I smiled, though I suddenly felt like crying. “Okay.”

While she was in the kitchen, I wondered where Henry was tonight, if he was thinking about me. Would he come into work tomorrow? Would it be wise to stay away if he did? Or would we be perfectly fine, now that we’d gotten that kiss out of the way and openly discussed how we felt about it?

When April came back, I decided to ask her.

“I need some advice,” I said, after she handed me a glass of something cold and white.

“I don’t know if I’m the right person to ask, but I’ll try.” April settled next to me again.

“I’d like to learn more about the winemaking at Cloverleigh, maybe start working on a regular basis in the winery, and Henry agreed to sort of take me on as a student.”

“Okay.” April took a sip of wine.

“It would mean spending time together, sometimes alone. Do you think it’s a bad idea? Should I just ask Chloe to train me if she can find the time?”

“Do you want the truth?”

“Please.”

“I think you should be careful.” She reached out and touched my wrist. “But only because I can see that you’re really confused and torn about your feelings for him. And I know how lonely he’s been. It’s easy to sense the chemistry between you two, and I just feel like it would be really hard to toe the just-friends line if you had to spend all kinds of time alone together.”

“It would be,” I admitted.

“I know I encouraged you the other night to get to know him, and if I’m honest, I’d sort of hoped something might develop over time, but I didn’t think it would happen so fast.” She smiled. “I thought maybe you’d be more like Meg and Noah—what did it take them, fifteen years?”

I laughed a little. “Yeah, it definitely makes sense to be just friends first.”

“And I’m not saying that you shouldn’t learn everything you can from him—he’s brilliant at what he does, and I’m sure he’d be a great teacher. But training under Chloe would probably be safer.” She shrugged. “Maybe let a little time go by before spending time alone with Henry? A couple weeks? Let the flames die down a bit?”

“It was just a kiss,” I said defensively. “There weren’t exactly flames.”

She tossed me a knowing look. “You don’t grab a guy’s ass while he’s kissing you if you don’t want to know what kind of heat he’s packing, that’s all I’m saying.”

Now she had me laughing again. “There was some serious heat,” I confessed.

“See?” She clucked her tongue. “Damn that old clock.”

“It was probably a sign,” I said with a sigh. “It was Grandma Sawyer telling me our timing is all wrong.”

“Listen, if Grandma Sawyer can send us messages about our love lives from beyond the grave, I’m taking that clock home and asking it some questions.”

“Like what?” Curious, I took a sip of wine. It reminded me of the riesling Henry and I had tasted the other night, and set butterflies loose in my belly.

“Like where is my soul mate and why is he avoiding me?”

“April, you’re not even looking for your soul mate. You spend all your time at work—you’re as bad as Henry.”

“I know.” She looked into her wine. “But I’m going to make some changes in the new year. I promised myself.”

“Me too.” I put a hand on her leg. “We can promise each other and keep ourselves accountable.”

She nodded, her expression going surprisingly serious. After a moment, she said, “It’ll be eighteen years soon.”

I was shocked. April never brought up her past. “I know,” I said softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “No.”

While I was wondering if now was finally the time to insist she unpack what she’d gone through all those years ago, Frannie called everyone to the table. Before I could even remind April that I was here if she ever wanted to talk, she jumped off the couch and headed for the dining room.

Slowly, I rose to my feet and followed her, thinking that no matter how well you knew a person, you could never really know the depth of what they were feeling.

Everyone was so good at hiding things.

I took April’s advice and stayed away from the winery for the next three days. It wasn’t easy, especially because I saw Henry’s truck in the lot every single one of those days from morning until night, but I told myself April was right. Why torture Henry or myself by spending time alone together? Maybe if we gave this thing a chance to cool down, it would.

I used the time to contact a real estate agent my mom recommended, discuss with her what I was looking for in a home and what my budget was, and upon receiving her list of available properties, drove by them all with my dad. Many I was able to cross off my list right away, but there were several I was interested in going through. I asked my agent to schedule appointments for the following week, after January first.

I also spoke with the realtor who had the listing for the Santa Barbara house, who said she’d put up the sign and had many interested clients already. Would it be okay to start showing it?

I said of course, hung up, and took my kids to a movie to prevent myself from curling up in a ball on my bed and crying over the thought of strangers traipsing through what had been my dream home, trampling over all my happy memories—as if Brett hadn’t trampled them enough.

The kids had finally reached him on Christmas Day, and thankfully, the asshole had had the heart to spend time talking to both of them. Whitney was actually smiling when they hung up. “He said we can go to Aspen next week,” she told me excitedly. “Without Kimmy—just the three of us!”

“That would be fun,” I said, wondering how he had talked Kimmy into that.

Turns out, he hadn’t.

On Saturday afternoon, the day before the kids were scheduled to fly out and stay with him for the last half of the break, he texted me.

Brett: Call me. Need to talk.

The last thing I wanted to do was talk to him, but in case it was something related to the kids’ visit, I called back—from the privacy of my bedroom, in case I had to swear.

Which I did.

“Yes?” I said when he picked up.

“Listen, there’s been a change in plans. The kids can’t come here tomorrow.”

My blood iced over, and then boiled. “Why not?”

“Because Kimmy is having a difficult pregnancy and she needs peace and quiet.”

“So leave her alone while you take the kids to Aspen like you fucking promised.”

“I can’t leave her alone—she’s pregnant, and she doesn’t want to be alone.”

“Do I need to remind you of all the times you traveled for work when I was pregnant?” I seethed.

“Look, I’m trying to be better this time. Do things differently.”

I had all kinds of things to say about that, but I let it go. “So bring her along. She needs to learn to get along with your children.”

“I suggested that, but she feels it would be too much. The last time Whitney was here, she was very disrespectful to Kimmy.”