“Hey, sis,” Jackson said upon answering. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you’d be around sometime tonight. Derek and I wanted to ask you a question or two.”
I used Derek’s name in case he was inclined to balk. It was a sisterly thing to do.
“What’s this all about?” he asked, sounding ready to balk regardless.
I could’ve lied and told him it was something to do with the vineyards, but he wouldn’t have believed me anyway, so I told him the truth. “We’re wondering if you know anything about Elizabeth. That woman who’s visiting Trudy?”
“Why would I know anything about her?”
So male, really. He didn’t answer; he just asked another question. Which told me that my brother knew something he didn’t want to talk about.
“Well, you were acting weird last week when I was about to introduce her to you. Remember how you disappeared? And then you canceled dinner? And now we have a situation. . . .”
“A situation?”
It was just as well that he stopped me, because I was blathering, digging myself into a hole. “Yeah. So will you be around tonight?”
Jackson didn’t answer right away, and I thought maybe he’d hung up on me. He was an elusive guy, so I never knew quite how to deal with him. But he was my brother and I loved him, so I was prepared to pester the heck out of him until I got an answer.
“Hello?” I said. “Are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, although I could hear the annoyance in his tone. I didn’t care. I’d heard that tone in his voice all my life.
“Listen,” he said finally, “how about if you guys come by the winery tonight around eight? We’re having a barrel tasting this afternoon, and I’ll just be finishing up then. We can have a glass of wine and talk.”
“That would be perfect.” Better than perfect, I thought, because there would be wine. “Thanks, Jackson.”
“See you then.”
He ended the call, and I immediately telephoned Derek to let him know what we were doing that night.
*
I spent the rest of the afternoon sweeping the gutters of each page of the Journey and then bringing new life back to the raised bands on its spine. I reattached the leather cover and rubbed it with leather cleaner until it was gleaming.
Before I was ready to quit for the day, I took a half hour to cut and pare down the leather for the next medical text cover. I also wrapped the text block in wax paper and then packed up my bags to go home.
When I arrived, I found Derek working in the office with Maggie asleep at his feet.
I gave Derek a smooch on the lips and asked, “Where’s Charlie?”
“She’s dozing in my lap,” he said, wrapping his arm around my waist. “Otherwise I’d have you sitting there.”
I laughed. “I’ll have to wait my turn.”
He glanced back at his computer screen. “I’m just waiting for one more e-mail before I quit for the day. Then we can grab a bite to eat and go meet your brother.”
We decided on Chinese food and drove a mile outside of Dharma to the best Asian fusion restaurant in the world—or in Sonoma, at least.
At eight o’clock, Derek parked in the winery’s lot, and we walked into its cavernous bowels, looking for Jackson. The place was empty and the lights were dimmed. It was obvious that the barrel tasting had been over for some time.
“Hello?” I called. “Jackson?”
“I’m over here,” my brother shouted from the other side of the warehouse-sized barrel room.
The room was kept cool, and I suppressed a shiver as we walked past a dozen massive, stainless steel vats that held thousands of gallons of wine. We found Jackson standing against the far wall at a wine-barrel table surrounded by three stools.
“Hey, Derek,” he said, and the two shook hands.
I gave him a hug and took a seat at the table.
Jackson grabbed the bottle. “I’ll pour you some of the reserve Meritage we were tasting earlier.”
“Wonderful,” Derek said, straddling the stool next to me.
As he poured, Jackson gave a short lecture on the Meritage concept. The word was applied when at least two grape varieties were blended together, as long as none of the varieties made up more than ninety percent of the final merging. So it was a true blend, and it usually included cabernet sauvignon and merlot grapes.
Meritage was actually the name of an association formed by local winemakers in the Napa Valley back in the day, after many of them voiced frustration with the U.S. labeling requirements and decided to form their own brand. They combined the words merit and heritage to create a name for both their new alliance and their new blending style.
“There’s more to it,” Jackson said, “but that’s enough for tonight. Let’s taste it.”
I took my first sip, rolling the dark red liquid around my mouth and tongue. “It’s yummy.”