Late afternoon on Sunday, Daniel returns home from spending the weekend in Ruthie’s bed to find Hugh dozing by the pool. When Daniel clears his throat, Hugh cracks an eyelid. “Finally. I’ve been waiting for you for hours.”
“Looks to me like you were enjoying a little shut-eye while you were waiting.” He touches his son’s pink forearm. “Although you’re going to need some aloe tonight after your shower.”
Hugh glares at him. “Where have you been?”
Daniel lowers himself to the lounge chair beside his son. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I have a lady friend. I’ve been with her all day.”
Hugh looks at Daniel over the top of his aviator sunglass frames. “Oh really. Who?”
“Ruthie Poole. We’ve been seeing each other for years.” After keeping Ruthie a secret for so long, it feels good to finally tell someone.
“Are you kidding me?” Hugh jerks the chair’s back to a sitting position. “Why are you slumming with that blonde dingbat when you could have anyone you want?”
Heat pulses through Daniel’s body. He’s as angry at himself as he is with his son. He used to think the same thing about Ruthie. How mistaken he’s been about her. About so many things. If only he could turn back time. “Actually, Ruthie is too good for me. I’m grateful to have her in my life.”
Hugh lets out a loud humph. “You’re not planning to marry her, are you? I see no reason to complicate your estate planning at this stage in the game.”
Daniel clenches his teeth. “By stage in the game, do you mean the last months of my life?”
“No sense in putting lipstick on a pig,” Hugh says and looks away.
“Why are you here, Hugh? Did you need to see me about something?”
“I wanted to spend some time with you, Dad. I thought maybe we could hit some golf balls, but it’s too late in the day for that now.”
“We could play tennis and have dinner after.” Already on his feet, Daniel says, “Come on, son. I could use the exercise.”
Hugh trips along beside him as he hurries up the bluestone steps to the house. “Seriously, Dad. I haven’t played tennis in years. I don’t even own any tennis clothes.”
“It’s like riding a bike. You’ll pick it back up. And I have some tennis whites you can borrow.”
* * *
Hugh is no match for Daniel on the tennis court. He’s in poor physical shape, and within minutes, Hugh’s face is beet red, he’s sweating like a pig, and he struggles to catch his breath. Daniel beats him six games to love in the first set. When he suggests a second set, Hugh begs off.
“I can’t take any more. You crushed me. Are you sure the doctor didn’t mistake your diagnosis? You seem in excellent shape to me.”
Daniel ignores his son’s question, his lies weighing heavily on him.
After showering in the men’s locker room, Hugh and Daniel stroll over to the main clubhouse, where they are seated at a table for two on the terrace overlooking the eighteenth hole.
The server arrives promptly. Without looking at the menu, Daniel orders a salmon salad and a glass of pinot noir, and Hugh asks for the ribeye steak and a double Maker’s Mark on ice.
“You should consider healthier eating habits, son. The extra weight you’re carrying hindered your ability on the court.”
“I prefer the mental challenge of golf,” Hugh says.
“Actually, tennis has been proven to be equally as mentally challenging as golf.”
Their drinks arrive, and Daniel sips his wine. “Cut to the chase, Hugh. Why did you really come to see me? What is it we need to discuss?”
Hugh gulps down half his drink. “You mentioned you have certain things you’d like to accomplish before . . .”
Daniel raises an eyebrow. “My demise?”
“This isn’t funny, Dad.” Hugh says, draining the whiskey and slamming his glass down on the table. “I want to hear about your projects and offer my assistance.”
“Well, let’s see.” Daniel sits back and crosses his legs. “I’m enlarging the barrel building to encompass both private and public tasting rooms as well as more substantial and updated bottling equipment. I’ll convert the cafe into an upscale bistro and expand the terrace seating area to include a large stone fireplace and fire pits. Once construction is finished next spring, in addition to serving lunch, we’ll also be open for dinner. Of course, I won’t be here to see the completion of these projects.”
Hugh’s eyes meet Daniel’s. “You never know. Maybe you will be. I have some thought about an architect if you haven’t already chosen one.”
“I’m way ahead of you. I’ve been working with an architect for a while, and the plans are almost complete. I’m getting bids now. As soon as I decide which contractor to use, I’ll share the plans with you and your siblings.”
“About them . . . I was wondering how you intend to divvy up your shares in the company. Since I’m the oldest, I should be in control.”
Daniel uncrosses his legs and sits up straight. “So that’s what this is all about? I’ll remind you that things didn’t go so well the last time you were in charge.”
“Whatever,” Hugh says, and signals the server for another drink.
“You should go easy on the booze, son. Drunkenness doesn’t become you.”
“Maybe if you weren’t so difficult to reason with, I wouldn’t have to drink so much,” Hugh snaps.
“I’m not being unreasonable. I’m being practical. Being the oldest doesn’t automatically place you in a position of authority.”
Hugh sits back in his chair with arms over chest. “If not me, then who?”
“Charles is out of the question. He can’t tie his shoelaces without you watching him. Ideally, I’d like to see Sheldon and Casey running the winery and vineyard together. Perhaps you could oversee the bistro.” Daniel presses his lips thin to suppress a smile. He’s intentionally goading his son. Hugh can’t wait for Daniel to die, and Daniel can’t wait to see his son’s face when Hugh finds out he’s been magically cured.
“Seriously, Dad? When’s the last time you saw Sheldon at the vineyard?”
Daniel doesn’t answer, because he can’t remember.
“That’s what I thought. Sheldon hasn’t come to work since his wedding. He’s partnered up with Ollie. He’s collaborating with our primary competition. You should demand his resignation.”
“On the contrary. If Sheldon merged Love-Struck with Foxtail Farm, we’d have the largest vineyard in Virginia. I don’t need to tell you what that would mean for us.”
“That’s a pipe dream. Ollie will never allow it.”
“You never know.” Daniel makes a mental note to discuss the idea with Sheldon while Sheldon is sympathetic about his condition.
Hugh’s drink arrives, and he makes a big show of gulping it all down at once. “As for Casey, I don’t get your obsession with her. Until a few months ago, you had no clue she was alive.”
“And I find that refreshing. She doesn’t carry our family’s baggage.”
“Look, Dad.” Hugh sets down his glass. “I realize I screwed up when I was in charge before. I was obsessed with buying Foxtail Farm and turning it into a luxury resort.” He raises his pointer finger. “I still say it’s a brilliant idea. But I understand now that it’s not the right vision for Love-Struck’s future. Can’t you give me another chance to prove myself?”
Daniel’s guilt gets the best of him, and he puts Hugh out of his misery. “Here’s how this will go, son. I will allocate my shares, so the four of you—Sheldon, Casey, Charles, and you—have equal voting rights. Since you bought Ada out, you already have more shares than the others, which means you’ll get less from me.”
A flush creeps up Hugh’s neck to his face. “How will we decide who’s in charge?”
“That’s up to the four of you. I’ll be gone.”
“What about The Nest? Who gets to live in your house?”
“The house and surrounding gardens belong to the vineyard. Whoever lives there will either pay rent or purchase the house outright at fair market value.” Daniel moves to the edge of his seat. “I’m finding this discussion distasteful. I think I’ll take my dinner home.” He summons the server and asks for her to prepare his order to go.
Hugh hangs his head. “Don’t go, Dad. I’m sorry if I upset you. I truly just want to help you accomplish your objectives.”
“Really?” Daniel rises from his chair and leans over with both hands on the table. “Because you sound like the same what’s-in-it-for-me Hugh you’ve been since you were a child. You’ve always been more than willing to throw your siblings under the bus to get what you want. I won’t allow you to run Love-Struck until you learn to be a team player.”
Hugh’s eyes are dark with anger as he rises out of his chair to face him. “You’re such a hypocrite. When have you ever been a team player? All our lives, you’ve insisted on having complete control over us. You’re the king, and we’re the peasants. You’ve pitted us against each other. It’s like a sport to you, like pit bulls in a dogfight. You wouldn’t know a team player if one smacked you in the ass.”
“You are way out of line, son.” Daniel wags his finger at him. “Keep this up, and I’ll leave you out of my will entirely.”
“There you go again, throwing your weight around. I’ll get control of the vineyard if it’s the last thing I do.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.” Daniel snatches his take-out order from the approaching server and strides angrily across the terrace, ignoring the open stares from other diners.
He calms down enough on the drive home to realize Hugh is right about one thing. Daniel is not a team player, anymore than any of his children are team players. It’ll never work for them to have equal control. Their bickering will have a negative impact on the vineyard. He’ll do exactly what Hugh accused him of. He’ll come up with a plan to pit his children against one another.