The Vineyard by Barbara Delinsky Page B

“The weather’s ripe for it.” He turned to Olivia. “Farming is never easy.” He gestured toward the door. “I brought your bags over to the wing. Didn’t know which went in which room, though.”
    Olivia had been planning to get their luggage herself. “You didn’t have to do that.”
    â€œYes, I did. We want you here. I’m doing my part to get you securely installed before anything changes your mind.” He said the last with an odd gravity and turned to Natalie. “We lost Paolo. He’s leaving with Marie.” Both names were spoken beautifully, with just the hint of an accent that didn’t seem Irish at all.
    Natalie hung her head. After a minute, with a resigned sigh, she told Olivia, “An operation like ours requires a fair amount of large equipment. In addition to helping out Simon, Paolo is our in-house mechanic—was our in-house mechanic. I wasn’t joking when I mentioned a hornet’s nest. We’re having something of a house revolt here.”
    Olivia looked from one face to the other. “All because of the
wedding?”
    Natalie moved closer to Carl. Their hands met, linked, found an unobtrusive spot behind Natalie’s back, but Olivia noticed. Any romantic would. It was a sweet gesture, the sign of a sharing of strength, and all the more meaningful for its privacy. Olivia was touched.
    â€œIt isn’t only the wedding,” Natalie said. “It’s Al’s death. He courted these people. He gave them flowers on their birthdays and handed out Christmas bonuses. Me, I was the taskmaster. I told them what needed to be done. If a floor was mopped once and felt sticky, I had it mopped again. If the silver had tarnish on its back side, I wanted it repolished. I’ve never been one to like leaving a job half done. Unfortunately, that ruffles feathers sometimes. So Alexander was the one who did the stroking. He applied salve after I cracked the whip. He was the good guy, I was the bad guy. They felt that they lost their best friend when he died.”
    â€œAnd now she’s marrying me,” Carl picked up. “Some of them feel betrayed.”
    â€œThey don’t understand what we feel,” Natalie told him.
    â€œWell, they
should,”
he insisted with more fire than Olivia had yet seen. “These people aren’t strangers to affairs of the heart. Paolo was mooning over Marie for twelve years before she took notice, and Anne Marie, the receptionist in the business office, just announced that once her divorce is final, she’s marrying her high school sweetheart from thirty years back.”
    Natalie’s eyes widened. “Is she leaving, too?”
    â€œNo, but she could be sticking up for us more than she is—not that it would help much, what with the business office being apart from the rest.”
    Natalie explained to Olivia, “Asquonset has three divisions. The vineyard produces the grapes. The winery turns the grapes into wine. The corporate staff gets the wine into restaurants and stores. Since the corporate offices are housed way over on the far side of our land, the staff there is isolated.” She took a tired breath. “Our accountant just left, but we saw that coming. He was a longtime friend of my late husband and has been threatening to retire for years. The others on the corporate side are newer and younger. They live in local towns and work nine to five, with four weeks’ paid vacation a year, health care, retirement funds, and so on. They won’t leave. Norwill anyone at the winery. Success begets loyalty, and we’ve been very successful. Our wine maker has built a name for himself in viticultural circles in part because of the freedom and money we give him to work with. So
he
won’t leave.”
    â€œThe problem,” Carl picked up, “is with employees who’ve been here awhile. Some, like the accountant, are reaching retirement age