“I never asked that of you, son.”
“You didn’t have to. Like I said. Whatever it takes.” Squatting, he opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out the hand broom and dustpan. Then he turned and swept up the largest pieces of the plate he’d broken.
“I should never have let you do so much after your mother left.”
Derek peeked up.
Dad’s head was in his hands. “I thought it would help you, to give you a purpose, but I didn’t realize I’d actually given the impression that everything was on your shoulders.”
“What do you mean?” Frowning, Derek returned to the cleanup. He’d need to grab a vacuum, but that could wait. This conversation was too important to be interrupted. “You knew I was doing all of that?”
“Of course I knew. You were only ten years old. I would never have put that weight on you.” His dad’s voice rang with conviction. Then he barked out a staccato laugh. “I paid Jorge extra to give you some things to do, watch out for you, and redo anything you didn’t get right.”
“I had no idea.” Derek scooped the last visible bits of the broken plate into the dustpan and tossed them into the trash. “You were so torn up about Mom. I thought I was helping you.”
The bitterness of the truth settled in his mouth. Much as he’d tried to help, he’d really only been a nuisance to poor Jorge. The man was a saint to have put up with him back then.
He reached for the pan Heather had used to cook the taco meat, and the scent of the leftover spicy seasonings inflamed his nose.
“Yes, I was torn up about your mother, but never so much that I forgot about you.” A pause. “And you helped more than you know. You and your sisters saved me from my grief. You were my gift in the darkness.”
The back of his eyes burned, and Derek scrubbed the pan in front of him harder. “I’m glad to have that all cleared up, but what about the here and now? What do we do about the vineyard?”
Dad sighed. “I’ve been going over it every which way, and I’ve approached some other vineyards for partnerships, but so far nothing has worked out.”
Wait, what? “Why didn’t you say anything to me about that?” He let his hands rest in the soapy water as he directed his gaze once more at Dad.
“I didn’t want to burden my children with my mistakes. I got us into this mess with all of those medical bills. I thought I needed to dig us out of the hole I’d made. Sounds like we both suffer from the same stubborn affliction, huh?”
Derek smirked. “Guess so.”
“Maybe we need to work together to make this thing a success.”
He finished up the last of the dishes, then pulled the plug on the drain. “I like the sound of that.” Drying his hands on a towel, he slipped around the island and took the seat next to Dad. “I know the ideas I’ve come up with aren’t much, but they’re something.”
“I’m intrigued by the events idea. What would it take to get licensed?”
“I’m not positive. There’s some obscure law from the eighties about not allowing events to take place at wineries because they wanted to preserve the land for agricultural use. But I’m guessing we can petition the city council to revoke or revisit that law.”
Dad reached for the cookie jar next to him and pulled out an Oreo. “And if it’s really as easy as all that, maybe you can work with Ashley to book some weddings here in the near future.”
Aw, man.
When he’d told Dad about breaking things off with Claire, he’d failed to mention Ashley. Mostly because by then, that had been a failure too. And now, three days after things had ended so terribly, he’d finally gone almost a full hour without thinking of her.
But how easy it was for the mere mention of her to crash against his chest, making it difficult to breathe.
“Yeah, sure.” Derek crammed his hand into the jar and grabbed three cookies for himself.
“Something you need to talk about?” His dad scrutinized Derek’s dessert.
Ignoring him, Derek twisted open a cookie, then dropped it as a memory assailed him.
Ashley dunked her Oreo into her cup and took a bite. “Mmm. Milk makes Oreos taste so much better.”
Derek rolled his eyes. “That’s no way to eat an Oreo. You’ve got to lick off all the cream first and eat the chocolate pieces separately.”
Laughing, she reached for another. “I’ll try it your way, then.”
“Just like that?”
“Why not?” She split the cookie and handed him half. “What’s life without a little adventure?”
“Eating cookies is not an adventure.”
“But sharing them with friends is.”
He shoved the two pieces of Oreo aside, then turned toward his dad. “How did you get over Mom?”
If his dad was surprised by the question, he didn’t show it. Just chewed his cookie thoughtfully and wiped his fingers with a napkin, then swigged from a water bottle. “I’m not sure you ever get over someone you love. They become part of you. So does the pain.”
Scrubbing a hand across his face, Derek groaned. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“But.” His dad scooted another cookie across the counter toward Derek. “That pain eventually lessens with time. And the lessons you learned get sharper.”
“See, the lesson I figured you’d have learned is to not trust women again. And yet you and Nancy seem happy enough.”
“We’re very happy. I’d have been a fool if I let one woman’s unfaithfulness and instability make up my mind about the whole gender. Some people can let you down, but you don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater. Because people are also what makes life beautiful.” He placed his hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Think about this. Why is the vineyard worth saving?”
“It’s our legacy.”
“You going to care about a legacy after you’re gone?”
Derek shrugged.
“So try again. Why is the vineyard worth saving?”
“Because it means
