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Chapter 20
What the heck, I almost kissed Ivy,Nick thought as he drove along Route 27. It was all he thought about that night in his restless sleep. If that director hadn’t interrupted them, who knew what might have happened. Would Ivy have responded? Would Vera tell Amari? How did he feel about Amari? Nick was confused. He didn’t know what to think! The one thing that Nick wasn’t was a deep thinker. Yes, he cared about the world and important issues like equality and the virus—but when it came to making decisions, Nick would go with his gut and act quickly.
He ran track in high school, clocked an impressive 4.5 in a forty-yard dash. His coach had told him he had what was called “scholarship” speed and he could go to any college he wanted. Nick didn’t even give it a second thought—he wasn’t going away from the winery. That was his life. He had gone to Cornell to learn about wine, modernize the winemaking process, and run the family business one day. But when it came to Ivy, he kind of did run away. He had loved her, which made the breakup so hard. But he had put that all behind him, taken over the winery, and prospered with his Poison Ivy wine. His mother was one of his biggest critics, not just of the breakup but of the name choice. She loved Ivy. Everyone loved Ivy. Did Nick still love Ivy? He had to talk to someone. And since his mother was always offering advice about his love life, as inYou don’t have a love life, you haven’t been on a date in years, it was time to have the talk with his mom.
Nick pulled up to his childhood home. The tire swing was still in front where he had pushed his baby sister, Denise; where he’d tried to swing Ivy, and she got motion sickness.
He was surprised to find the front door was locked. His mom’s car was in the driveway. She never locked the house. Especially when she was home. Nick was startled when he opened the back door and saw a man’s backside. Naked. Jutting halfway out of an apron. Standing in the kitchen and holding a knife.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Nick said as he charged the man. Nick grabbed the intruder’s right hand that was holding the knife.
The naked-except-for-an-apron man screamed, “No!”
The knife fell from his hand as Nick tackled him. The two men slammed into the kitchen table which was covered with flour. It flew into the air. Both men coughed.
Nick’s mom ran into the kitchen, in a man’s dress shirt, yelling, “Nick, stop. It’s J. B. The caterer from the movie.” Nick stopped, wiping the flour off his face. J. B. stood up, adjusting his apron for maximum coverage, and kissed Nick on both cheeks.
“Nick, so nice to meet you. Your mother spent half the night talking about you.”
Nick looked at this mother. “Half the night…what did she spend the other half doing?”
“Making croissants. Are you hungry?” Frannie asked, trying to deflect. She seemed slightly unnerved and a bit embarrassed.
Nick observed that J. B. seemed to have no problem with any aspect of this awkward situation. As J. B. hand-whipped his batter he said, “We made beautiful, passionate love.”
“And croissants,” his mom added, covering. “We made croissants also.”
“I’m so happy to hear that, Mom. It is so good to know you still know how to make croissants,” Nick said, not really thinking.
“Yes, have one,” J. B. said. Nick was staring at them both, gap-jawed, when J. B. inserted what was arguably the greatest croissant Nick had ever had into his mouth. “Good, no?”
“Nothing about any of this is good.”
“Nick, outside with me, now,” his mother ordered.
“Yes, you two talk. But take some coffee with you.” J. B. poured Nick and Frannie some coffee.Damn, it’s good,Nick said to himself as he sipped.
***
Moments later, Nick and Frannie sat in the backyard. In silence. Nick admired his mother’s gardening. His dad never liked the garden. He liked to keep a field of grass in case a baseball game broke out. It never did. He was always too busy working. After his dad’s death, Frannie picked up some gardening magazines, some tools, and some plants. Before too long, the backyard was a botanical oasis. She had done the same thing at the winery, framing the outdoor area with flowers.
“The garden looks great.”
“I know. Your father would have hated it,” Frannie said. They both laughed. Nick sipped his coffee. He already knew he was going to get a second cup.
“I’m sorry you found out this way,” she offered.
“Yeah, I didn’t expect to see a naked ass in the kitchen making croissants.”
“I didn’t expect you to come over. You always wake up and go straight to the winery.”
“Do you want to tell me what is going on with you and J. B.?”
“No. I’m your mother. I am not going to talk about my sex life.”
“Sex life,” Nick repeated, albeit unwillingly. His mother had a sex life. He didn’t even have a sex life these days. “I don’t even have a sex life!”
“And whose fault is that?” Frannie said.
