self-conscious,” Mrs.
Johnson said, worming past Dad to administer simultaneous pats and scowls. “It’s
just that we’re all very concerned about you, child. Very concerned. Deeply
concerned.”
“Thanks.” Honor forced a smile and followed them to the tasting
room. It was really the only comfortable place on the vineyard where everyone
could sit. Downstairs, a long, U-shaped bar dominated the room, but upstairs,
there was a private tasting room for special events—one of Honor’s ideas. That
area was like a giant living room, complete with leather couches, a stone
fireplace and a smaller bar along one wall. The post-and-beam ceiling was
exposed; an old Oriental carpet covered much of the wide-planked floor.
Everyone was there, and heck, there
were just too many people in this family. There were times when being an orphan
held great appeal. David Copperfield never had to go to a family meeting, did
he? Nor did Oliver Twist.
“Thanks for coming,” Honor said to the room at large.
“A catfight?” Goggy blurted. “In a bar? Over a man?”
“I just wish I’d been there,” Pops said, winking at Honor. “You
won, I hope.”
“It’s not funny!” huffed Goggy. “Since when do my grandchildren
fight in bars? I mean, I’d expect that of you, Prudence, but Honor?”
“Why would you expect that of me?” Pru said. “Have I ever been
in a fight? No. I haven’t.”
“Well, I could picture it,” Goggy said. “Though with Carl, not
another woman.”
Honor suppressed a sigh. Pru was colorful, Faith had the looks,
Jack was the perfect son...Honor was what, then?
The boring one.
Which was going to change. Yes.
“Honor definitely won,” Jack said. “You’d all be proud.”
“I never really warmed up to that woman,” Pru said. “Though she
does have great hair.”
“Pass me the cheese,” Pops ordered.
“No more cheese for you!” Goggy said. “You know what it does to
your stomach.”
“Okay, shut up, everyone,” Honor said mildly. Not that she
didn’t love her family. But with four generations present, two brothers-in-law,
Faith, Pru, a teenage niece, a nephew who couldn’t make eye contact without
laughing, her bickering grandparents, Dad and Mrs. Johnson exchanging worried
looks...well, it was feeling a wee bit overwhelming. “Dad, get this over with,
okay? I’d like to make a few changes around here.”
“I have an announcement,” Dad said. “We’re making a few changes
around here.” He seemed to realize he’d just echoed Honor, because he looked at
her in surprise.
“Go ahead,” she said, pouring herself a hefty glass of wine. It
would only help, and besides that, it had a lovely nose of fresh-cut grass,
grapefruit and a hint of limestone.
Dad looked at Honor and put his leathery, grape-stained hand
over hers. “For a long time, I think we’ve all taken Honor for granted.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“She puts in way too many hours, travels all the time, takes
care of a hundred different things,” Dad went on. “Which is why I hired you an
assistant today.”
She blinked. “You did what? Don’t I get a say in who works for
me?”
“Great idea, Dad,” Jack said.
“You can’t just—” Honor began.
“No, sweetie,” Dad went on, his voice quiet but firm. “Mrs.
Johnson and I talked it over—” Uh-oh. If Mrs. Johnson was in on it, she was
doomed. “And it’s done. Also, I think it’s appropriate that Ned—” Dad nodded at
his grandson “—take over half of the sales calls.”
“Half? Not half!” Okay, sure, she’d wanted a little change.
Just not this much. “Look, just because—”
“Finally,” Ned said. “Wish I’d known all I had to do was to get
Honor to punch someone in a barroom brawl—”
“Shut up, son,” Dad continued. “Honor, he’s been tagging along
with you for a year. Time to let him step up.”
“Um, that’s okay, sure. Neddie, you’re great. But we don’t need
to reorganize the vineyard because I had one
Johnson said, worming past Dad to administer simultaneous pats and scowls. “It’s
just that we’re all very concerned about you, child. Very concerned. Deeply
concerned.”
“Thanks.” Honor forced a smile and followed them to the tasting
room. It was really the only comfortable place on the vineyard where everyone
could sit. Downstairs, a long, U-shaped bar dominated the room, but upstairs,
there was a private tasting room for special events—one of Honor’s ideas. That
area was like a giant living room, complete with leather couches, a stone
fireplace and a smaller bar along one wall. The post-and-beam ceiling was
exposed; an old Oriental carpet covered much of the wide-planked floor.
Everyone was there, and heck, there
were just too many people in this family. There were times when being an orphan
held great appeal. David Copperfield never had to go to a family meeting, did
he? Nor did Oliver Twist.
“Thanks for coming,” Honor said to the room at large.
“A catfight?” Goggy blurted. “In a bar? Over a man?”
“I just wish I’d been there,” Pops said, winking at Honor. “You
won, I hope.”
“It’s not funny!” huffed Goggy. “Since when do my grandchildren
fight in bars? I mean, I’d expect that of you, Prudence, but Honor?”
“Why would you expect that of me?” Pru said. “Have I ever been
in a fight? No. I haven’t.”
“Well, I could picture it,” Goggy said. “Though with Carl, not
another woman.”
Honor suppressed a sigh. Pru was colorful, Faith had the looks,
Jack was the perfect son...Honor was what, then?
The boring one.
Which was going to change. Yes.
“Honor definitely won,” Jack said. “You’d all be proud.”
“I never really warmed up to that woman,” Pru said. “Though she
does have great hair.”
“Pass me the cheese,” Pops ordered.
“No more cheese for you!” Goggy said. “You know what it does to
your stomach.”
“Okay, shut up, everyone,” Honor said mildly. Not that she
didn’t love her family. But with four generations present, two brothers-in-law,
Faith, Pru, a teenage niece, a nephew who couldn’t make eye contact without
laughing, her bickering grandparents, Dad and Mrs. Johnson exchanging worried
looks...well, it was feeling a wee bit overwhelming. “Dad, get this over with,
okay? I’d like to make a few changes around here.”
“I have an announcement,” Dad said. “We’re making a few changes
around here.” He seemed to realize he’d just echoed Honor, because he looked at
her in surprise.
“Go ahead,” she said, pouring herself a hefty glass of wine. It
would only help, and besides that, it had a lovely nose of fresh-cut grass,
grapefruit and a hint of limestone.
Dad looked at Honor and put his leathery, grape-stained hand
over hers. “For a long time, I think we’ve all taken Honor for granted.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“She puts in way too many hours, travels all the time, takes
care of a hundred different things,” Dad went on. “Which is why I hired you an
assistant today.”
She blinked. “You did what? Don’t I get a say in who works for
me?”
“Great idea, Dad,” Jack said.
“You can’t just—” Honor began.
“No, sweetie,” Dad went on, his voice quiet but firm. “Mrs.
Johnson and I talked it over—” Uh-oh. If Mrs. Johnson was in on it, she was
doomed. “And it’s done. Also, I think it’s appropriate that Ned—” Dad nodded at
his grandson “—take over half of the sales calls.”
“Half? Not half!” Okay, sure, she’d wanted a little change.
Just not this much. “Look, just because—”
“Finally,” Ned said. “Wish I’d known all I had to do was to get
Honor to punch someone in a barroom brawl—”
“Shut up, son,” Dad continued. “Honor, he’s been tagging along
with you for a year. Time to let him step up.”
“Um, that’s okay, sure. Neddie, you’re great. But we don’t need
to reorganize the vineyard because I had one
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