8. Delia
Maybe it made me basic, but fall was my favorite season.
With my birthday on Halloween, I felt a deep kinship with the autumn. My usual restless energy was somewhat soothed when the leaves began to change and the air smelled of decaying foliage. When temperatures dropped and Brie started serving up pumpkin spice lattes and hot apple cider at the bakery.
But that connection had its drawbacks, like how I somehow wound up on the planning committee for every damn fall festival event Apple Blossom Bay had.
From October first through Halloween, Apple Blossom Bay Fall Festival, or ABBFF for short, celebrated the harvest. The maple trees that dotted Main Street showed out, turning varying shades of vermillion, saffron, and burnt orange. With the water in the distance, the town was picturesque in a way that rivaled Salem this time of year.
Admittedly, it wasn’t a hardship to give back to my community, not when its citizens had unknowingly given me so much—namely, my sense of purpose in the world. Before I’d moved home after college, started work on my house, and began running social accounts for business owners, I’d been listless. But the encouragement of my neighbors and family had sent me down a path that proved to be the best thing to ever happen to me.
On a particularly sunny afternoon during the second week of September, I found myself on the patio at the winery with Amara, Brie, and Ezra as we figured out logistics for the part the winery would play in that year’s festival.
Being that Delatou, Inc. owned half of Old Mission Peninsula, a lot of which was forest or undeveloped plains, we opened our lands this time of year for the larger scale events. The fields near the old barn were planted with corn each year—which we then harvested, sold at the farmer’s market, and donated the money back into the community in one way or another—and turned into a maze. Next to that was a pumpkin patch, which Dad or someone else would take guests out to on a wagon hooked up to a tractor, allowing people to pick their own gourds to take home. The barn was set up with a photo station, a small gift shop, and a few food stands that Brie and Ezra kept filled every day.
In addition, the community center and town advisory board put on a myriad of activities, including a haunted house and vendor bazaar.
Two hours—and several of Brie’s hand-squeezed lemonades later—we had a solid plan in place for execution of this year’s events. I had just returned to the table after using the restroom, intent on packing up my things to head into town for yet another meeting. Across from me, Brie had been gearing up to leave as well. Ezra held up a hand, stilling us both.
“Can I run something by you guys?” he asked.
That pulled me up short. Ezra Wendt rarely asked for anything.
“What’s up, Ez?” Brie asked, slowly sinking back into her chair.
I offered my sister a reassuring smile. I didn’t know if anyone else in the family was privy to this information, but Brie and Ezra had had a moment a few years back. When Ezra had first come to work for the Chateau, Brie had been twenty-two, freshly minted culinary arts degree in hand, and recently apprenticed with a pastry chef in Chicago. She’d been home for a brief winter break at Christmas, had taken one look at Ezra and fallen ass over tea kettle for him.
I didn’t know the specifics of what had happened between them, only that it left Brie a little fucked up, always timid and wary around him, though she maintained professionality and cordiality when forced to interact with the man.
I felt for my littlest sister, deeply understanding wanting something you couldn’t have. My only hope was that she found a way to move on one day—or that Ezra pulled his head out of his ass long enough to see that my sister was the most incredible woman, and he’d be the luckiest man alive to be with her.
With me and Brie staring at him expectantly, Ezra said, “I want to get more involved with the community, beyond all of this.” He gestured to the winery, encompassing his work here. “So I was thinking about ways I could give back, and I thought perhaps hosting a fall dinner of sorts at the community center would be fun. I’m thinking a ticketed event with five to seven courses, each cooked by me and paired with a Chateau Delatou wine. I could do fall-inspired dishes with a Swedish flair.”
I cocked my head to the side, studying Ezra. Something about him was…different. Gone were the shadows in his eyes, and the bags beneath them. He seemed brighter, peppier, like he wasn’t simply moving through his life anymore in the wake of the tragedy that sent him running from NYC to ABB, but living it. I had to admit, it looked good on him. He was even more handsome with light in the chocolate depths of his eyes and a smile on his face.
Shifting my gaze, I looked at my sister, who sat still as a statue, mouth popped open slightly.
“And Brie,” he said, turning to her fully. In response, my sister snapped her mouth closed, adopting that air of nonchalance she’d mastered in Ezra’s presence. “I was hoping you’d contribute to the dessert course. Maybe you could come up with something to pair with the CD ice wine?”
“I—” Brie choked on the single letter, then cleared her throat loudly. “That sounds wonderful, Ez. Count me in.”
“What do you need from me?” I asked.
“Marketing help,” he said with a sheepish grin. “Even just word of mouth would be a major boost since you know everyone around here.”
“I’ll put out a blast on my social accounts,” I said. “There will be a lot of tourists coming in for this, so I’ll make sure people are aware it’s happening. We can do flyers around town and post on the Chamber of Commerce’s Facebook page too.”
Ezra’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Thanks, Delia. That would all be amazing.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair and said, “Now I just need to figure out logistics. I suppose I could cook it all at home…”
He trailed off, mumbling to himself and scribbling notes on the paper in front of him, seeming to have forgotten for the moment that Brie and I were still there. And though it had been blessedly quiet the last few weeks since I’d found a worthy project to throw my efforts into, that tiny little voice belonging to my inner chaos demon piped up with an idea. One I couldn’t resist suggesting.
“You should use the bakery’s kitchen!” I said brightly, and Brie’s head shot up so fast her neck cracked. The look she gave me was positively lethal. “It’s only a few storefronts up from the community center, and there’s plenty of work space and storage.”
“Storage I use for my shop,” Brie said through gritted teeth.
I shrugged, unperturbed. “You can use that industrial sized fridge that takes up ninety percent of your kitchen upstairs,” I said. “After the hell you put Dad and Logan through to get it up there, it’s really the least you could do. Unless you want Ezra using that one instead.”
My sister’s emerald green eyes were laser beams designed to flay my skin from my body. Truly unfortunate for her that no magical powers ran through her veins.
“I really wouldn’t want to impose…”
Both of us stared at Brie, waiting for her to make up her mind either way. Ezra clearly expected her to turn him down, and had sort of curled his shoulders in as if bracing for that rejection.
But I knew my sister better than that .
“No, no,” Brie said, waving her hand. “It’s fine. You’re more than welcome to use the bakery.”
Ezra’s eyes widened, a smile halfway unfurling on his face before he bit down on it, offering a closed-lipped one instead. “Thank you, Brie. I’ll…text you to sort out the details.”
“Me too, please,” I said. “When you’ve had a chance to nail down the date and time. Then maybe we can sit down and come up with a marketing plan.”
“Sure,” Ezra said, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “I’ll be in touch with both of you.”
“Great!” I said, clapping my hands. “Well, I have to get back into town for some more meetings, so I’ll see you guys later!”
I knew there was no way I was getting out of the winery without Brie chewing me a new ass, but even so, I power-walked back inside and down the hall, toward the entrance and the parking lot beyond.
“Delia!”
Called it.
I stopped on a dime and turned to Brie, folding my arms across my chest, feigning boredom. The truth was, I’d acted completely out of pocket back there, but…if it got the two of them to figure their shit out instead of walking around each other on eggshells, then my work was done.
“Yes, baby sister?” I asked, tone saccharine.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Do you want the short answer or…”
Brie huffed, the sound a cross between a laugh and something of disgust. “What were you playing at back there?”
I answered her question with one of my own. “Remember last Memorial Day, when I forced Amara and Cal into making out in front of all of us with that dare?”
“Yes…”
I shrugged. “This is your dare.”
While she was momentarily struck dumb and silent, I left her standing in the lobby of the winery, making my escape before she could regain her bearings. She might not like me very much right now, but I had a feeling she’d thank me for meddling one day.
“Hey, Delia!”
I paused my exit from my final festival meeting of the day, spinning to face the man hurrying after me.
“Hey, TJ.”
TJ smiled warmly, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he came to a stop in front of me. “You ready for another year of madness?” he asked, inclining his head to the group exiting the community center behind us.
I nodded. “This is always my favorite time of year around here,” I said. “Fall is so…romantic.”
“I never thought of it like that,” he said. “I’ve always been a summer guy, so the weather changing always makes me a little mournful.”
“Oh, I love summer too, don’t get me wrong. Hard not to when you live in a place like this.”
TJ chuckled lightly, then locked his eyes on mine. “So look, romance is kind of why I wanted to talk to you just now.”
I narrowed my eyes, equal parts concerned and intrigued. “ Yes?”
“I was curious if you’d be interested in going on a date with me some time,” he said, his gaze locked on mine and voice never wavering. “Even if it’s just coffee or something.”
Slowly, I blinked, allowing my eyes to sweep TJ’s figure. He was probably only an inch or two taller than me with floppy brown hair the same color as his dark eyes. Physically, he was a little more wiry than I typically preferred my men. A few years older than me in school, he’d left for college and come back. Now he owned and operated one of the gift shops in town. In the slow season, he supplemented his income by picking up shifts at Granny’s or doing odd jobs around town for other locals. I’d never heard anyone utter a bad word about him. He was nice. Probably too nice for me. And while my blood didn’t heat at the sight of him, my proverbial dance card was doing nothing but gathering dust these days. What was wrong with one date?
Lately, I’d definitely been thinking about how nice it would be to share my life with someone. Owen was obviously not in the running, but spending so much time with a man had ideas of filling my house with a husband and children running through my mind. Seeing my two older sisters finding their soulmates and starting their families gave me a bit of FOMO. I’d never begrudge either of them their happiness—god knew they both deserved to have men like Logan and Cal worshiping them—but I wanted that life for myself. I wanted to be the one to tell my parents they were getting a grandchild, to have a ring on my finger, to change my last name.
I loved being a Delatou, obviously. But I wanted to be more than that—wanted what Mom and Dad had, a lifetime of ups and downs with my one perfect person at my side. I wanted to be a wife and a mother as well as a badass business woman.
Now here I was, being presented with the opportunity to potentially make that dream a reality.
“Sure,” I said at last. “When are you thinking?”
“How about tomorrow? What’s your schedule look like? Maybe we can do dinner at Granny’s?”
“Tomorrow is perfect.”
And so, the following evening, I found myself walking down the leaf littered streets in the direction of Granny’s. TJ had offered to pick me up when he called—not texted, an action I wasn’t sure I liked—earlier to confirm details. It wasn’t that I didn’t like talking on the phone so much as phone calls were far harder to ignore than texts, and I was a busy woman. Anyway, I’d brushed him off, telling him it was silly for either of us to drive when we both lived within walking distance of the restaurant.
The whole of Apple Blossom Bay lived within walking distance of Main Street.
When I pushed through the heavy wooden door, I squinted, giving myself a moment to adjust to the dim interior. I scanned the space for TJ and found him quickly, as he’d risen from his seat to wave at me.
As I reached the table, TJ leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek, surprising me.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, gesturing to the booth bench across from him. “Couldn’t help myself.”
“It’s fine,” I said, hoping my smile was placating and not belying my discomfort at having my personal space breached without my consent.
A second after we’d settled in, Tanya appeared at our side, smiling brightly. “Hey, Delia. TJ. What brings you in tonight?”
“We’re on a date!” TJ said excitedly.
Jesus .
Tanya’s gaze flicked between us, assessing. The woman had been my neighbor for years, having bought her house on our quiet street not long after she’d taken over Granny’s from my family. She’d become like a second mother to me, looking after me, making sure I was safe and taken care of when my own mom was several miles away on the other end of the peninsula. Outside of my family, she knew me best, and I could practically see the wheels in her mind spinning. Questioning. Wondering why I was on a date with a guy I’d never once expressed any interest in during all the years we’d known each other.
Truthfully, I’d asked myself that same series of questions several times over the last twenty-four hours.
But TJ was a nice guy, and nice guys were few and far between. I was willing to give him a shot. If it worked out, lucky me. If it didn’t, at least I could say I tried.
“That’s great!” Tanya said, though her eyes lingered on me as though asking if it were, in fact, great. I gave her a tight, close-lipped smile. With a near imperceptible incline of her head, indicating she understood, she moved on. “What can I get you guys to drink?”
“I’ll just have water,” TJ said. “What about you, Delia?”
I studied him. “You’re not going to have a beer or something?”
“Oh, I don’t drink,” TJ said. “Never really saw the point. ”
“I—” I let whatever I had planned to say die in my throat. I didn’t have anything against people who didn’t drink. That wasn’t my choice to make for them. But…a large part of my life revolved around alcohol and the consumption of it. Having grown up in the area, that was something TJ knew. Five minutes into this date, and the contrasts in our lifestyles were glaringly obvious.
It had me wondering why he’d asked me out in the first place—and why I’d agreed.