Josie
Thirty-eight
It’s been two days since the will reading.
Despite all the lawyers, family conversations, and fallout from Evie’s decisions, I haven’t stopped thinking about Alex.
I realized it’s going to be impossible to keep this mess away from him, so I shouldn’t shut him out.
I finally sent him a text to check in late last night.
I haven’t heard back, which makes me worry I’ve messed this up, so by late morning I give in and decide to check on him.
I drive past the dance studio first, as that’s a standing part of their Saturday mornings. Through the front windows I spot Zara sitting near the lobby. If she is here, Alex is probably home.
That assumption sends me across town to his house.
His vehicle sits in the driveway, exactly where I expect it to be. I park beside it, grab my phone from the passenger seat, and let myself in the way I normally would.
The moment I step through the door, I can tell something is different.
The house is quiet, but it isn’t empty. Two women sit in the living room, and both turn toward me with the anticipatory looks of people who have been expecting company.
The older woman rises first. “You must be Josie.” She smiles politely. “I’m Avery Spencer.” Then she gestures to the younger woman beside her. “And this is Anastasia.”
My stomach drops so suddenly I almost lose my footing.
I force myself to smile even as my pulse kicks hard against my ribs. Both women look effortlessly put together. They’re dressed casually, but in the polished way only wealthy people manage. Everything fits perfectly. Everything looks expensive without trying to.
I become painfully aware of my own appearance. Jeans. Vineyard boots. A streak of dirt along one knee from walking Block 58 this morning. My hair is pulled back in a rushed ponytail because I planned to check on Alex, not meet his family.
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I didn’t realize you were in town. I just stopped by to see Alex.”
“He stepped out,” Avery says. “But you’re welcome to wait.”
The invitation sounds warm enough, yet I can’t tell whether it actually is. Anastasia watches me with an unreadable expression while Avery remains perfectly composed.
I glance toward the door and then back at them. Leaving immediately would feel abrupt. Staying feels dangerous. “Thank you,” I say, because I don’t know what else to do.
I clasp my hands together and search for something safe to talk about. Conversation usually comes easily to me. Today it feels like walking through a minefield. I just walked into a pit of vipers.
“How long have you lived in Paradise?” Avery asks.
“I’m an eighth-generation native.”
“Wow, there can’t be too many people who have been here that long.”
“More than you’d think.” I look over at the clock and wonder how long I should wait.
My attention drifts to a photograph of Eloise on a side table. The familiar smile gives me something safe to focus on. “Eloise must have been excited by the surprise visit.”
Avery’s smile remains in place, but she immediately corrects me. “This wasn’t a surprise.”
I look back at her. “No?”
“The trip was always planned.”
Oh. Alex never mentioned that his mother and Anastasia were coming. Maybe he didn’t know. I suddenly feel as though I’ve missed an important piece of information.
“There’s a lot for Eloise and me to work through before we all move home to Toronto,” Anastasia suddenly volunteers.
Wait, what? Everything in me goes cold. “I didn’t know about that.”
The words feel strange coming out of my mouth, but they’re the only response I can find. Anastasia seems pleased, and the conversation moves forward before the awkwardness can deepen.
“Alex’s father isn’t well,” she explains. “Family becomes more important when something like that happens.”
I don’t respond.
“He wants to be closer to them,” she continues. “And family should be together during difficult times.”
I look down at my hands while pieces of the story begin fitting together in ways I don’t particularly like.
Neither woman says anything else. They don’t need to. The picture they’ve painted is already complete. Toronto isn’t being discussed as a possibility. It sounds like a plan already in motion.
Can that be right? Did I miss this much in just a couple of days?
Where is Alex? I sit quietly for a moment and try to absorb it all.
Everything that seemed stable when I walked through the front door feels less certain now, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m arriving at the end of a story everyone else already knows.
I check my watch and realize there’s no reason for me to stay. I can’t sit here for hours, and I’m not going to get any useful information in Alex’s living room with his mother and ex-wife. And maybe this story has moved on without me anyway. Rising from the sofa, I offer a polite smile.
“I should get going,” I say. “I only stopped by to check in, and I need to get back to the vineyard. It’s going to be a busy day.”
Avery stands with the same effortless grace she’s shown since I arrived. “It was lovely meeting you, Josie.”
“You too.” The response comes automatically, even as I hate how formal everything feels. Nobody has been openly rude. Nobody has said anything inappropriate. Yet somehow I’ve still been told that I’m standing outside a life that has a place for everyone except me.
Back behind the wheel of my truck, I’m grateful for the privacy.
No one is gauging my every move and expression now.
The fresh air helps clear my head, and for the first time since walking into the house, I can think without feeling scrutinized.
I start the engine and begin backing down the driveway, determined to get to the vineyard and lose myself in the one thing I know is certain.
The grapes need attention. They don’t care about anything else.
All the rest of this is too much. The ground keeps shifting beneath my feet.
Evie has effectively disinherited all of us.
Now a billionaire wants me to move to another country and rebuild his vineyard from the ground up.
And the man I was falling for is apparently getting back together with his ex-wife—and couldn’t even tell me himself?
I don’t have the energy to untangle all of it.
No capacity for another surprise. Another disappointment.
Another conversation that changes everything.
Every time I think I’ve found my footing, something else comes along and knocks me sideways. I can’t live like this. I have to get my bearings. So I power down my cell phone.
I’m done reacting to everyone else’s chaos. For now, I’m going to focus on what I can control and let the rest of the world take care of itself.