans and bare feet. "Please step into the foot wash." Turning to Justin, he said, "Your job as the swabber will be to stand outside the barrel and catch the juice in this bucket. Don't hesitate to reach inside the barrel to assist your stomper to ensure a free flow of juice through the screen and out the drain spout. Got it?"
Justin nodded, the beauty of his grin making Taylor's heart flip inside her chest.
She'd been a fool not to tell him about her diagnosis months ago when she'd first found out. And she'd been an even bigger fool to let their friendship slide away after he left Stanford for Germany. She'd never make a mistake like that again. No matter what happened from here on out, she would never take Justin's friendship, or his love, for granted again.
What they had, she now understood, was the most rare and precious thing in the world. Something to fight for, against all odds.
"Stomper," the volunteer said to her, "please take your position inside the barrel."
Justin held on to her hands as she carefully made her way up the stairs and onto the mound of grapes. "It feels s
o weird," she said, wrinkling her nose at the strange feel of the fruit already popping apart beneath her feet. She took a step and realized how slippery it was.
"Your hands go here." Justin placed them on the side rim of the barrel so that she was leaning over slightly at the waist in his direction. "As long as you keep holding on, you should be steady. But don't worry, I won't let you fall."
"I know you won't," she said, then bent down a little farther so that they could kiss.
The volunteer held up a stopwatch. "Five-second countdown. Five, four, three, two, start stomping!"
Justin's kiss had sent so much happiness shooting through her, that the second she was let loose in the barrel, she became a wild stomping machine. Grape skins and dark purple juice flew in every direction, most of it up onto her jeans and T-shirt and the bare skin of her arms, legs, and face--but also onto Justin, who wasn't at all spared by standing outside the barrel, holding the bucket under the drain spout and cheering her on.
"No one can stomp grapes the way you can, Taylor!" he yelled. "You're amazing! You're unstoppable! You're a Super Stomper!"
Though she was majorly out of breath, she couldn't stop laughing. Stomping grapes was one of the grossest--and most fun--things she had done in a very long time. Grape juice was flowing from the barrel into Justin's bucket with such speed that he barely had time to put it down and pick up another one before it overflowed. The crowd had gathered around them, and soon, Justin was leading the group in a rousing chorus of "Super Stompers! Super Stompers! Super Stompers!"
She had nearly run out of steam when the stopwatch dinged again. Still laughing, Justin pulled her out of the barrel and swung her around. He kissed her until she was even more breathless, and when he finally let her go, she stumbled slightly, directly into the path of their two full buckets of grape juice.
Both buckets knocked into one another, then bumped out in the opposite direction, toppling over before anyone could stop them.
"Oh no." She looked at Justin with wide eyes. "I actually thought we might have a chance of winning."
"It's okay." He hugged her tighter. "We've already won the biggest prize of all, don't you think?"
He was right. Even when they'd been only friends back in college, she'd already felt like she'd won the lottery. Who else had a best friend so smart and funny and sweet and caring? And now, with love on their side, surely they could triumph over even the most difficult problems. Couldn't they?
"Thank you for bringing me here today." She held his face in her hands, even more mesmerized by him than she had been the first time she'd set eyes on him. "It was exactly what I needed." Her side was aching a little bit after all the exertion, but it was nothing compared to the pain she'd felt when she collapsed on the stairs. "You're exactly what I need."
No question about it--she had already won the biggest prize of all.
*
