“And new wine money,” she added, and we both laughed.
Over twenty years ago, our families, along with a few hundred other ex-hippies and Deadheads, had followed their mystic teacher, Robson Benedict, to Sonoma County. We had lived communally on several thousand acres of land, and over the years the members planted vineyards as they built their spiritual and artistic community. Today, Dharma was incorporated and everyone in the commune was wealthy, thanks to the grapes we’d grown when we first moved there.
“It’s going to be a big, fun scene,” Robin said. “I’m driving up for the weekend and staying through Tuesday.”
“I’m just staying for the day,” I said. “Anyone want to join me?”
“Suzie and I would love to go,” Vinnie said. “But we have plans. We’re setting up a new installation in Marin.”
“You’re having an art show?” I asked.
“In San Rafael,” Suzie said. “It’s part of their annual Big Art show.”
“It’s a play on words,” Vinnie added. “All the art is very big in size. Do you get it?”
“They get it,” Suzie said.
“Your art is definitely big,” Robin said.
“Thank you,” Vinnie said, bowing her head.
Everyone smiled.
“I would like to go to Sonoma,” Alice said abruptly. “I mean, if it’s okay. I wouldn’t want to—”
“Yes, Alice,” Vinnie piped up before I could answer. “You must go to Dharma. I suggest that you take advantage of Brooklyn’s mother’s knowledge of Ayurvedic massage. It is possible that your chakras are weakened and you might need rebalancing.”
Alice’s eyes widened in alarm.
“Vinnie, don’t scare her with that mumbo jumbo,” Suzie said, and turned to Alice. “Here’s the deal. You spend the day drinking good wine and eating great food. You get a massage, relax, chill out. Brooklyn’s family is wild. You’ll have a good time and come back ready to kick some ass.”
“That pretty much describes the experience,” Robin said.
“It sounds wonderful,” Alice said. “I would love to go.”
“Is Stuart in town yet?” I asked. “He’s welcome to come, too.”
“Oh, no.” Alice frowned. “He would probably love it, but he’s still in Atlanta.”
“Okay,” I said. “We’ll leave around eleven tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll be here.”
Saturday morning was a classically gorgeous San Francisco day, cold and sunny with a sky as blue as a Boucher painting. I took Van Ness north through the Civic Center, past car dealerships and supermarkets, skirting both the dicey Tenderloin and exclusive Nob Hill before reaching Lombard, where I turned left toward the Presidio. I would’ve avoided this route on a weekday but today we zipped along at a smooth pace.
I stayed on Lombard and entered the Presidio, preferring the winding turns and hairpin curves to the straightforward smoothness of Highway 101. As I drove through the park, past the rows of stately, historic wood-framed and brick homes formerly assigned to army officers but now leased to the public, I glanced over at Alice. I had to hide my smile because while I wore jeans, boots, and a bulky sweater, she wore a prim white blouse with a rounded collar tucked into black trousers. She carried a thin black cashmere sweater and a small black shoulder bag. Her trademark velvet headband held her hair away from her face, and there were tiny pearl dot earrings in her ears. No matter what the occasion, she was petite, demure, and sweet. I was none of the above.
We emerged from the wooded Presidio, passed the bridge toll plaza, and drove onto the Golden Gate Bridge. Alice glanced around in wonder. “It’s so beautiful.” She seemed less tense than I’d ever seen her before. That had to be a good thing.
“I love this view,” I said as I took in the green rolling hills of Marin ahead and the blue Pacific Ocean to my left.
“It’s so amazing,” Alice said, sitting up in her seat to try and see over the bridge railing. After thirty seconds, she sat back down and stared at the hills. “I just can’t get over it.”
“You’ve driven across the bridge before, haven’t you?”
“No. I’ve done my share of wandering around the city, but I haven’t ventured much farther yet. There just hasn’t been enough time.”
“Oh, my God. I’m suddenly feeling the weight of responsibility.”
“You hold yourself responsible for me having a good time outside the city?”
“That’s right, and I take it very seriously.”
“Okay then,” she said, laughing. “I expect to be shown a good time.”