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Kane King
I didn’t include my phone number this time. I debated it, even typed it once or twice, and then erased it. I had done that already, and she didn’t take me up on it. There had to be a reason. She just wasn’t that interested.
Maybe I was just a fling to her? That would make sense, I guessed. A promotion like she was talking about probably wasn’t a surprise, and she might have known it was coming. Being out in the vines with me gave her an opportunity to celebrate one of her last field moments with a night of fun, and I guess I understood that. I just wished I had known beforehand. I had nothing against flings, but there was something about her that stuck with me.
She didn’t feel like a fling.
I certainly didn’t want her to be a fling.
Still, I had to come to grips with it being done. I wasn’t going to push and try to convince her to call me by sending my phone number with my message. I wasn’t going to try to convince her to stick with me and maybe see where things went, even with her new position. I couldn’t do that.
At least, not over email.
Maybe when I saw her, things would be different. A little bit of time to plan or to let the reality set in. I could figure out a way to present the idea of us continuing to see each other, even casually, for a little while as I got the vineyard going. Once things were going well, perhaps I could come see her, and we could see if we could recreate the magic that we had when she was here before.
The magic she seemed to feel too.
I just didn’t understand why she was so willing to write it off. She was so cold and detached in the email, it was almost as if she was trying to end things quickly. Like she was embarrassed or like she had been convinced it just wouldn’t work. Maybe if I got a chance to show her that I would be willing to see where things went anyway, she would be more interested or willing herself.
I sighed and stuffed the phone back into my pocket. I had a lot to do that day, and while I knew I wasn’t going to get her off my mind, I had to get to it anyway. The last bits of the notes she had left included some things I was still working on, and by the time she showed up in two weeks, they would be fully implemented.
When she showed up again, she was going to see a vineyard at the top of its class. And I was going to see if she was as truly done as she sounded. I just had to make it those two weeks without thinking too much about her.
18
Danica
It had been a few days since I got his email. It felt like the final blow to any potential that might have been there, and I was gutted about it. His response was simple, streamlined, and professional, and I guess it matched my own tone better than I was expecting it to. But at the end of the email, where he had left his phone number before, it simply had his name. No other further way of contacting him. No hope of continuing correspondence other than when I showed up for the final review.
The tension in the house was multiplied by Jaz. She was becoming even more difficult to deal with by the day, and it was driving me absolutely insane. I loved my sister, more than I could possibly say, and I always had and always would, but being pregnant had turned her into a brat. She had never really been a brat before. A little entitled or pushy? Sure. Dramatic? Absolutely. But she was an artsy kid who lived by her emotions and thought that being a dancer was the greatest thing a person could be. I expected some of it. But this was a whole new level of insanity, and I didn’t know how much more of it I could take.
Just that morning we had sniped at each other in a way that seemed a lot more like children than adults. I could recognize that my own reactions to her attitude were getting worse. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but at the same time, I felt like it was at least a little bit reasonable. She might have been my sister, but our upcoming plan was something that was above and beyond the bounds of most sisters’ willingness to bail each other out. I was going to become the mother of her child. Despite the fact that it was altering what I had on my plate and the possibilities I had.
