Chapter 29
When they got to the winery later that day, it was crawling with more workers and trucks than Sake had ever seen. “What’s going on?”
“Looks like the crush has started,” said Bill. “They say everything else in a grower’s life gets put on hold when they’re bringing in the grapes. Once they’re picked, they have to be processed right away, no matter what time of the day or night.”
When Sake and Bill walked into the kitchen, her sisters stopped talking midsentence. Then they each uttered some lame excuse, got up from their chairs, and left the room.
Sake sniffed. “Welp, it’s official. I suck at being a sister.”
“They’ll get over it.” Bill’s deliberately blank expression didn’t fool Sake. That was only to keep her from getting upset all over again.
But what did Sake expect? The first time she’d shown up here, for the wedding, her sisters had let bygones be bygones, not blaming Sake for her mother’s sins. Expecting them to welcome her back into the fold a second time, after she’d turned her back on them and all they represented to go back to San Francisco with an epic loser like Rico? That was beyond the pale.
Jeanne bustled in from the direction in which her sisters had gone. “Sake.” She took her by the shoulders, kissing each cheek in turn. “Thank God you came home.”
“You’re not . . . mad?”
“Angry? Of course not. Your papa told me what happened in San Francisco. We were both worried sick about you. We are only relieved to have you back.”
“Where is Papa?”
“Outside with his vineyard manager. They began picking sauvignon blanc before dawn. But I assure you, he will be in as soon as he can get away to wish you a happy birthday.”
She took Sake’s arm in hers. “Come into the dining room. I have something to show you.”
Bill followed behind them.
“Surprise!”
Sake’s hand flew to her mouth. There, toasting her with champagne flutes and wide grins, stood Char, Meri, Savvy, their men, and her new friends from Mon Rêve.
“Happy birthday! Happy birthday!” Everyone descended on Sake with hugs and wishes.
“I hope you’re not too overwhelmed,” said Meri. “But we couldn’t let your special day pass without a celebration . . . just us family and a few friends.”
Char joined in. “Nice timing, being born on September first. With the crush starting, Papa didn’t have time to rally his friends for this little celebration.”
“The desserts are all from Mon Rêve,” said Sauvignon, showing her the spread on the buffet table. “Your coworkers made sure to bring all your favorites.”
Jeanne poured her a cup of tea, which Sake almost spilled on the carpet when Bill squeezed her opposite side in his one-armed hug.
“You knew,” she said accusingly, feeling her eyes dancing.
“Dude. Only since last night, after you were asleep.”
She sampled the amazing food created by Jeanne and the bakers at Mon Rêve while she listened to the simultaneous chatter of her sisters and the others that filled the room with a joyful noise. And then Meri brought her a small box tied up in a silk ribbon.
Sake smiled apologetically. “I think I know what this is.”
Of course, it was the bracelet Sake had returned in her fit of pique, months ago, when she was still resentful of Papa bringing her here. But that wasn’t all. There was also another bracelet, custom made for Sake.
“See this? It has a Japanese character charm, copied from that tattoo on your right arm. I’m thinking of doing a whole line based on these. I think they’d be real conversation starters. Maybe you could help?”
Then, Char gave her—a chef’s kit?
“Um, this is great. . . .” Sake said, perplexed, unzipping the canvas bag.
“See?” said Char, reaching into the bag. “You’ve got all these different sizes and shapes of knives—don’t ask me—and whatever this thingy is—”
“I think that’s a melon baller,” laughed Sake.
“Right! Who doesn’t know that? A tool to ball melons. And this doodad . . .”
“Lemon zester,” supplied Sake.
“Of course! Lemon zester.”
“How did you know I like shiny things?” But Sake wasn’t sure when she’d actually use those tools . . . until Sauvignon handed her an envelope.
“This kind of goes along with Char’s gift,” she explained. “I heard you were interested in applying to the CIA. When Char told me what a rat your old employer was, that he wouldn’t even write a letter verifying that you’d worked there six months, I made a phone call. This ought to take care of it.”
The letter was signed by Tom Latimer, the new owner of Bunz.
Savvy winked. “Having a sister who’s a lawyer can come in handy. Keep that in mind.”
Mr. Volant, who had been watching, stepped up. “And I’ll be happy give you that letter of recommendation. With hopes, of course, that you’ll stay on at Mon Rêve. At least until you become a famous pastry chef.”
At the word “famous,” Sake pulled a face.
Jeanne presented Sake with three heavy white aprons, monogrammed with her name.
“Now you have everything that you need.” Char glowed.
“Not quite,” said a voice.
Sake turned to see Papa’s assistant, Bruno. From behind his back he flourished a piece of hard-sided luggage in a screaming print: yellow with red and orange and blue hearts scribbled all over it.
Sake held it out. “This is a masterpiece of funk!”
Gravely, he pronounced, “It is my responsibility to see that any daughter of my employer is equipped with the necessary accoutrements to travel in style.”
“I’m glad you take your job seriously,” joked one of the men.
They heard footsteps and everyone looked up to see Papa in the doorway. He was decked out in cowboy boots and a bandana, his eyes white holes where his aviators had been on a sunburnt face. Dusty and dirty, he looked like a man in his element. He spread his arms when he saw them sitting there.
“Here you are, all of my girls, in one place.”
Without knowing how she did it, Sake found herself running to him.
“Papa.”
He folded her into his arms “Ma chérie,” he said into her hair. “Joyeux anniversaire. Come out to the patio with me. I can only stay a moment before I must go back to work. The grapes, they will not wait, not even for birthdays.”
Outside by the pool, Papa turned to face her. “My lawyer told me what you said to the authorities about the logbook.”
She looked down at her own boots and shook her head. “All this time, I’ve been blaming you for hiding me.” Peering up again, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me it was Haha who kept us apart?”
He cupped her head against his chest so that his voice was a rumble against her ear when he replied, “I would never say anything to turn my daughters against their mothers.”
Is Haha really the only one who had behaved badly? Sake wondered as she basked in the comfort of her father’s embrace.
“I remember well the day you were born. I held you in my arms; it was I who named you Sake. Everything was good for a while.”
Sake pulled back from him. “But . . .” She didn’t know how to sugarcoat it. “You were married to someone else. How was I ‘good’?”
On a sigh, he looked across the pool, out toward the distant mountains. “There are many different kinds of marriages, ma chérie. I hope you will only ever know about the good kind.” When he returned his gaze to hers, his eyes were filled with a fathomless sadness.
Then he broke into a smile. “Do you recall the house on Eugenia Avenue?”
“Yes! My favorite house! Back when everything was still normal. . .”
“I found that place for you and Haha. But eventually, things changed. I would come to visit, and you weren’t there. And one day, I came only to find that Haha had moved out, and taken you with her.”
“But why didn’t you do something?”
“Go through the courts? And have you taken from your mother? I considered it. Perhaps if you had been a boy. But I couldn’t take a girl from her mother. I saw what it did to the others.”
When her sisters’ mom died.
“And so I simply waited . . . all the while, trying to keep up with your whereabouts. Always hoping the day would come when you could draw your own conclusions.”
He held her at arm’s length, looking at her with fondness. “And now that day is finally here. Now you are home, where you belong.”
Suddenly he frowned, tilting his head from side to side. “Where are your earrings?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s all good, now.”
“Almost. You have fulfilled your part of our arrangement, and now, as promised, I will fulfill mine.”
In all that had happened, Sake had almost forgotten all about their pact.
“There is an account in your name at my bank. My finance man, Thomas, will be texting you with the information.”