Chapter 14 #2
Something kept me sitting there for a few minutes.
The pain and the cold woke me like I’d jumped into Lake Champlain, and I actually felt great.
In what a spectator might have called a complete lapse of sanity, I broke into laughter, an uncontrollable belly laugh.
Blood on my head and hands and savage laughter in my heart.
Then, as quickly as it had come, I stopped laughing and a sense of clarity washed over me. What was I doing? Not on the steps. I mean, what was I doing with my life? Why had I chosen to stay with Rory? Was it because of the promise I’d made in our wedding vows? Was it for Jasper? Was it for me?
Or was it strictly based on fear?
I shook the questions off and carefully stood.
It was only natural to be freaking out. Our whole world was changing.
Rory was about to dash water on his aspirations and end his entire political career—everything he’d ever hoped for—in order to make things right for our family.
I was correct in giving him another chance. We all make mistakes.
I began collecting the empty cans, bottles, and broken glass, tossing them into the blue bin. Moving too quickly, I reached down for a broken wine bottle and it sliced through my skin. I dropped the glass and cried out as more blood stained my hand.
“What is wrong with me!” I wailed, clutching my arm in pain. “Damn it!”
Let’s be honest, I think I dropped about seventy-six F-bombs, but I’ll save you from enduring them.
Once I was out of fucks to scream, I looked down at the piece that cut me.
The label was still intact. Three words stood out.
Red Mountain Merlot. In smaller text, Washington State.
It was the bottle bedswerving Nadine had given to me, as an act of kindness on the night I hosted our latest event, the bottle of wine I’d grabbed on the way to soak in the tub on the day I saw the video.
Something was strange, though. In what I can only describe as an epiphany, the label began to glow with golden light.
At least my mind created such an illusion.
A peace washed over me amidst the cold and pain. All my cares drifted off to nowhere.
Why was this bottle glowing before me? Had Nadine been sent by some higher power to guide me? To tell me what I needed to do? Or had the man who’d sold her that bottle of wine played a role in my destiny?
I suddenly saw the truth, and for that moment, caught a glimpse of the essence of life. I saw everything laid out before me, the complete absurdity of who I had been that year. The not eating, the playing of childish pressure-release games, the faking happiness. Denying the real situation.
The bottle was speaking to me, showing me what to do, where to go.
I could not stay with Rory. I couldn’t stay here.
The road ahead would be scary, but I dared not tread down the path of fear, or I might get lost thinking of all the things I’d have to do in the next few months.
But that label answered the most difficult question.
I didn’t know what Red Mountain was. I knew nothing other than what Nadine had told me.
An up-and-coming wine region with some of the best wines in the country.
What better place to open a bed-and-breakfast!
There it was. My whole freaking destiny laid out as the result of a slip on the ice and a slice on the hand. I picked up the broken piece and looked harder at the label. I’d been misled by so many false ideas and answers, but this one was different. This bottle had come from the source.
Tossing the piece into the bin, I cracked a grin and, very carefully this time, walked up the steps and returned to the kitchen.
Philippe was wagging his tail. I knelt down and laughed with glee as he licked my face.
“Big things are coming, my love.” I pressed my face against his.
“Will you move with me? A big adventure lies ahead.”
I stood back up, desperate to do some research. Was I really going to do this! Though I had a valid fear of the unknown, it was the excitement and confidence that fed my soul. Jasper was awake and playing piano. A resurgence of life coursed through me as I bandaged my hand and went for my laptop.
Margot was rising from the dead.
Waves of chills ran across my skin. A smile teased my lips. Hope, excitement, second chances. Renewed dreams. Chickens.
I sat at the kitchen island, and with shaky fingers, keyed in: Red Mountain, Washington State.
I clicked on the images, determined this mysterious place would be our new home.
When the images loaded, I was at once surprised and mesmerized.
Never had I seen such a landscape. Though I’d expected to see lush forest without countless trees, a Seattle-type climate, what graced my vision was a dry, almost desert-like terrain with lush vineyards climbing up rolling hills that all fed toward the peak of a taller mountain.
I couldn’t believe I’d never heard of this place and wondered what it would be like to live there. Was I crazy enough to go find out? When was the last time I had even been out west?
My eyes bulged as I thought of chasing a dream not dissimilar from Frances’s in Under the Tuscan Sun.
Chill bumps rose on my arms. I realized I wasn’t being crazy. This moment was the sanest, most lucid I’d been in years. Was this how major life events happened?
Then my heart sank and my smile dissipated.
Doubt crept in. What about Jasper? I couldn’t take him from his piano teacher, and I most certainly wasn’t going to leave him with the Dream Killer.
Whether Rory would change was yet to be decided.
No, wherever I went, Jasper was coming with me, but he needed excellent musical coaching.
My fingers flew over the keyboard as I searched Washington State for music teachers.
Was this really meant to be or just another fantasy?
The shocking results confirmed that I’d somehow tapped into my destiny.
And Jasper’s too. According to an article I found in the Seattle Times, one of the finest piano teachers on the West Coast had left Seattle to open up a school in Richland, Washington.
Richland was fifteen minutes from Red Mountain!
My heart raced as the snowball of my dream barreled down the hill, collecting speed and mass.
I felt myself breaking free of the chains.
Was I going to do this? A resounding hell, yes rose from deep down.
I searched for the lodging options on Red Mountain.
It’s important to know the competition. Other than a few VRBOs and Airbnbs, there was nothing!
No place to stay in wine country. I found a real estate website and searched.
Red Mountain was so small I didn’t need to filter.
There were no commercial buildings available, but there was a house.
Not just any house. There was my home, staring back at me.
It was a Spanish-style house with white-stuccoed walls and a terra-cotta red-tile roof.
The inside was to die for, almost exactly how I might have decorated it.
The Euro kitchen featured high-end, brand-new appliances, and I could see myself standing on that tile floor, trying out a new recipe.
According to the description, the house stood on a large piece of land. I did a quick search of zoning laws, and it appeared that I could indeed build my bed-and-breakfast on the same property! What could be more perfect than living a stone’s throw away from the inn?
As a bonus, there was another piece of property for sale right next to it.
Maybe I could buy that too, though the land was much more expensive than the property that I’d been looking at in Vermont.
With more online research, I quickly learned that vineyard land of that quality draws a high price tag.
I couldn’t wait another moment to tell my son and yelled, “Jasper!”
The music stopped and he came running. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, sweetie. Not a thing in the world.”
“Oh, my God,” he said, looking at me. “What’s all that blood?” He pointed to the back of my neck. I’d totally forgotten about having hit my head. As he pointed it out though, the pain rose.
“No big deal,” I said. “I fell outside. It doesn’t matter. I have huge news.”
He pointed at my hand and arm. “Mom, you have blood all over you.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I grabbed his wrist with my bandaged hand. “How would you feel about moving to Washington State?”
“Mom, you need to go to the hospital.”
“I’m okay. Seriously. I’m the best I’ve ever been.” I let go of his wrist. “And I’m asking you for real. Do you want to move to Washington?”
“It’s too wet there,” he said, still shocked over my injuries.
“I’m talking about eastern Washington. The dry part of the state.
I found a stunning house on a gorgeous piece of property where I could build the bed-and-breakfast of my dreams. Surrounded by vineyards.
And there’s a great piano teacher nearby.
Not to mention Seattle and its music scene only a few hours away. ”
“You’re serious?”
“Look at me. Does anything about me right now make it look like I’m joking? Let’s get out of here.”
He offered me a handsome smile. “Why not? Maybe the news of the Simpson family breakdown hasn’t made it that far.” Concern filled his eyes. “What about him?”
He didn’t say Dad.
“I’m going to leave your dad, honey. I know I’ve been so wishy-washy, but I made a mistake last night. I can’t stay with him. I’m so sorry.”
He put his arm on my shoulder. “You’re for real? You haven’t just hit your head and gone wonky, have you?”
“I’ve never been more for real. Like fo real.” It didn’t come out sounding quite as hip as I’d intended.
“I’m proud of you, Mom.”
“For what?”
“For finding courage.”
I pinched my chin as chill bumps rose on my arms. “I lost it there for a minute, didn’t I?”
“A minute or two. Now, seriously, let me look at your head.”
“Oh, it’s just a little thing.”