Chapter 15
Ivy squealed when Paloma and Arlo entered the tasting room. She rushed to greet them, hugging each of them tightly.
“I’m so glad you could make it,” she said. “Thank you for coming. Have you checked into the BB yet?”
“Yes,” Arlo said. “Mrs. Bradley is very kind and introduced us to her cat Spooky. The rooms are lovely.” He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her cheeks again. “We have missed you, mio dolce amico.”
“I’ve missed both of you, too. Come meet Melanie.”
She introduced them to Melanie, who was about to do a tasting with two couples, and then Ivy said, “Let me take you to the new tasting room. It’s really coming along.”
Waving to Melanie, Ivy drove her friends the short distance to the new structure and led them inside. She walked them through where the tasting bar would stand and then led them around the space, thankful no construction workers were present today. The crew was working simultaneously on the new event center and tasting room, and so she supposed they were at the event center now.
“Here is where there will be additional spaces for tastings. Long tables where a group can gather and be walked through various wines. We’ll display award-winning wines in this area.” Moving along, she added, “This is where there will be an area of tables for those who’ve completed their tastings to gather and sip on wines. There will be a bar located nearby for them to order fruit and cheese trays, along with wine by the glass or bottle.”
Walking them further along, Ivy said, “This area is the gift shop.”
“What kind of merchandise will you carry?” Paloma asked.
She indicated the shirt she wore, bearing the Lost Creek Vineyards logo. “Definitely shirts, such as this one, in an array of colors. T-shirts and sweatshirts, as well. We’ll also have aprons. Ball caps and visors. All with the vineyard’s logo. Barware such as cork stops and corkscrews. Wine charms. And plenty of different wine glasses.”
Being from Italy, her friends were quite familiar with wines and the various types of glasses used with reds, whites, and rosés.
Paloma thought a moment. “How about bibs? Those would be cute.”
“I love that idea,” Ivy said, pulling out her cell and jotting a note.
“You’ve mentioned visitors come to the Hill Country to shop,” Arlo said. “What about a Christmas ornament? Round ones could have the winery’s logo on them. Or you could do tiny plastic wineglasses with the logo.”
“Christmas ornaments are a great idea,” Ivy exclaimed, opening the note she’d just closed and adding ornaments beneath where she’d typed bibs. “See, I needed the two of you here to spark new ideas.”
“Besides wanting our fabulous company,” Paloma teased.
“I have missed you. But come see the rest.”
Ivy took them outside, explaining this would be where a covered patio area would stand. It would also have a bar outside.
“Harper wants to encourage people to make Lost Creek Winery a weekend destination, beyond the events held in the new center,” she explained. “We’ve been talking with different merchants in town, such as The Cheese Connoisseur, and we’ll offer different plates and picnic items for purchase, as well as wines. We’ll have picnic tables scattered in that area. Eventually, Harper wants to bring in local bands to play on Friday and Saturday nights.”
“It is all very exciting,” Paloma said. She took Ivy’s hand. “You seem very happy.”
“I am,” she assured her friend. “I didn’t realize what a rut I’d gotten into at the gallery. I was there every day of the week. It was soul-sucking, and I didn’t even realize it. Here, though, I’ve been able to make huge contributions to the design of the new tasting room. I’ve also made a few suggestions for Harper’s event center. We think both venues will open in November. Possibly sooner.”
“More importantly, are you painting again?” Arlo asked.
She nodded. “I’m definitely painting again. I have a few things to show you at the apartment I’m renting. I’m using it as a studio and renting a house with my sister and her boyfriend. I’ll take you there soon. For now, come back to the tasting room with me. It’s almost closing time there. I want you to try some of our wines.”
They returned to the tasting room, where Melanie had finished up with the couples’ tasting.
“It’s almost six,” Ivy said. “Go ahead and leave. I’ll handle closing. Right now, I’m going to introduce my friends to some of Lost Creek Vineyards’ best wines.”
She took the next half-hour to share some of her favorites which the winery produced.
“You know we practically drank wine in our bottles,” Arlo said. “We know good wines when we taste them. What your family is producing is top quality, Ivy. I am impressed.”
“I agree,” Paloma said. “Arlo has always favored reds, while whites have been my go-to. I actually enjoyed the reds we sampled, and I am crazy about your blends.”
“We’re becoming known for those blends,” she shared. “We also have a new viticulturist from Napa who has been working with the vines this season. My dad has always been our chief winemaker, but he’ll be promoting Braden to that position and stepping aside to concentrate more on the advertising and marketing end of the business.”
Her friends offered to help her wash and dry the wine glasses they’d used, so Ivy allowed them to do so while she dealt with other housekeeping details. Tomorrow would be the first Saturday she hadn’t worked since her return to Lost Creek, in part because her friends had come to town and also because she was going to help prepare for tomorrow’s first fusion night at Java Junction.
When everything was set up for the tasting room’s opening the next day, they left. Paloma rode with Ivy, while Arlo followed in his car. She took them to Blackwood BBQ, where they feasted on ribs, brisket, and pork. Paloma fell in love with the jalape?o chicken and shrimp poppers Shy brought to them.
“These are amazing,” she raved, calling Shy back and having him explain how to put together the bacon-wrapped wonders.
“I can barely move,” Arlo said, patting his belly. “I haven’t eaten this much in a long time, but it was all so good. I would eat here three times a week if I lived in Lost Creek.”
After they ate banana pudding for dessert, Ivy took them to the town square. She parked behind the hardware store but had them walk around to the side, where her finished mural was on display.
“You did this?” Arlo asked, his eyes roaming the brick wall. “It is amazing, Ivy.”
“Thank you. I’d never taken on a project of this magnitude before. The size alone was a bit frightening, but once I got down the perspective, it went really fast.”
“How much do you ask to paint something like this?” Paloma asked.
“Nothing. I thought it would be great advertising. Plus, visitors to town almost always come to the square to shop.” She indicated the bottom, right corner. “See, I signed my name. We have a gallery in town, and I’ve spoken briefly with its owner about the possibility of carrying some of my paintings. I’d like to complete several more before I do so, though.”
“Speaking of those, I want to see what you’ve done since you’ve left Houston.”
“This way.”
Ivy led them up the back staircase. She’d finished four paintings since she’d returned to Lost Creek, all of them landscapes of the Hill Country. Two leaned against a wall. Another sat on the coffee table. The final one remained on an easel and was the one she planned to display it at Java Junction tomorrow night, along with the painting of Lost Creek Lake. That one was her gift to Dax, and he would hang it on the wall in the coffeehouse permanently.
Her friends went to each of the four paintings, studying them carefully. Ivy worried her bottom lip as they did so. Arlo and Paloma were no pushovers. If they praised her efforts, she would know she was on the right track.
Finally, they completed their viewing. Paloma threw her arms about Ivy.
“These are so good!” she declared. “They speak to me, Ivy. It is your soul on the canvas.”
“I agree,” Arlo seconded. “I can tell this place is home to you. It’s evident in every brushstroke. And your colors are amazing. I have never seen a sunset such as this.”
She grinned. “Well, we get them all the time here in Lost Creek. I have felt inspired, returning to my roots. I’ve taken my sketchbook and simply driven around, capturing different scenery. It gives me a lot of options as I decide what I’ll be painting next.”
“May I see it?” Arlo asked. “Only if you wish to share it, that is.”
“Of course.”
Ivy retrieved the sketchbook, handing it to him. Arlo sat on the couch, Paloma beside him, turning the pages, murmuring and nodding. The siblings looked at one another, some silent communication passing between them.
Paloma spoke up. “Do not contract with this local gallery owner,” she begged. “Let Arlo and me sell your paintings.”
She shook her head emphatically. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t have them displayed where I once worked. I don’t want a single penny going into Lawson Everhart’s pocket. I refuse to have him represent my work.”
Arlo beamed at her. “But that is the beauty of how life works out, Ivy. Paloma and I only have a week left to go working for Lawson. How else do you think we managed to take the time off to come and visit you this weekend?”
“Really? You both found jobs somewhere else?”
“I am going to San Francisco,” Arlo revealed. “Paloma has found a position in Dallas.”
“That means we should have two different outlets for your work,” Paloma told her. “Your native Texas and the west coast. I think you should keep painting for now. Let us become established at our new galleries. Then we can each show the directors examples of your work. A Dallas exhibition should come first, don’t you agree, Arlo?”
“Yes, because Ivy’s paintings are of Texas. It would give her firmer footing. Then we could broaden your audience with my gallery in California.”
Excitement filled her. “You really think I could have showings at your new places of employment?”
“You are that good, Ivy,” Arlo confirmed. “Landscapes are very popular with clients. You know that. I think here in Texas people will clamor for your work. It will be familiar places to them, but your take will be fresh and exciting.”
“But you need a decent number of paintings before I would think to approach my new boss,” Paloma said. “You yourself know how many paintings you would look at with artists, picking and choosing only from their very best, as you selected the paintings for a showing.”
“I will certainly keep working,” she assured the pair. “I do have one more mural to paint, though. That will probably take me two weeks or so.”
“Where? What will you paint?” Paloma asked.
“I don’t know if you looked around the places on the square, but a coffeehouse is diagonally across from where we are.”
She led them to the window and pointed out Java Junction.
“The owner has asked me to paint a mural on his brick wall. I’m going to focus on Texas wildflowers. Bluebonnets, of course, will be the most prominent ones featured. They are the state flower and so prevalent here in the Hill Country. But I’ll include others, too, such as Indian paintbrush, Brown-eyed Susans, spotted beebalm, and lantana.”
Retrieving her phone, Ivy pulled up a few websites so her friends could see the beautiful colors of Texas wildflowers.
“We don’t see these in Houston,” Paloma said. “They are all gorgeous. Such variety of colors. You must paint these wildflowers, Ivy. Not only on your mural but in your landscapes, as well.”
“Oh, I plan to. I believe everything I paint from now on will be rooted in Texas and what is found in nature here.” She paused. “I have something I want to invite you to attend tomorrow night. I asked you to come this weekend specifically because of it.”
“What is it?”
“I’ve been seeing the owner of the coffeehouse. The man who commissioned the mural outside his place. We’ve come up with an idea to bring music and art together, and we’re calling it Harmony Hues. Harmony for the music. Hues for the artwork. I’m sure you’ve done an art walk before. Instead of going from store to store, all the art will be located inside Java Junction. People can come view paintings and sculptures and also listen to some local talent perform.”
“This idea is very interesting,” Arlo said.
Paloma snorted. “We can talk about the idea later. I want to hear about this man.”
Ivy laughed. “His name is Dax Tennyson. He’s from Dallas. He quit his accounting job and wanted a simpler life, which is how he ended up in Lost Creek. He opened Java Junction back in March. The fusion nights will be held a couple of Saturdays each month during the summer, in order to take advantage of the local tourists coming through. If they become popular, they’ll continue into fall.”
Once again, Ivy tapped a few keys on her cell, calling up the new website she’d designed for Java Junction. She went to the Harmony Hues page and handed over her phone.
“You can see the different art which will be displayed tomorrow night,” she explained, “as well as pictures of the artists who created them, along with brief biographies.”
“I will need to study this,” Arlo said. “And we most certainly will come tomorrow night. Not only to see your art on display but to meet Dax.”
Her face softened at the mention of his name, and Paloma laughed. “Look at you, going all dewy-eyed just hearing his name. I cannot wait to meet your Dax, Ivy.”
She glanced at her watch. “It’s almost closing time at Java Junction. Dax told me to bring you by for a cup of coffee and a chat.”
Paloma’s eyes sparkled. She slipped her arm through Ivy’s. “I thought the glow surrounding you was due to the fact you were painting again. I think your art is only a part of your new happiness, Ivy. I already like this Dax. Let’s go meet him in person.”