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“Phone woke me up.”
“Someone called you?”
“No, a text. The bell woke me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“My dad says there’s a family meeting tonight.”
“Yeah, I just got off the phone with your mom. She wanted me to tell you.”
“She and Dad must have gotten their signals crossed.”
“Maybe,” I say.
“I need you to be there,” he says.
“Of course. Whatever you need. I’ll go with you. Your mom already invited me anyway.”
He shakes his head, his tangled hair brushing his shoulders. “No, that’s not what I mean. I need you to be there because I won’t be.”
I widen my eyes. Not that his words surprise me. He’s going to run off again. Part of me already knew that was coming.
“Don’t,” I say, my throat closing against the sobs that want to erupt. “Please.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“You do, Dale. You always have a choice.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I walk toward him. “I do. I understand. Your Syrah vineyards were harmed.”
“Not harmed, Ashley. Burned.”
“Not all of them, and you don’t know that they won’t come back.”
“I know the harvest is lost.”
“Only half of it. Plus, most of it has already been harvested.”
He rakes his fingers through his blond mane of hair, catching them on a tangle. He tugs, his lips turning down in a frown. “You don’t get it.”
“Maybe not. Maybe I don’t know what you’re feeling, but Colorado Pike—”
“Fuck the Pikes,” he roars.
I love him. I love Dale so much, but this comment rubs me the wrong way. “Fuck the Pikes? Really? That’s self-absorption on your part. They lost way more than you did in this fire.”
“Did they?”
“Haven’t you seen the news? Didn’t the guy who found you tell you?”
“It was still happening when he found me,” Dale says.
“Turn on the fucking news, then. Check your phone. They lost three quarters of all their vines, Dale.”
“Then they didn’t adequately prepare.”
“Firebreaks aren’t guarantees. If they were, you wouldn’t have lost what you did. Think about that. You lost half of one varietal. That’s it.”
“You don’t know me at all,” he says in a monotone. “You don’t now, and you never will.”
I whip my hands to my hips. “I know you’ve suffered a loss. It’s a loss to me too. I know what those vines mean to you. I know better than anyone. But they’re things, Dale. Just things.”
Then a thought pops into my mind. He just lost his birth father as well, and though I don’t know what the man meant to Dale, I do know it sent him on a trek into the mountains to deal with something alone.
I open my mouth to say as much, but he beats me to it.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, so stop it, Ashley. Just stop it.”
“I was going to apologize,” I say. “You just lost your father. Birth father, I mean. He’s not a thing. I’m sorry, Dale. I wasn’t thinking.”
He scoffs. “Floyd Jolly didn’t mean shit to me.”
“Then why did you—”
He rakes his hand through his locks once more, snagging his fingers again. “You’ll never understand. No one will ever understand.”
“You’re right,” I tell him. “No one will because you don’t give anyone a chance. Talk to me, Dale. Tell me what’s going on. Let me help you.”
“Fuck you,” he roars.
“Yeah? Well, fuck you too!” I advance toward him. “You’re not the only one who’s ever been hurt. You may think you are, but you’re not. I’m sorry, Dale. I’m so fucking sorry about the Syrah. I’m sorry about whatever happened with your birth father. I’m sorry for every horrible thing that’s ever happened to you. I am. Truly. But until you let someone crash through that wall you’ve built around yourself, you’re never going to heal. I’m going back to your parents’ house.”
He grips my shoulders. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Oh, yeah? You want to watch me?” I pull away, but his grip is too strong. “Let go of me!”
“No,” he says.
“You want me to scream? I swear I’ll scream so loud your parents will hear me.”
“They’re a half mile away,” he says. “No one will hear you, Ashley.”
“Fuck you!” I whip my head toward his hand on my right shoulder and sink my teeth into the space between his thumb and index finger.
He releases me. “What the fuck?”
“I’m out of here. I love you, Dale, but until you let me in, we have nothing.” I grab my purse off the kitchen table and walk out the back door.
“Fine,” he says. “Get the fuck out of here, and don’t bother coming back!”
The tears come then, welling in the bottom of my eyes. I sniff them back. I have to make it to the main house. Penny pants at my heels.
I pet her soft head. “Bye, sweetie. I love you.” Then I open the gate and head up the pathway to the main house.
Shit. The tears come. I can’t stop them with all the willpower I possess. I rummage through the purse hanging off my shoulder and find a tissue. Only one, but it will have to do. I blow my nose, soiling the tissue in record time. A heavy sigh leaves my throat.
