“Dude, think about who you are trying to impress. Bring out the big guns,” Cassidy told me.
I nodded in assent. “Your best tux,” I told the little man who scampered away. Cassidy was right. I needed to show Viola I wasn’t just a hippie farmer. I was worthy of being at her side.
“Oh! Speaking of, guess who called,” Cassidy said then, waggling my phone at me.
I took it from her hand to see that Viola had called while I was wiggling in and out what seemed like an endless line of ill-fitting suits. “No message,” I muttered aloud.
“Nah, I answered it. Told her you were tied up.”
“You answered my phone?”
She nodded then pulled out her own cell. “Crap. Twyla called too. I need to call her back, and I’m getting late,” she said then rose, gathering up her things.
“Wait, what did Viola say?”
“Uh…just to tell you she called. So, don’t cheap out on the tux, all right?”
I nodded. “Thanks for your help.” Cassidy and I didn’t spend a lot of time together, but when we did, there was a certain kinship between us. It was nice to be around someone who knew what I was. She was, undoubtedly, pretty, but not my taste. She was too fey, never taking life too seriously. I wanted someone with more drive, someone like Viola.
“Welcome! Oh, got a lead on a prom date. Fencing lessons. Skyla was right. There’s a real prospect there. Nice kid. Good family. Just one swish of the wand, and I’ll be all set.”
I laughed. “Well done.”
“And you?”
“We found Alice a Frenchman.”
“You and your bees. I need to get some bees.”
“You do great with your wand. I was never any good at it.”
With that, Cassidy pulled out the long silver pin that was holding her hair into a bun. The single hair pin looked like nothing fancy at first glance, but on closer inspection, one could see that the silver had an extra special shimmer, and the jewel on the eye of the swan figure at the top of the pin glimmered unusually.
“You just need practice,” she said then gave her wand a wave. I saw the air around her shimmer as she chanted:
Like a glove, let it fit
With weeds of black across his hip
And may Viola see delight
In Rayne’s eyes tomorrow night
The glimmering light from Cassidy’s wand sparkled all around me then traveled out of the dressing room toward the shop.
A moment later, we both heard the little salesman exclaim, “Ah-ha! I know just the one!”
“We aren’t supposed to use it on one another,” I whispered, feeling grateful all the same.
“What, you gonna tell on me? You owe me one. See ya,” she said then, sticking her wand back into her mound of hair. With a wave, she headed out of the little shop.
“Here we are. Let’s try this one,” the salesman said, returning with yet another suit. This time, however, I could see just from the look of the fabric that Cassidy’s spell had worked. “I forgot I had this one. It came in a few weeks back, and I was planning to return it to the company. But I think this will do the trick,” he said, leading me back into the dressing room.
Setting the phone aside for a moment, I followed the little man. More than anything, I wanted Viola to walk into the ball on my arm feeling happy, confident, and appreciated. If a simple suit could help to show her that, then it was easily done. I would do anything to make her happy.
Chapter 12: Viola
I parked my car in the winery parking lot just as Jessica, the tasting room hostess, escorted a small group outside. They were making their way to Roger, our wine educator, who was waiting at the edge of the vineyard. The tasting tours were already getting busy. Genevieve was right; spring was hopping this year.
“They’re back by the Chancellors,” Jessica called to me, referring to the section of the vineyard where we grew our signature Chancellor grapes.
I slipped off my heels, trading them for the pair of work boots that I always kept in the trunk, then headed into the vineyard. Since it was early spring, chartreuse-colored leaves were uncurling on the vines. While I’d never had any formal education in viticulture, I knew my vines. I’d grown up in the vineyard, chasing Horatio through row after row of grapes, our mother singing show toons as she tracked us down, our father grumbling under his breath. While things were better now, both Horatio and I had grown up feeling like an inconvenience to our father. I must have been in my teens when I stopped caring what my dad thought. As long as I smiled, minded my manners, and did what I was told, Dad was happy. Over time, I’d steeled myself to Dad’s moods. What did I care if he was disappointed in me? He was always disappointed in someone. When Mom died, Dad hit rock bottom, becoming a total bastard. Around Halloween, however, everything had changed. For the first time in our lives, our dad actually seemed to have a genuine interest in Horatio and me. Sometimes, it felt worse knowing that he cared. It had been easier to ignore him. Now, I had to figure out my father all over again just as I was trying to figure out myself. I sighed heavily and let my fingers dance across the new leaves. I missed Mom. She would have loved Julie…and Rayne. And she would have been able to tell me what to do next.
As the thought crossed my mind, I heard a soft buzz of a bee and was surprised to see a small insect hovering just before me. I suppressed every instinct I had to swat it away. After all, if it belonged to Rayne, it was just out hunting pollen. Of course, if Rayne was playing with Cassidy and me, there was no bee in the world big enough to quell my fury.
“Go tell Rayne he better not be sleeping with Cassidy or I’m going to kill him,” I told the bee who dodged from side to side then set off.
I laughed, shaking my head, then followed the sound of Dad’s and Horatio’s voices. They were standing at the edge of the vineyard surveying an empty field. Horatio was still dressed in a business suit, but Dad was wearing jeans. It was unusual to see my dad dressed so casually. It looked…awkward.
“Plotting world domination?” I called.
Horatio turned and smiled at me, but he had an odd expression on his face. He looked…nervous? Okay, seriously, what was going on?
“No, plotting sparkling wine,” my father answered.
The enologist in me immediately got to thinking, considering which grapes and what processes would work best. For years I’d tried to convince my dad to brew a sparkling wine. And now, just when I wanted to leap into a new trade, he was finally considering it. “Well, that is news.”
“I thought you’d be pleased,” Dad said with a smile. “Your mother always liked this view,” he said, looking across the field toward the lake. “Roger has been monitoring this section of the vineyard for the last two seasons. He says the climate will sustain the grapes we need. Maybe you can talk to him, Viola?”
“Sure,” I said. “I’d love to. I have a whole notebook full of ideas somewhere.”
My dad smiled. “Thought so. And, now that you’re here, maybe Horatio will finally spit out whatever he’s been trying to tell me for the last half an hour.”
I laughed. “You do look pale,” I told my brother who smiled at me. “Never could hide your emotions.”
Horatio grinned. “Well, I have some good news, I think.”
My dad bent to pick a dandelion which he then handed to me.