Anything for You (Blue Heron #5)(74)

“The distance was there long before Savannah. You just didn’t notice.”

“It seems to have gotten worse.”

“Well, yeah. Come on, Dad. You made a laughingstock out of my mother. The middle-aged man with a hot babe on the side, proving his virility by getting her pregnant.”

“But Gail and I have been married for almost eleven years now. Even your mother has found someone else. She’s even getting married again. And I’m a good father to Savannah, aren’t I?” The question wasn’t boasting. He wanted an answer.

“You are,” Connor conceded. “Listen, I have work to do. Congratulations on the baby. I hope everything goes well.”

“That’s it?”

“Did you think there’d be more?”

Pete looked at the table. “I guess not.”

“I’m not trying to punish you, Dad,” Connor said. “I just don’t want anything from you.”

His father flinched. “Got it.”

Connor stood up and went back into the kitchen. Through the window, he could see his father, sitting at the table for another minute before getting up to leave.

Did Pete think they were going to toss a ball around? Go camping together? They hadn’t done that when Connor was ten.

It was strange, therefore, that he felt an unsettling sense of guilt all the same.

* * *

JESSICA LEFT BLUE HERON for lunch, something she didn’t often do. “I hear you’re sleeping with my son,” Jeanette said as Jess went through the tasting bar.

“Oh...hi, Jeanette.” Jess felt the blush creep up from her chest.

“I approve, don’t worry,” the other woman said. “Hey, I just had a thought. Would you like to be one of my bridesmaids? Colleen’s my matron of honor, and Paulie’s a bridesmaid, and Carol Robinson was saying that older women never get to be in wedding parties, so she’s in, too. What do you say? It’d be nice to have my son’s girlfriend here. Maybe you two will be next.” She beamed at Jessica and raised her eyebrows.

Oh, God. What had Connor been telling people? Jess took a steadying breath. “What a nice offer, Jeanette.” She’d never been a bridesmaid before, but serving at Jeanette’s...it was an odd thought. A sweet thought, too.

“Guess what!” Marcy burst in the front door, shaking the rain from her hair like a puppy. “I just got John Holland approved as justice of the peace! Is that freaking genius or what? People can have the owner of the vineyard perform their ceremony! What a fantastic idea! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before! High five, Jeanette! Hey, you want him to do you and the Chicken King?”

“Oh, what a great idea! Our daughters are best friends, after all.”

It was a good idea. “Nice job,” Jessica said. She’d give credit where it was due. Who wouldn’t want John Holland performing the ceremony? Marcy was right.

Since the press release, Marcy had been doing more and more PR. Well, she’d been trying to. She suggested events for the vineyard, though none of them had been green-lighted; at this point in the year, the calendar was full with everything from a full-moon ride in a horse-drawn wagon to Wags and Wine, a pet show/wine tasting. Again, all Jess’s domain, all firmly under control, all proven successes.

But at this week’s staff meeting, Marcy had spoken up again. “I don’t know if you do this kind of thing, but it might be really motivational if we hosted a sales retreat this fall,” Marcy had said, going on to suggest contests and prizes for those who sold the most wine at the tasting bar, opened new accounts in stores and restaurants, came up with new promotions for the vineyard. “If it’s in the budget, we could have a weekend retreat at a nice resort, or down in the city, complimentary massages or tickets to a show.”

It was a great idea, and one that Jessica actually considered, as well. Almost to the letter. She’d outlined the idea about six months ago, but held off; a lot of companies did this kind of thing, but it was expensive, too, and the vineyard had taken a bit of a hit with all the snow last winter.

But Honor had considered it, asked a few questions and made a note on her iPad, all while Jessica mentally chastised herself for not going ahead with it. The worst they could say was no; she shouldn’t have been so hesitant.

Well. That was water under the bridge, and Jess had a big lunch meeting today. Her, Davey...and Connor.

She got to Keuka Candle Factory where Davey and about ten other people worked, packing cardboard boxes with the different variety of candles.

“Hi, Jess!” called Petra, the manager.

“Hi, Jess!” Davey echoed. He ran over and hugged her.

“Oh, you smell good,” she said, kissing his cheek. “What flavor is that?”

“Woolly Sweater,” he said proudly.

“Yummy. You ready for lunch?”

They drove to the nearest Chicken King franchise, since A) the food was amazing, if loaded with cholesterol, and B) Connor’s mother was marrying the owner, and it made Jeanette happy to hear Jess was going there, and also, C) Davey did better controlling his outbursts if he was in public.

Because an outburst would surely be coming.

Today was the day she was telling Davey about Connor. And yes, she was afraid. That time when Chico Three was a puppy, Davey had put the fear of God into her. It had been his worst outburst ever. Last fall, he’d had another one when he’d seen Connor at the grocery store one night and Connor helped Jess by reaching for something on the top shelf. That rage storm hadn’t been as bad, but still pretty dreadful; she’d had to drag him out of the store, then go back the next day to pay for all the bananas and apples Davey had thrown, only to find that Connor had already taken care of it.