Chapter 23
GUARDIANS OF THE WINERY
Cricket
After dinner and a quick check-in with Mabel about the latest response from GrippaBeav’s legal team—still no luck in getting that channel taken down—I invite Ginny with me back to my little apartment.
I tell her I want to talk to her about something, but really, I don’t want to be alone there.
Not after telling Heath that I was getting on the dating apps.
I wasn’t lying—I do think I need to get out there, and I need to be exposed to other men than just Heath to make sure that all of these feelings I have for him aren’t just about him being the only man here.
So I want Ginny’s take on the dating pool around here, as well as to talk to her about my idea about managing the grapes myself.
I don’t know if it’s a viable option, but I don’t want to suggest it to Mabel until I’m sure.
“You are ridiculously neat,” Ginny says as she surveys the apartment.
My bed is made, the counters are clear, and my luggage is in the closet under the stairs.
Fairly normal.
I was trained at an early age to not make messes, so it’s habitual at this point to take as little space as possible, even if I always delay doing my laundry for as long as humanly possible.
I could make a mess if I wanted to, but honestly?
I don’t want to.
“It’s something I’m in control of,” I tell her. “But also, it’s not my house, so I don’t want to be a rude houseguest.”
“The whole point, Cricket, is that you have your space. This is your space. You can do whatever you want with it.”
I glance through the sliding glass door at the chicken that followed us back here.
Pretty sure I have a pet chicken now.
I’m taking up space, and I’m good with that here.
“I want my messy space to be outside,” I say.
And then I gesture for her to sit with me at the edge of my bed while I tell her what I’m thinking about the grapes.
As I’m finishing, she bursts into sobs.
I shrink. “Sorry. Sorry. I don’t have to—I mean, I know it’s too early to talk about staying forever, and you probably already have someone in mind, and—”
“Oh, Cricket, no, it’s not you,” she says through sniffles. “I want—we want you to stay. We’ve needed more sunshine here. But I can’t—we haven’t—I don’t think—”
My heart is in my throat, and even if I wasn’t a sympathetic crier, I’d be crying right now too. “You don’t have to protect my feelings,” I say through my own sobs.
“If we can’t find an investor, it won’t matter,” she wails. “And I can’t find an investor.”
Ice claims my insides as the reality of the financial situation hits me in a way that it hasn’t yet.
I love it here.
I love the people. I love the purpose. I love that I’m learning so much about who I am and who I want to be, merely because it’s safe here to explore.
“I should have money,” she says through sobs. “I should be able to save us, but my mother stole all of my On the Rhodes money and spent it.”
“Oh, Ginny,” I whisper, my heart lurching in sympathy. “What can I do?”
“Find someone like us who can help us?”
Who do I know who has money who would be safe to bring in here as an investor? Who would understand why this winery is so special? That it’s a home. A refuge. A place that needs to stay exactly as it is?
No one.
I know no one with money that I trust and no one I trust who has money.
“I’ll sell videos of my beaver,” I say even as the words make my entire body erupt in goosebumps. “I’ll get on GrippaBeav myself, and—”
She hugs me tighter. “Cricket. No.”
“It’s just a body part, and some other asshole is already out there doing it, so why shouldn’t I?”
“Because only one percent of subscription accounts on sites like that actually make good money, and the internet is a dick, and they’ve already picked the unethical shit bag who’s using you. Plus, once you put a video out there, you can’t take it back. Any of it.”
“So I’ll—I’ll sue them for what they made off of me,” I say. “Mabel and I will find who’s running it, and we’ll sue them.”
“Cricket,” she whispers.
I squeeze my eyes shut and pretend I don’t know what she’s saying without saying it.
That odds are good whoever’s running the channel is spending the money as fast as it’s coming in. Someone who’d do that—they’re not socking the cash away for a rainy day.
The Cheeky Beaver channel—it makes me feel more victimized than the original video did.
I can own my own shit.
But I’ll probably never be able to hold that person accountable for what they’re doing.
Ginny pulls back and wipes at her eyes. “Sorry. Sorry. I shouldn’t put this on you. We’ll figure it out. I’m just—just having a rough day with it.”
“You don’t have to hide it from me,” I tell her while I wipe my eyes too. “I want to be part of things. I want to pull my weight. I want to be a full member of this family.”
“Oh, Cricket, you are.” She smiles at me, eyes still wet. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me and my own fears that I’m never doing enough.”
“You literally saved my life by inviting me here,” I whisper. “That will always be enough for me.”
She grabs me in another hug while we both cry all over again.
I have to find a way to help save this place.
Have to.
It means too much to all of us to let it go. And I’ve only been here a month. Mabel and Ginny and Olivia and Samantha and Pip and Heath and Lav—this has been their home so much longer.
“We’ll find a way to get through to next harvest,” Ginny says. “With you wanting to take over managing the grapes and Dori studying up on winemaking—”
“Dori wants to stay too?” Dammit.
I will never stop crying at this rate.
“She does,” Ginny sobs. “Our family is growing and I love it and we need more space.”
“I’m selling my beaver.”
“No. We’ll sell Pip’s beaver first.”
That finally makes me laugh.
Ginny laughs too, then hiccups as another sob racks her body, then laughs again. “Oh my stars, I’m a mess.”
“We’re all a mess, and it’s beautiful.”
She pulls back again, wiping the tears off of her whole face as something drops on the floor overhead, the noise carrying through down here.
She shoots a look at the ceiling. “Oh, god, he can’t hear us, can he?”
“No. The insulation’s really good. Lav probably dropped something.”
“Good. He doesn’t need this too.”
I bite my lip and look up at the ceiling while I scrub the tears off of my face too.
When I look back at Ginny, she’s blinking like she’s still working off the crying, but she’s also staring at me intently.
“Yes, I have a crush on him, and no, I’m not going to do anything about it because he doesn’t date and I don’t need to complicate his life,” I whisper.
“Cricket—”
“No, for real, I don’t need to cause drama and mix things up there. I need—I think I need to go into town.”
“Into town?”
“For the dating scene. I assume you date sometimes? Or have an occasional hookup? I’ve heard Mabel might too?”
The deep tones of Heath’s voice come through the ceiling as footsteps patter overhead.
Ginny shoots another look upward.
Then looks back at me.
“I am not going to act on that,” I insist. “We both live here, and even if he did date, if things didn’t work out, it would be messy and uncomfortable. And if—if we all have to move one day, then—anyway. I’m not going there.”
She grabs a tissue off my nightstand and dabs at the lingering tears in the corners of her eyes. “The dating scene isn’t bad. It’s not fantastic, but it’s not bad.”
I wince. “That’s a ringing endorsement.”
“It’s a small town. You should learn to spot the tourists if you just want a hookup.
It’s less messy than accidentally sleeping with a local that you might run into again and again when you don’t want to.
” She tilts her head at me. “Or we can talk about all of the fun you’ve introduced into Heath’s life since you got here.
The way he looks at you when you’re playing with Lav.
The way he looks at you when you’re gardening and he thinks no one’s watching.
The way he looks at you when he leaves the house after dropping Lav off every morning. ”
The way he almost choked when I told him I was getting on the dating apps… “And he doesn’t date, and I’ll respect that boundary.”
“He’s been through a lot the past few years. If you ask me, it’s less about him never wanting to date again and more about him needing some recovery time for his own life.”
Given everything I’ve learned about him since I got here, that makes sense. “And again, I’m honoring his boundaries.”
“Has he specifically told you that he doesn’t want to go out with you?”
He hasn’t.
But he also didn’t answer me when I asked if he was offering to take me into town himself.
“Asking a man on a date isn’t crossing a boundary,” Ginny says. “Ignoring him when he says no would be crossing a boundary.”
I drop my voice even lower. “It’s not like we’d get married. It would be a fling, and that would make things weird for Lav if she ever found out.”
“He’ll likely jump back into the dating pool again sometime.”
I barely manage to stop myself before I make a face.
The idea of Heath dating—yeah.
Yeah, that hurts.
I don’t want him to date.
Not if he’s not dating me.
And that’s not fair.
“Single parents date all the time,” she adds. “Lav’s lucky. She has a really great dad, and she has all of us for support too. Whatever happens, with whoever it happens with, she’ll have plenty of people to talk to and help her through it.”
“Why are you encouraging me?”
“Because love’s special. What we have here?
Our little post-viral commune? This is one of those special kinds of love.
But romantic love? That’s special too. Don’t deny yourself a chance to be happy every way you can be happy just because you’re scared.
That—it doesn’t end well.” She gives me a wry smile and points to her mouth.
“Even if you don’t try to get it back at the very worst time and the very worst way possible. ”
“You still love him?” I whisper.
She wrinkles her nose. “No, but even if I did, it wouldn’t matter.
He found someone who made him happy, and that’s as it should be.
I had my chance. I blew it. And being here—this is better.
I know I’m loved here. I know I belong here.
Don’t make the same mistake I did and let fear and insecurities keep you from what could be the most beautiful thing in your life.
Heath’s a really, really great guy, Cricket.
The best. And he likes you. Trust me, I’ve seen plenty of women notice him.
But I’ve never seen him notice them back. Not the way he notices you.”
I shake my head. “It’s not me. I’m not special.”
“We’re all special in our own ways. And he likes your brand of special.”
“He just likes that I’m not punching him in greeting anymore,” I joke.
Ginny doesn’t laugh. “He likes you, Cricket. And you have all of our blessings to do something about it. But only if you want to.”
I want to so badly that I have to suppress a shiver. “If he—if he doesn’t really like me, I’d be so embarrassed I’d want to go live in the barrel cellar and never come out again,” I whisper.
She squeezes my hand. “Bet you kitchen duty for a week that he asks you out before next weekend’s over.”
I wrinkle my nose.
“Don’t like kitchen duty?” she teases.
“I should do your kitchen duty anyway out of gratitude.”
She waves a hand like she’s waving away my comment. “You’ve already covered for me plenty. Just be happy and learn all you can about managing the fields while we pretend we’ll find a miracle to save us here, yeah?”
“We’ll find a miracle,” I say.
I need to say it.
I need to believe it.
And I need to help make it happen.
Not just so I can ask out a hot single dad who might actually say yes.
But so that this place can keep working miracles for more people like me and Ginny and all of us here.