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“I’m concerned about the price of fixing the soil,” he said. “Now, before you start in on me, I know. I know nothing works if the wine isn’t good, and we need to have the best of ingredients and the best of care in order to produce a higher quality yield. I know. But the number she quoted you, it’s… rather high.”
“I know,” I said.
“I just don’t want you to feel obligated to take her advice on every bit of this information when there could be more creative ways around some of the higher cost, but ultimately voluntary items. At least for now.”
“I know.”
“You know?” he asked.
“Look, I know that number is awful high. My eyes about bugged out of my head when I saw it too. But you have to remember that this is the centerpiece of everything. Without this, we are just a restaurant with a bunch of land and our own vinegar, you know?” I said. “Now, I can do this on the cheap. I can do that. But eventually, in the long run, we need to do it.”
Cam nodded, and I went back to work. The tension seemed not to manifest the way I thought it would. Cameron was known for starting all-out wars over pennies if he thought he was right and that the spending was wasteful. But certain areas he had been a little laxer on, bowing to those with better knowledge. It had happened with the kitchen and some of the suggestions Derek had. I knew Noah had pushed back against it, but Cam had overridden him, saying that the budget was there.
Now, it seemed like it might be happening again. He seemed to be at least allowing me the chance to argue my case without immediately conflicting with me. It was a fairly novel situation, and I sat back, waiting for the moment to end and for him to launch into an explanation as to why I was wrong and how cold, hard numbers proved him right.
When it didn’t come, we fell into a new silence. I kept working on the soil, and he stayed there, seeming content with the quiet as he thought, and we just kept each other company.
I was nearly done, and something had been weighing on my mind for some time. I wanted to address it before Cam left, and as he stood up, brushing off his pants and seeming like he was about to say goodbye, I figured it was time to take my shot. I cleared my throat and looked up at him. He looked down to me and cocked his head to one side.
“So, I was thinking,” I said.
“Always a dangerous thing,” Cam teased.
“I think I might like a new dog.”
Cameron laughed and shook his head.
“A dog?” he asked. “Are you sure about that? That cat of yours already doesn’t like to share. How would it handle a dog running around?”
“Well, not exactly just for me, you know,” I said. “Like a goofy mutt for the winery. A dog that could roam the grounds and keep watch and be company for me while I’m out here doing all the damned work.”
I grinned, and Cameron returned the expression. He was used to me making the point that the physical labor was the “real” work, while his work was just playing on a computer. He knew I didn’t believe that, but I was going to use it on him anyway.
Cam’s face softened a bit, like he was remembering something, and nodded.
“Sure thing, bro,” he said. “We’ll talk to the others about it, but I don’t see why not.”
I nodded and took a big sip of my water.
With that, Cam waved and headed out, going back toward the main building. I sat back on my heels and looked at the vineyard. The sweat on my brow and the dirt under my nails was exactly what I always felt like was real life. At least the life I enjoyed living. Hard work in the fields combined with the mental challenge of guiding the vines to grow the way I wanted them, the grapes to produce the yield I wanted from them, the experiments of blending vines and grapes and wines together… it was all the challenge and all the satisfaction I wanted out of life.
Especially when I added something like what had happened with Danica. If what was going on there turned into something regular, something perhaps even permanent, then my life was going to start looking really good. Better than I had ever really thought it would.
I thought back just a few months, when the vineyard was in terrible shape, the buildings were falling apart, and the restaurant was filled with cobwebs and sadness. The vines were sad and dry, and while the grapes were hearty, they were dying. It took time and an extraordinary amount of effort to revive them. Just as it had taken time and extraordinary effort to revive the business side, the restaurant, the whole thing. It took effort. It took the strength of our backs and our brains, and here I was, sitting on the precipice of victory.
