Chapter 3
“So, another day in paradise?” Maddy asked, the internet only stuttering a few of her words as she smirked down the video call.
Natalie intentionally maintained eye contact with her aunt. “Look, I’m not saying it isn’t beautiful here, but it’s nothing like where we were before.”
They went back and forth on the viability of Candice’s miniature venture for the next hour, and when it finally seemed like it might reach a conclusion, she changed her mind.
The teenager had been huddled in the corner of the screen for nearly twenty minutes before Maddy brought up the sensitive topic of Natalie and Ian’s mission in France.
If given the choice, Natalie wouldn’t have discussed it at all.
“You can do people, though,” Maddy said. “It’s your strong point.”
“Not lately, apparently,” she muttered, regretting it the instant she saw Maddy’s eyes focus on her.
“What do you mean by that?” her aunt asked.
Rubbing her face with her hands, she shook her head. “Nothing…”
Maddy’s blank stare was accompanied by Candice’s almost imperceptible eye roll as she pretended not to listen.
“Fine!” Natalie exclaimed, throwing up her hands and stepping away from the screen.
“Everyone who quit at the restaurant and cellar door? I hired them. It seems like I hired the person who made them want to quit. I can’t get Ian on my side for more than a day at a time.
The entire Dubois family seems to actively detest me despite my efforts to be as little trouble as possible.
And let’s not forget that last year, I agreed to marry a guy who turned out to be a jerk who cheats, drives drunk, and gets our family in the newspaper. ”
Candice had stopped pretending not to listen and was now simply staring with her mouth agape. Maddy’s blank expression had transformed into concern, which felt somehow worse.
“Jerk?” Candice said through an obviously concealed desire to laugh. “That’s the best you can come up with?”
Returning to her spot at the table, Natalie huffed. “No, but it’s the only one I’ll be saying in front of you. You might not be afraid of your mom, but I am.”
“Me, too,” Maddy added. “She jumps, and I ask how high.”
“You’re not afraid of anyone, Ms. C.” Candice paused for a moment, her nose scrunched in thought. “Wait. When you get married, will I have to call you Mrs. C? Or whatever Jack’s last name starts with?”
“No, dear, because I’m not changing my name,” Maddy said. “I spent too many years not being Madelaine Claire to chuck it in just because I’m getting married again. Besides, even if I was, you can call me Ms. C for however long you want. I’ve come to quite like it.”
Candice laughed. “Wow. Look at you, Ms. C. Being all modern and feminist. We love to see it. And Jack isn’t being all traditional about it?”
Watching silently, Natalie urged Maddy to respond to Candice’s questions.
She had wanted to have this conversation with Maddy since she learned that her aunt was engaged but hadn’t quite found the right way to initiate it.
That was one area where the battering ram of teenage bluntness proved very useful.
“Jack understands that my experiences during my marriage and divorce have made me very attached to my maiden name,” Maddy said primly. “Also, he doesn’t mind. We want to be married without all the song and dance. I never thought I’d be so non-traditional, but I believe it’s a step forward.”
“Do we have any plans yet?” Natalie asked, interrupting the conversation taking place stateside. If she was going to be on the phone with these two and not get any work done, she might as well gather some information from them.
Maddy smiled and shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve talked about some general things, but nothing big enough to make a fuss about.”
“Ah-ha!” Candice exclaimed. “I’ve got it, look here—they’re certified fair trade, use natural materials, and make all their chemical disposal processes and receipts public.”
Holding up a hand against the conversational whiplash, Natalie closed her eyes and tried to track backward. “Wait, this is the T-shirt people?”
“Yeah!” Candice exclaimed. “The merch we launched in response to your total virality has performed well enough—but I don’t think we should contribute to fast fashion, especially since the rest of our brand is so focused on sustainability and environmentally friendly winemaking.
The company I found to make the shirts offers all of this.
” The teenager clicked something on their screen, and the camera image disappeared, replaced with a screen share of the company’s website.
Maddy’s voice came through the speakers. “And you’re seriously telling me that in less than three weeks, we’ve made more on these lemon car crash T-shirts than we have on tours?”
“Yup.”
“Sorry, hold up, lemon car crash?” Natalie interjected.
“Yeah. Your first viral post, the one where you were like, ‘When life gives you car crashes, retreat into a fairytale cottage in the French countryside’? Well, that’s the first thing I put on a shirt, and on tote bags, and on a few vinyl stickers.
Then I got J—” Candice started to cough.
Even in the miniature version of the video call, Natalie could see that the teenager had turned bright red as she covered her mouth.
“Are you all right?” Natalie asked, suddenly considering the likelihood of Maddy being able to perform the Heimlich maneuver or getting the teenager into a recovery position to wait for paramedics.
“Yes, fine, sorry, just dust or my hair, I don’t know. Anyway—I got Jenny from school to draw something for us, and she made this.”
The screen changed to display an unexpectedly charming illustration of a fairytale-style cottage featuring a lemon-shaped car parked in front, with its front wheel lying flat on the ground beside it.
“That is remarkably apt,” Natalie said. “And this is on T-shirts?”
Candice shook her head. “No, this one is more popular on stickers and totes, so I nixed the shirts.”
“Right.” Natalie nodded. “And this brought in more than tours?”
“Technically,” Candice agreed. “Normally, when you conduct the tours, they’re more profitable—people seem to buy more wine after a tour with you than with anyone else—and they also occur more frequently.
So, compared to now, yes, they are more profitable.
However, if we compare it to the average revenue from tours over the six months before you went to France, the merchandise would be about half as profitable. ”
Wow… Natalie leaned back in her chair and gazed at the ceiling.
Her contribution to the business, working fifteen hours a week, could be somewhat replaced by a cute cartoon and a cynical quote printed on a shirt.
She should’ve been happy—her absence, which cost them money, was always on her mind, so minimizing it should be a positive development.
So why did she feel so unimportant instead?
“These starting costs seem a bit steep,” Maddy said, squinting into the camera. “What’s it for?”
“There has to be a setup fee,” Candice explained. “And this one is way more chill than several others I looked at. I just paid the deposit to get it started—we couldn’t afford to wait.”
Natalie was still a bit shaken by the realization that she could be so easily replaced by merch, but something in the teenager’s voice caught her attention. “Candice, did you use your own money to secure something for Fitzgerald Hills?”
The teenager shrugged. “It was only a couple of thousand to get the first round started—plus, it’s not like you won’t pay me back.”
“Candice!” Maddy exclaimed. “That’s a lot of money. And besides, that’s not the point—you shouldn’t be putting your money on the line for the company. That’s not your responsibility.”
“Anyway,” she replied, “let me send you the two-week balance report because I have to go. I have a study date tomorrow, and I need to prepare in advance.” She grimaced and returned her gaze to the screen, letting Maddy and Natalie exchange glances and silently agree to talk about it later.
After long farewells and playful teasing about her needing to prepare in advance before studying with others, Maddy and Natalie were finally left alone.
“She’s definitely up to something,” Natalie said, thinking they would use the opportunity to talk about Candice’s newfound laissez-faire attitude toward money, but Maddy cut her off.
“Speaking of jerks, your ex-fiancé is stepping on some toes around here.”
“Excuse me?” Natalie asked, wondering if she had misheard.
“He’s trying to help,” Maddy said.
“Oh, I mean—”
“All the time,” her aunt continued. “If it’s not stepping in and suggesting ideas, it’s at the restaurant or trying to get your grandmother to let him help figure out what’s happening with Section Nine and the blight.”
Her aunt hadn’t even finished speaking when the heat began to rise in her chest. She could feel her skin warming on her neck and creeping up her face with a stinging sensation that felt more like an allergic reaction.
“He’s what?” she asked quietly.
“I thought you knew. He’s always talking about how you two are cool and chat all the time and how he’s really keen to make it all up to everyone.”
Natalie raised her hands. “I’ll tell him to stop, but I don’t know if he’ll be very receptive. He’s incredibly determined to be the bigger person. Honestly, I'm not sure how many more apologies I can handle from him.”
They sat in silence for a moment, staring at each other from an ocean away.
“You homesick yet?” Maddy asked finally.
“Kind of. It’s a bit strange. I don’t always feel like I’m in another country because Ian handles all the translating and speaking.
I mean, it’s been weeks, and I’ve still only learned a handful of French words.
They all look at me like I’m a dog trying to walk on its hind legs.
I think Ian is getting there, though; he’s becoming grumpy with some of the foibles of French supermarkets in particular—”
A knock at the adjoining door cut her off.
“Yeah?”
“Just me,” Ian called out. “We have a call with Michelle in ten minutes.”
“Be there in two.” Natalie turned back to Maddy. “The superwoman with the computer full of botanical fungal info—gotta go, Maddy. Please talk to Candice. I’m getting more and more worried about her.”
“Will do, Captain Major General,” Maddy said with a mock salute. “You keep posting pictures of your blessed existence and making little quips about it for the internet.”
She shook her head and got up to stretch before her second long-distance conference call of the day.