The Crush (Oregon Wine Country #1)(11)
“Tomorrow?” Junie’s timely exclamation could be heard over the muted clatter of cutlery on china and the low buzz of conversation.
“That answer your question?” The waitress lifted a sardonic brow as she swooped their menus out of their hands. Manolo watched his new friends share a concerned look.
His phone vibrated.
“Hey, Amanda,” he asked in a low voice, tucking his chin into his neck. “What’d you find out?”
“We don’t have any volunteer opportunities for engineers in the Portland area this summer.”
“Huh. Thanks for looking. Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Your offer is much appreciated. Now, it’s not too late to teach a summer course in ‘Analyzing Earth-Friendly Design Technologies’ outside of Mexico City. It’s classified high-risk because of the current political situation, but I know that doesn’t scare you.”
“I might consider it if I weren’t obliged to work in Oregon this summer.”
“I thought as much, but it doesn’t hurt to ask,” she said with a smile in her voice. “On the other hand, I have some good news about Belize. Your biggest competition for the paid consultancy heard a rumor he’s going to be redeployed. If that turns out to be true, the job is all but yours.”
Manolo glanced over at Junie. Her heated conversation with her mother reminded him of the painful argument he’d had with his dad over joining the Army. He cursed the timing of this phone call. If not for that, he might’ve been able to pick up a word or two of what Junie was saying. But this was important.
“That is good news.”
“Belize is a paradise, and you can still fly back once a month for your Reserves training. But keep in mind, Lieutenant, we’ll need that six-month commitment.”
Junie’s worried face across the room made it hard for him to concentrate.
“Yep.”
Amanda’s laugh was cool and confident, exactly the way he remembered it. “Well, it sounds like you’re preoccupied, so I’ll let you go.”
“Keep me posted.”
“You know I will. It goes without saying, I’d love to have you.”
“You mean for the consultancy.”
“You know what I mean. If you do get the Belize job, I might have to pop down there once in a while, just to make sure you’re behaving yourself.”
Now communication between Junie and her mom seemed to have broken down completely. Junie was toying with her food, her mom looking around the room, tight-lipped.
“Manny?”
“Huh? Yeah. I’ll look forward to that.”
“Me too.”
Chapter Six
A rectangular shaft of light poured into the farmhouse where the front door had sat propped open all morning. Dust motes danced eerily through the living room, recently emptied of the bulk of its furniture.
“Still time to change your mind, honey,” Mom said, her caramel eyes peeping over the box she carried. “I think we could still squeeze in your bedroom suite.” Her chic, short curls waved around her flowered headband. In her mid-fifties, she still had the body of the ballroom dancer she had been when Dad hauled some guy in handcuffs into the ER during her rotation at Fort Sam Houston.
Then again, thought Junie, it’s hard to get fat on fiddleheads and lamb’s quarters.
She tried to clear her head. If she was honest, it made perfect sense for Mom to move to Portland. What would her moving change for Junie, anyway? Mom didn’t take any interest in the day-to-day workings of the vineyard. She didn’t even get home in the evening until after Junie left for work at the Roadhouse.
Junie looked hard at her mother. Though she’d never in her life doubted that she was loved, her mom wasn’t the cuddly, maternal kind. She had the precise, controlled movements of the competitive dancer she had once been combined with the self-assurance of the surgeon she was today.
It would always be a mystery to Junie how an effervescent San Antonio doctor had hooked up with a reticent farmer’s son from the outskirts of Springfield, Missouri like Brendan Hart. But then, marrying Dad was only the first example of Mom’s nearsightedness when it came to men. More than a year ago, to Junie’s dismay, Mom had confided that she’d been fooling around on those dating apps. Every time Mom “found someone,” it ended up that he wasn’t quite what he’d made himself out to be. One of them, it had turned out, was married. Another had pushed her out of his car in the parking lot of a restaurant when she’d turned down his advances.
It wasn’t that she begrudged her mom male companionship. It was Mom’s way of going about it that worried her. When she mentioned her concern to her therapist friend, Red had replied that there were entire books written about smart women who made dumb decisions when it came to love.
Junie sighed. It was going to be lonely in the house without Mom, even if they’d never been particularly close. She’d found comfort in knowing she wasn’t alone at night, down that long country lane. Mom’s simple wave good-bye out her car window in the light of a summer morning had been a sign that there was still some semblance of family left.
Now, under Mom’s supervision, the men who’d come with the truck balanced the sofa half in and half out the door . . . that sofa that Dad had fallen asleep on watching the eleven o’clock news, back when Junie was in high school. The sofa she collapsed onto most nights after her shift at the restaurant, to scare herself silly watching Worst-Case Scenario. Where would she flop now, late at night? She could buy another couch, but it would never be the same.