The Apple Orchard

Twenty-Six



The shadow of the bank’s deadline loomed like a gathering storm. The strain was wearing on Isabel; Tess could hear her pacing the floors at night. Still, they never gave up the search. So far, every avenue had led to a dead end, yet Tess couldn’t stop herself from believing the puzzle could be solved. She was hanging on by a thread to her job in the city but this was too important to abandon.

Thanksgiving Day at Bella Vista dawned damp and gloomy, an inauspicious start to the festivities. Tess wandered into the kitchen while it was still dark and staggered toward the carafe of coffee and steamed milk Isabel always set out.

“You’ve been up for hours,” she said to Isabel.

Isabel was working on the turkey with single-minded focus, slipping fresh sage leaves and butter under the skin and monitoring a delicious-smelling broth on the rangetop. “Since five,” she admitted.

“What can I do?”

“Drink your coffee. If you want, you could set the table—I’ve made a seating chart.”

“You’re kidding.”

“It’s a good-sized crowd this year. We’ve got Father Tom coming. The Navarros, of course; Ernestina’s making her famous tamales. Dominic and his kids, and his sister, Gina. You’re going to love Gina.”

Tess studied the penciled chart. “My mother?”

“I invited her.”

“And she said yes? Okay, I’m finally ready to admit it. Your food does have magic powers.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent Thanksgiving with her mother. It was one of those family-oriented holidays that made people without families feel like crap. In the past, she’d sneaked away to Vegas, or to Vancouver, where it was just another day. One year, she’d joined a crew from the firm serving dinner at the Tenderloin Sheltering Arms. But never had she spent the holiday like this—with friends and family.

She sipped her coffee and went into the dining room. There was already a fire crackling cheerfully in the fireplace, the flames illuminating the morning frost on the windows. The big rustic table of hewn pine and hammered iron dominated the room. Ernestina said it was original to the house, more than a hundred years old. Tess tried to imagine the family gatherings the table had seen. Where had Erik sat? Did he have a favorite food? Had his wife, Francesca, brought traditions of her own into the family? On the last Thanksgiving of his life, had Erik thought of Shannon while feasting with his wife and family?

And now Shannon, the sole survivor of that generation, was going to take her place at Bella Vista’s table at last. Tess couldn’t imagine what Isabel had said to entice her back to Archangel.

According to the penciled seating chart, Tess would be between Dominic and Shannon. Isabel had seated Father Tom at the head of the table, with herself at his right hand. Interesting. There was a place setting for Magnus, she noticed, at the other end of the table. She set it with care, as if he might come walking in at any moment.

“I can finish that for you,” Ernestina said, bustling into the room with a centerpiece of stargazer lilies and dried milkweed, a trio of slender candles in the middle. “You go help in the kitchen.”

“That’s like asking me to help Rembrandt paint,” Tess objected.

“She’s very gifted, isn’t she?” Ernestina fussed over the centerpiece.

“I wonder why she never pursued it as a career.”

“Maybe she will, one day.” Ernestina paused. “Maybe she’ll have to.” Tess’s expression must have betrayed her, because Ernestina added, “I know about the foreclosure. I know Bella Vista will have to be sold.”

Tess nodded, her chest tight with regrets. “There’s enough for wages through the end of the year, but after that...”

“After that we’ll need a miracle.”

“Right.”

“Go help your sister.”

Tess returned to the kitchen. She paused in the doorway, watching Isabel arranging the turkey in a roasting pan. She worked with unconscious grace, and whatever she was thinking made her luminous, her eyes soft, her mouth turned into a tiny smile. Or maybe she wasn’t thinking at all. When Isabel cooked, she did it with love.

“Ernestina made the prettiest centerpiece,” said Tess.

“She has a knack. She makes candles from local beeswax, too.”

“We should take a Thanksgiving dinner to Magnus in the hospital,” Tess said. “I mean, I know he can’t eat it, but...maybe it’s silly...”

“It’s a lovely thought. I say we do it.” Isabel motioned her over to the sideboard. “You’re going to make the dressing.”

“Oh, no. No way. You’re not saddling me with that. Dressing polarizes people. I am not going to be responsible for making the dressing everyone will remember as the worst in Thanksgiving history.”

“It’s going to be delicious. Get another cup of coffee, and then I’ll show you.”

They worked side by side, and Tess found it unexpectedly relaxing, all the chopping and mixing, chatting with her sister while she worked. Eventually, the talk drifted to speculation about their father. What had happened? What was Carlos Maldonado’s part in the drama? It was still a puzzle, the solution dangling just out of reach.

The day lightened, though the weather stayed damp and gloomy, the sky a dramatic iron-gray. The kitchen windows steamed up from the cooking, and the smells that filled the air nearly made Tess swoon.

At midmorning, Charlie clamored at the back door, and it swished open. In walked Dominic on a swirl of cold wind, the kids right behind him. He carried a wooden wine crate, and the kids had bunches of amber-colored mums.

The dizzying heart rush was by now a familiar sensation to Tess. She no longer even bothered to pretend she wasn’t crazy about him.

“Hey, you,” he said, coming up behind her and nuzzling her cheek.

“You’re indecently early,” she accused, practically melting against him. “We’re still in our bathrobes.” She felt the children watching them. “Hi, guys,” she said.

“Don’t worry, we know Dad likes you,” Antonio said.

“He does, does he?”

“He like likes you,” the little boy added.

Tess grinned. “Good to know.”

“Can we watch the Thanksgiving Day parade?” asked Trini.

“Sure,” said Isabel, washing her hands. “I’ll put the TV on in the family room.”

The kids followed her out of the kitchen. Tess nestled her cheek against Dominic’s shoulder, inhaling his scent. Then she turned in his arms, took his face between her hands and lifted up on tiptoe to kiss him.

“This feels like my lucky day,” he said. “What’s that for?”

She laughed. “Because I like you.”

He skimmed his knuckles along her jawline. “The feeling’s mutual.”

Rising up on tiptoe, she whispered, “I love you, Dominic Rossi. I never want to leave you.”

“Sorry, what? That’s my bad ear.”

“I...” Tess was appalled at herself. Had she really just said that? She was just so caught up in this tumult of emotion, she no longer trusted herself. She was afraid to say it again, afraid he might not welcome her declaration, afraid she might be fooling herself about this man. She gave him another kiss. “Tell you what. I’m going to take the kids some hot chocolate and watch the parade with them.”

“I heard that,” said Isabel, returning to the kitchen. “You still have to finish making the dressing.”

“I will, I promise,” Tess said. “After hot chocolate, okay?”

A few minutes later, she was hunkered down with Trini and Antonio, keeping a tally of the floats. “What’s the coolest one so far?” she asked.

“Godzilla, for sure,” said Antonio.

“Tintin’s my favorite,” said Trini. “I’m collecting all the books.”

“I like the giant wedge of cheese myself,” said Tess. “How’s the hot chocolate?”

“Good.” Antonio swirled his spoon in his mug. “Can I have another marshmallow?”

“In the kitchen.”

“So do you really like my dad?” Trini asked after he’d gone.

“Yes,” Tess said, unequivocally. It felt ridiculously good to say it. But...love? Did she? Could she?

“I can tell you like him. I can tell by the way you sometimes stare at his mouth.”

“You’re very observant.”

“Are you in love with him?”

Yes. “I might be, one of these days.”

“That’s nuts. Either you love somebody or you don’t.”

“It’s not always so simple. You have to like someone first, and sometimes it grows and turns into love.”

“How does that happen?”

“It’s...mysterious. You just like someone more and more, and eventually you realize you love him.”

“My dad, you mean.”

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Good lord, had she really just told Dominic’s child she was falling in love with him?

“How long does it take?”

“It’s different for different people. Love takes time.”

“I loved Iggy as soon as Dad brought him home. I didn’t know him, and then he walked through the door, and wham—I loved him.”

“Sometimes it works that way, too,” Tess said. “I bet when you were born, your dad took one look at you, and he felt the wham.”

“I don’t get why love stops.”

“That’s a hard one. Sometimes it’s just a mystery. It doesn’t always stop, though.”

“She’s right,” Dominic said quietly from the doorway.

“No fair eavesdropping,” Tess said, her cheeks burning even hotter. “We’re having girl talk.”

“I speak girl,” he said.

“Barely,” Trini muttered.

“Hey.” He took her mug and set it aside, then scooped her onto his lap.

Watching them, Tess finally put a name to the crazy ride of emotions that had taken her over. She was in love.

With Dominic Rossi.

But more than that, she loved his children, and his life in Archangel. She had come to savor the languid pace of the small town, the orchards and vineyards, the neighborly charm of farm stands and homemade goods, shared meals and living close to nature.

The life she thought she wanted had silently, stealthily fallen away as her heart opened up to something brand-new. Everything she used to think was important had changed. She was in love for the first time. It felt exhilarating and risky, like jumping off a cliff and discovering she could fly.

* * *

“You look different,” said her mother, adding vodka to the shaker of spiced cranberry cocktails. She wasn’t much of a cook, but she knew her bar drinks, and this was her contribution to the feast.

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Tess. “I suppose I’ve gained weight, with all of the incredible food here.” Suddenly self-conscious, she smoothed a hand down the front of her sweater.

“Taste.” Her mother strained a drink into a crystal highball glass. “Tell me if it needs anything.”

“Delicious,” she said.

A shout went up from the adjacent family room, where everyone was watching the football game. “Go, go, go, go, score!” It turned out Father Tom, the Navarros and Dominic had some bets going, and the action was ramping up. The priest, once a quarterback for Gonzaga, was utterly cutthroat about winning.

“More cinnamon?” asked Shannon.

“No, I think the cinnamon stick in the glass is just right.”

“It’s not that you’ve gained weight,” Shannon mused. “It’s something else....”

“I needed a break from work. Jude claims I’m committing career suicide, though.”

“Are you?” her mother asked sharply.

Tess was actually able to laugh at that. “I’m good at what I do. If Sheffield lets me go, I’ll find something else. Something better.” The very thought of losing a job she loved used to send her in a panic. Now she felt a new kind of confidence. The foolish kind, probably.

Shannon put the finishing touches on the cranberry cocktails and handed one to Tess. “Not to toot my own horn, but these are going to do justice to Isabel’s appetizers. Cheers.”

“Cheers, Mom.” Tess took a small sip of her drink. “I’m glad you came back,” she added.

“You’re going to be even gladder when I tell you what I found out about Carlos Maldonado.”

“What?”

“You didn’t think I was simply going to walk away from you when you needed me, did you?” Shannon looked at her for a moment, then sighed. “You did think that. Tess, I went away because I wanted to help you. I didn’t make any promises, because I wasn’t sure I was going to find any information you don’t already have. One of my researchers used to be a forensics archivist for the state patrol, and he supplied some details of Erik’s accident. Oh, and I visited Beatrice, his widow.”

Tess was stunned. “What did you find out?”

“That there’s still hope of finding the egg. Carlos Maldonado was not the hero his father was. According to his widow, he had a bad gambling problem. He needed money, and he needed it fast.”

“The egg,” said Tess, her grip tightening on her glass. “He must have realized its value. It didn’t keep him from drowning, though, almost immediately after Erik—my father—was killed.”

“My friend in the highway department doesn’t think the drowning was an accident. It’s classified as a cold case—unsolved. But Beatrice gave me an interesting tip. She drove away from the Maldonado estate with nothing but the clothes on her back, her little girl and a trunk full of odds and ends.” Shannon polished off her drink and poured another. “Now you’ve got problems. You’re going to have to pay a visit to Dominic’s ex.”