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We make our way to the stone terrace where couples and groups are seated at high-top tables enjoying glasses of wine and charcuterie. He waves to a black woman wearing a Red Cliff Vineyards apron. She waves back, finishes pouring from the bottle in her hand, and then comes to greet us.
“Mariah, this is Keema Jeffries,” Edward says. “She manages the tasting rooms. Keema, allow me to introduce my daughter.”
A look of surprise flashes across her face, but she recovers quickly. She asks me where I grew up and if I’m still in school. The usual stuff. It’s nice to finally meet someone who doesn’t immediately hate me.
Edward and I are about to head inside when Keema says, “Mr. Radcliff, I left a note on your desk. Tony hasn’t shown up for his shift in three days.”
He frowns. “That’s a shame. I liked Tony. If he doesn’t come back by Monday, you can post the job in the paper.”
The winery’s insides are just as elaborate as its outsides. Edward starts by taking me around the kitchens and banquet spaces before leading me into the production area. He shows me the conveyor belts where the grapes are sorted, and the various presses, crushers, and aerators that juice the grapes and oxygenate the wine. We tour the massive fermentation tanks and the storage areas.
Finally, he takes me to the place I’ve been dying to see: the gardens.
“Isabella spent a lot of time out here,” he says. “We kept the overall size the same, and then built this patio to expand the tasting area. People really seem to love it out here.”
“I can see why.” It’s late in the season, and many of the flowers have gone to seed, but plenty of others are in bloom. Walking the garden path is like stepping into a fairytale. I’m convinced there are pixies living in the trees.
Edward gestures for me to take a seat at one of the small, round tables.
“So, what did you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” I say. “I see why my mother loved it here.”
“Maybe in a few weeks, you’ll find you love it so much you won’t want to leave.”
I smile politely. My mom may have grown up here, but it’s been almost twenty years since she left. I’m a stranger to this place, no more tied to it than I am to the stranger seated across from me.
“Edward, I appreciate you bringing me out here, but you have to know I’m only here because my mom told me to come. As soon as my inheritance goes through, I’m going home.”
He strokes his stubbled chin. “I understand your trepidation, Mariah. You have very little reason to feel tied to this place, or the people who live here. But perhaps instead of looking at this trip as a favor, you could try and see it as an opportunity.”
“An opportunity for what?”
“To get to know the other side of yourself, and your family.”
“Um, Edward, in case you haven’t noticed, your wife and son aren’t exactly enthusiastic about hosting me.”
“I apologize for the cold welcome. My son needs time to get used to the idea.” He checks his watch. “We should get back soon. Lilliana will be arriving shortly. You picked an excellent weekend to come. With my work schedule and the kids’ extracurriculars, the whole family only gets to sit down to dinner once a month.”
“I didn’t exactly choose this weekend,” I remind him.
We make it back to the house just as the sun is setting. The lilac aroma is gone, and I’m beginning to wonder if I imagined it altogether. Rather than invite Chastity to bite my head off, I decide to put on something nicer than ripped jeans and a band tee for dinner. I opt instead for a rose-printed, baby-doll style dress and brown chunky sandals.
Everyone’s already seated around the dining table when I arrive, including a young woman I haven’t met. I figure she must be Lilliana. Unlike her brother, she doesn’t glare at me like she wants to slit my throat. She barely acknowledges me, and when she does, it’s with the same indifference she grants the steamed carrots on her plate.
Chastity clears her throat as I take my seat in the place that’s been set for me, beside Christopher.
“How good of you to finally join us, Miss Greyson,” Chastity says. “I thought you’d gotten lost.”
“Come now, darling,” Edward says. “Mariah’s not the reason we’re sitting down so late. Lilliana, I trust you had a valid reason for forcing us to postpone our scheduled dinner.”
I steal a glance at the young woman across from me. Bathed in the glow from the antique chandeliers, she looks like she could be a model.
Now that the whole family’s here, it strikes me just how good-looking they all are.
Edward and Chastity must be in their forties, but neither appears to be going gray or sprouting more than the tiniest of wrinkles. Lilliana looks like she stepped right off the set of90210. Her spun-gold waves are darker than her mother’s curls, but lighter than Christopher’s chestnut locks. Shiny hair, clear complexions, and bright eyes abound. Not a spare pound or a stray hair among them.
Are these people even human?
