Page 51 of Wild Abandon

One thing to note about summer in Napa is, the weather is all over the place. Yesterday, I was wearing capri pants and a cardigan. Today, I am sweating my tail off in a tank top and shorts. Sure, it’s not the most appropriate clothing for work, but as I’ve been getting down and dirty every day, there really is no need to get dressed up.

Especially since it’s a hundred three degrees outside.

Sitting on the grass on the road that leads into Russet Ranch, I have four cans of paint in front of me and a brush in my hand.

You know the line, “If you build it…” from Field of Dreams? Well, if no one knows you built it, why would they come?

So, I am repainting the outside sign. I’m not the best painter, but since the words already exist, I can keep with what is there and do my best at reviving the worn gray sign.

Using red, blue, green, and white paint, I’ve spent the last three hours going over every portion. I paint a letter and then step back across the road to look at it from a distance. I’ve done this countless times, and the finished product is looking okay.

Using my forearm, I brush the sweat off my head. My chest is beet red, and my kneecaps are starting to look crisp. I applied sunblock and am doing my best to stay in the shade of a large nearby tree, but on a day like today, it’s hard to avoid the sun altogether.

I’m also starting to smell. Lifting my arms, I flap them up and down in a shameful attempt to air them out. I look like I’m doing the chicken dance, which shouldn’t matter. While I’m mid flap, a beat-up truck comes barreling down the curve and turns into the driveway. I hold my hand over my eyes to block out the sun.

From the scowl on his face, I can tell he hasn’t been singing show tunes today. Wherever he just came from has put him in a bad mood.

Big Ed rolls down the passenger window and looks over at me. “What in hell’s angels are you doing?”

I motion over to the freshly painted sign. “What do you think?”

He raises a chin and looks at the sign, inch by inch. His eyes rove back to me and then to the sign again. When he is finished with his inspection, he shifts the car in gear and shouts out the window, “Don’t be standing on the road, flapping away like a dang bird. Everyone’s gonna think I went to the mental clinic to find you.” With that, he drives up the road toward the ranch.

I take one last look at the sign and decide my work is complete for the day. Gathering my cans, I walk back to the ranch and put the supplies away in the newly organized supply closet. This is another adventure I tackled this week. I want to get into Ed’s office, but that is off-limits.

For now.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

Walking into the main room, I am relieved to be in the shade and the coolness near the floor fan. I take a seat on the sofa and let the fan drill me in the face, calming my hot skin.

“Here. You look like a hen in heat.” Big Ed places a carafe of ice water on the wagon-wheel coffee table and a tall drinking glass beside it.

“Thanks.” I lean forward, fill the glass, and drink it down in one large gulp.

Big Ed lifts his hat and wipes his brow with a handkerchief. Despite the intense heat, he is still in pants and a short-sleeved button-down. It seems to be his uniform of sorts.

Just looking at his beard is making my own chin sweat.

“Have you always had a beard?”

“Have you always had long hair?”

“Do you always answer a question with a question?”

“Only when people ask me stupid questions.”

Touché.

I refill my glass and take another cooling sip, the ice water bringing my body temperature back to normal. Big Ed is looking down at the foot of the sofa where I have the portrait of the little girl resting against the cushion. From the way he’s staring at her, I have a sense this isn’t just a random painting he purchased for its intense brushstrokes.

I get up and stand next to him. “Who is she?”

“My daughter.”

“I thought your wife couldn’t have children?” I’m being nosy, but he doesn’t remark. I swallow at the intensity on his face as he looks at the picture. “What’s her name?”

His mouth is downturned. “Ellie. She was a surprise baby. After years and years of trying, Rosemary was finally blessed with her baby.”